Mystery Short Stories Novels & Stories

I can feel a shiver run down my spine as I gulp. Something is weird about the atmosphere... how come everyone suddenly disappears? I slowly swallow the candy that was sitting in my mouth. It was a soft candy, so it didn't hurt my throat. Clenching the handle of my bag tightly, I try to walk as normally as I could master. *Bathump! Bathump!* Calm down... there must be a reasonable explanation why this happened, right? A shadow shape of a person appeared behind me. The more I try to walk faster, the more it follows me. Turning around to the different alleyway, I tried to lose the shadow. Since I wasn't paying attention to where I'm heading, I ended up walking to a dead end.

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?

Other Books by the Author . . . 1. Baby's Daddy — Pregnancy-Romance/Mystery 2. The Third Side of the Coin — Horror/Suspense 3. Her Dilemma — Pregnancy-Romance/Billionaire 4. The Rancher's Heart — Romance/Single-Father 5. A Week of Batching — Mystery/Suspense . 6. Chronicles of an Amnesiac — SciFi/Mystery/Short Story 7. On Air — Billionaire/Pregnancy-Romance/Mystery

The above sentences are the thoughts of the author about what he thinks, but it is my duty to tell all the things he has in his mind. The space science and the beginning of the human era, why I always talk about the past, why I'm interested in the dead stories, why I tell a tale of another time, why I don't like the present and, also why I'm not narrating about those dumbasses who were about to close the mysterious case of random killing by an unidentified criminal (creature)? You might have so many questions and confusions about the fact that I puzzle a simple story in what we call a Riddle…? But you can still believe in me that I'll give you a gift tomorrow.

, it can be found on any book platform and unlike this book, Burning passion is a novella, so just sit back and enjoy a long blissful erotic stories THANK YOU AGAIN❤️!!

“But we’re not leaving them any clues and how can they work out what really happened if we don’t actually know ourselves.” “Look, it’s like Sacheverell Sitwell said . . . ” “Not this old quote again, you got that from Cold Hand in Mine. I read Aickman too you know.” “Good for you, doesn’t mean it doesn’t bear repeating. ‘In the end it is the mystery that lasts and not the explanation.’” “Why can’t we just have a proper ending for once?”

She didn't have any close friends either and slowly as time passed she became a 27 years old who stayed at home most of the time playing on the computer or reading in her library at home. Like any other day, Su Lan was lying in bed watching her favorite drama until she received a phone call. She picked up her phone and answered only to get hollered at by her mother once again with a bunch of questions like: "when are you going to get a job", "why don't you head out", and etc. After an hour of the same routine everyday she finally managed to get off the phone call. Getting in a grumpy mood she grabbed the bag of chips next to her and saw an ad on her computer. The title of the ad was "the mys

The lingering smell of expensive perfume from the parents mixed with fear and despair, hanging heavy in the air. I sat at my desk, turned on the lamp, and opened my textbooks. Under the warm light, the familiar formulas and theories slowly calmed my racing mind. I knew this wasn't over. Giselle's test report and the pills under Sarah's desk were two pieces of the puzzle—but they didn't make a complete picture. And Kathryn? What was her role in all of this? And who booked that ticket under my name? How did they get my student ID and pull this off?

Emma's eyes slowly opened, her mind foggy from the fitful sleep. She lay there for a moment, trying to shake off the lingering emotions from the previous night. But as she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, she noticed something that made her heart skip a beat. On the bedside table, there was a small piece of paper with a note scrawled on it. Emma's heart racing, she picked it up and read the words: "Meet me at the old clock tower at midnight. Come alone."

The old Victorian house on the hill had always felt haunted by secrets. This summer, it held new ones. My cousin Mia and I were staying with Uncle Victor while our parents traveled through Europe. At 23 and 25, we told ourselves it was just practical—free rent, a quiet place to finish our grad school projects. But the moment Uncle Victor opened the door, shirt unbuttoned at the collar and that familiar hungry look in his eyes, we both knew the real reason we’d come.