Mystery Suspense Novels & Stories

As she stood in the quiet of her room, the questions tumbling through her mind, she couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that this mystery was just the tip of the iceberg. “What is missing in my memory...?”

Those that mean the myth about the supernatural cause of the homicide that happened years ago were real? He stood there in confusion, when a slimy dark green rope chain hit him on his side neck, the effects of it make him stood motionless for a second, and in a second the affected area started turning pale as his veins popped up and turned dark green as the toxin started spreading out slowly like a spider web, he hiccups and staggered backward before falling on his knees. And later fell flat. “Brian!“ Cassie yelled seeing the fallen Brian and rushed to him, suspending the fight, seeing the dark green veins that were visible on his neck forming a web spreading slowly to his other part of the

It was how they always worked. Only right now it wasn’t working and they weren’t enjoying it. They shouldn’t have held the meeting at Sam’s apartment, the place held too many recent memories. “It doesn’t matter.” “Of course it matters, it’s a key plot driver. It’s like having a murder mystery and never finding out who does the murder.” “But that’s the point, you just said the key word.” “What key word—murder?” “No, mystery, that’s what make it so unnerving, the audience is never sure who sends him the links, we let them work it out for themselves, so they project their own fears onto it.”

The road stretched ahead like an uncertain path, and I found myself navigating through a maze of emotions. Suspicion intertwined with curiosity, creating a complex tapestry of feelings. Freda’s car continued on its course, seemingly oblivious to the presence of the vehicle behind it. The pieces of the puzzle were shifting, rearranging themselves right before my eyes. I continued to follow the two cars. “What’s really going on here? Is there a connection between Freda and the mysterious follower? Who could be trailing her?” The questions swirled in my thoughts, like a storm of uncertainty demanding answers.

Someone was standing there. At first, I couldn't see clearly. Everything was blurry. The figure began walking toward me. My heart skipped. He was moving quickly. Forcefully. As though he had been waiting for something. Waiting for me. I watched in confusion as he began removing his clothes. The drunken haze in my mind slowly disappeared. Fear took its place. I moved backward across the bed. My entire body trembled. Why was he coming toward me? My breathing became uneven. I shook my head and moved farther back.

“Back before you were a world-famous author, huh?” Brad laughed. “Yeah, back then I was working for my hometown paper writing obituaries.” “So your work hasn’t changed too much; you’re still writing about death.” “I suppose you could look at it that way.” “I’ll confess I haven’t actually read any of your books. I know of you by reputation, but I’m a bit too squeamish for horror. A mystery, on the other hand, suits me just fine.” “Hey, to each his own. Or her own. I like mysteries, too; in some ways they share similar elements with horror.”

he said and disappeared. Then I woke up. I stared around, there was no one around. I shut my eyes again and this time I saw myself in a strange village. It was ancient. People passed with horses, and there were no colorful or fancy clothe. It was so ancient like the Mystical movies I usually watched. A man rode his horse towards me and asked "Who are you and what are you doing here?" Really? I'm being interrogated in my own nightmare. "Oh, are you one of the daughters?" The man asked.

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

I was lying on bed and thinking about the whole day. That café girl, I don’t know why but whenever I close my eyes her innocent face comes in my mind. I mean I love my mystery Girl then why does café girl’s blushing awaken some feelings in me? This café girl is messing my mind. Slowly thinking about café girl I drifted to sleep. ----------

“Back before you were a world-famous author, huh?” Brad laughed. “Yeah, back then I was working for my hometown paper writing obituaries.” “So your work hasn’t changed too much; you’re still writing about death.” “I suppose you could look at it that way.” “I’ll confess I haven’t actually read any of your books. I know of you by reputation, but I’m a bit too squeamish for horror. A mystery, on the other hand, suits me just fine.” “Hey, to each his own. Or her own. I like mysteries, too; in some ways they share similar elements with horror.”