Mystery Short Stories Novels & Stories

11:54 11:55 11:56 11:59 12:00 Once the clock stroked 12, a shiver ran down my spine ,my body was aching for a release and he wasn’t in sight yet. I heaved a sigh,as the clock stroked 12:20 a few minutes later. The library had a few people in it but nevertheless I decided to go round placing books back where they were meant to be. I took off my jacket and started going round, placing books back, I got to the back row of the library , it didn’t have a enough light, so people hardly sat there to read, there was a book on one of the tables. It was a Novel by Ana huang famous author for the twisted series, it was Twisted hate and the open page was one the steamy hate sex scenes between Jules and

The apartment smelled like lavender diffuser and fresh coffee every morning, a small ritual they’d fallen into since moving in together six months ago. Mia was the neat one—always wiping counters, folding throw blankets, keeping the chaos at bay. Harper was the opposite: art supplies scattered across the coffee table, guitar leaning against the couch, half-finished sketches taped to the fridge. They balanced each other in ways neither had expected when they answered the same Craigslist ad.

"In traditional belief systems, certain individuals were thought to have natural gifts—mediums, sensitives, those who could perceive beyond normal human senses." Casie's mind raced. "We need to check local paranormal investigation groups, psychic readers, anyone who claims a connection to the spirit world." "You're taking this seriously?" Rick looked incredulous. "Psychics and mediums?" "The killer is," she pointed out. "That's what matters." Rick shook his head but began typing again. "There's a paranormal research society at the university. A few storefront psychics downtown. Even a ghost tour company that claims their guide has 'the gift.'"

Olson Embers: A Collection of Dark Fiction by Kenneth W. Cain Visions of the Mutant Rain Forest, by Bruce Boston and Robert Frazier Tribulations by Richard Thomas Eidolon Avenue: The First Feast by Jonathan Winn Flowers in a Dumpster by Mark Allan Gunnells The Dark at the End of the Tunnel by Taylor Grant Through a Mirror, Darkly by Kevin Lucia Things Slip Through by Kevin Lucia Where You Live by Gary McMahon Tricks, Mischief and Mayhem by Daniel I. Russell

I just needed to wash the stain away, even if it was to make it a bit better. The hallway to the restroom was empty. It seemed everyone was busy having fun in the hall. My eyes moved around. It felt eerie that somewhere was this silent in such a crowded hall. Finally, I was able to make it to the restroom. As soon as my hand held the door to open it, something covered my nose and mouth at once. There was a strange smile emitting from the person, but the longer the cover stayed on my nose, the more my senses were affected. I could feel the energy slipping away from my body until everywhere became dark.

​They stood in the workshop, two strangers bound by a phantom history. ​Suddenly, the air in the room grew cold. The candles on the workbench flickered, their flames turning a pale, ghostly blue. A presence manifested in the corner of the room—not a monster, but a woman draped in veils of shifting gray, like smoke captured in the shape of a person. ​"Clara?" Dave whispered.

Then I got back to my research again browsing through criminal cases described in news articles and web forums. An hour passed and I was tired of reading bloody stories that got me nowhere near something I could use in the novel, so I began to grumble on one of the mystery-crime forums. “Help me out. Have you heard of any interesting murder case nowadays? I swear, I’m not a psycho, I’m a writer begging for an inspiration,” I hoped that sounded convincing enough. No one was answering. I’d waited for an hour and got little bit frustrated. I was about to get back to my previous way of research but then someone replied.

Detective Sean opened the door of the underground basement, he cringed, seeing the sight before him. Making him retreats his footsteps. The twenty years he had been working as a detective and the the thirty five years he had spent in this town. He hadn’t seen a thing as this. Blood was was all over the wall. There was a writing in blood as well. ‘Don’t look for me, look for me you die.’ It did give him chills. The forensic department were there, running a test on the items on basement. But he couldn’t see them at the moment, the only thing he saw was the blood on the wall. He couldn’t seem to get his eyes off it.

I wanted to choke on his cock and then ride it till I couldn't walk anymore. Davin seemed like a very complicated man. He was cold and never spoke unless it was necessary. The world knew he was a billionaire, a top CEO in the Mafia world. But I suspected he was a shady man, he probably had hands in the underworld, which was why he never allowed me into his study. Said it was private stuff not meant for me to know.

It was well lit but eerily quiet, I bet if a pin dropped to the floor, the sound would be loud. I carefully read the numbers on each door as I walked past it. A few steps further, I arrived in front of his door. My knees were threatening to give out and right there, I started questioning my decisions. What if this man was a criminal, or worse an organ harvester? I didn't even know his name, yet I wanted him inside me? The thought of that made emotions bubble in my throat. But the moment I recalled that sexy, muscular build, his intoxicating eyes and alluring scent, I summoned the courage to lift my hand.