Mystery Science Fiction Novels & Stories

He looked up with that easy grin, holding out a muffin like a peace offering. “You look like hell,” he said. “Didn’t sleep much,” I muttered, taking it anyway. He watched me for a second too long, worry creasing his brow. I wanted to tell him. About the whispers in the dark. About Damien’s hand on my jaw. About how his voice lingered in my head, calling me mine. But the words stuck in my throat. And then, as if summoned by my silence, the air shifted. The lecture hall fell quiet, a ripple of tension spreading through the rows. I didn’t need to look up. I knew.

Mikhail opened his mouth to say something but then emptied his glass without saying anything. Jeremy took a sip from his glass. His investigations faced a dead end with Moses Mosley. But there is no animosity between Jacquesand Moses. That only means that someone pays Moses enough to get her. If he finds out who that is, it would be easy for him to deal with them. "She..." Mikhail let out a deep breath and Jeremy looked at him. Mikhail isn't loose-lipped and he has high alcohol tolerance. That means he means to speak to him about this.

“It is about an unknown kind of brain cancer. I just got a report from one of my friends that this kind of cancer has been the cause of many deaths in his vicinity, and we don’t know anything about it yet. I have never seen anything like it before when studied the sample of the affected brain cell that was sent to me. I need a trusted and hardworking individual like you to work with me on this project. Can you do that?” Miss Simpson asked and everything she said truly got me intrigued about the project. I had never heard of a case like that before. I needed unique cases like that to broaden my knowledge. “Yes, ma’am. I will love to help with the project. What do you need me to do, ma’am?” I

Instead, she spotted a battered cardboard box, which she pulled out by one of its flaps. The box was filled with books similar to the one she found on the floor—tattered and yellowing, adorned with somewhat cheesy cover art. Except for a few classics by authors like Verne and Wells, most of them fell into the sci-fi genre. Cole admitted to losing interest in this type of literature after a few pages of convoluted descriptions. However, she recognized some of the titles because she had been repeatedly told that she should read them: Asimov, Russ, Vonarburg, Bradbury, Heinlein, Bujold, Engh, Le Guin.

Just past the first turn, she realised there was no house, no village in front of her, only a long stretch of whiteness bordered by snow-powdered hedges without a telltale rise in smoke in the distance. She didn't dare look up again for a long while. Time lost all meaning as she walked onward, her cheeks stinging, then without feeling, as hints of eventide crept in behind the melancholy December sky. It was then that Betty murmured an almost forgotten prayer from her childhood……...a little something to her guardian Angel begging an entree to paradise. ………………………….. She awoke stretching contentedly. Staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling, it took her a few moments to determine where she was, but

I stoped trying for now and willed 3 snakes to come out of this lake, one head after another come out of it, then followed by the rest of their bodies, I willed my aura to penetrate their mind to see if they can thing or feel, or searching their memories for any reliable information that can answer some of my urgent yet predictable questions, but all I’ve got is that those snakes started to glow and then chrink to an inbeleiveble speed until they become three specs of shining lights, dark blue like the deapest part of an oscian, full of liveness but devoited of life. I try to inspect it more in depth inside then it was revealed, an intersection door lay before me inside this speck of lig

After I cleaned up I sent for my second and third in command, we have a meeting and I tell them about what the Moon Goddess had said to me, they both looked some what relieved after hearing I will be calling off the battle and waiting instead for this Mystic being to find me and go form there, they took particular reverence in the bit about our generations being cursed for spilling the blood of innocents, sigh so let the waiting begin. (5 days later) I'm sitting in my bunker doing a little reading when Eiden stirs a bit giving me and odd feeling which I ignore, I turn as I thought I heard a creaking sound in the distance, I listen but hear nothing further, I turn my head back to continue on

I think I need to find him… but if I do, how can I find him when I don’t know what he looks like? Will he come to my rescue? Will he end these mysteries?

“Make yourself comfortable.” Mystery girl said as she entered her apartment, Daniel following close by and shutting the door after him. She had invited him over and being driven by paranoia, he accepted. He didn’t want any further run-ins with Luke on his way back to his hostel. He paused to look around her apartment.