Short Mysterious Stories Novels & Stories

Each volume of Strange short stories will have 3 medium-sized stories and about 10 short stories. To make it easier to understand and more transparent, this chapter will be like a summary for this and the following volumes. Vol.2: medium stories: The antics of Bia's crew ( ABC) Bia comments on a crew of children of criminals, in an invisible ship. In this world full of magic, demonic beasts and restrictions, they live on the run, abandoned by their parents. Not being accepted anywhere in the world they have to survive on small illegal jobs and from time to time to plunder.

No matter how much damage they take, no matter if you stab them through the heart or the brain, if the head stays on, they keep moving. I smiled as I set the book aside. Thanks to Mr. Mysterious, I knew that couldn’t be true. That wasn’t the underworld—it was another world, just like ours. Mr. Mysterious was alive, flesh and blood. He breathed, his heart beat, and he was warm—completely different from any creature that’s ever crossed the border.

He said giddily and giggled when everyone laughed at him. “You scared us Deagan,” Amaya revealed when they stopped laughing at his ridiculous behaviour. “Mayaaa, it was so scary! It was like everything was in slow motion, one moment I’m riding through the woods on my unicorn and the next Zoey came at me with a pole, and then I was flying.” They held in their laughter at his delusion, he sounded so serious. “Why Zoey?” Madelyn asked confusedly. “Cause she’s stupid and she’s up to something. I think she’s trying to kill me so that she can take over my company.” He whispered the last part as if someone were eavesdropping on him.

Thоse were just superstitiоus fairy tales, ghоst stоries fоr yоung сhildren. The damp fabriс оf the thin nightgоwn, whiсh reaсhed dоwn tо the ankles, stuсk tо her bоdy, thus underlining the соntrast between her flat stоmaсh and slender legs соmpared tо the lusсiоus female сurves in exaсtly the right plaсes. Her nipples stооd up in the сооl and squeezed themselves сlearly under the fine shirt.

I asked myself, my brows furrowing as I drifted back into thought, wondering why they really had to hide in the darkness to do whatever they had to do. As my thoughts stretched on, it dawned on me that they were actually whispering among themselves, and my brows twitched immediately. "Something is not right," I stated, realizing that I was only able to hear them because it was part of my gift, which was why I heard them whispering as though they were speaking loudly. Not to mention the nudge I had felt in my heart. I felt as though the moon goddess kept drawing my attention back to them, trying to convey something to me, and I didn't need anyone to tell me that something was wrong somewhere.

In which Soto-Monte, again, following, descending and going towards various places, in the midst of singing. He got up trembling, at that hour, when he had less than half an intention to take the lamp, when that, when they were more than half an intention to pretend that he was going to do it and hide behind the barrels that were scattered. In that interim, when surprisingly preserving an innovative moment, when together it changed, at least, that was what he thought that magical region was surprising, there are several creatures that roam there. Even if it was about the given situation, in which I was trying to understand where my extraordinary intuition came from, at the time, in which eve

He whispered and waved for me to come. “What?” I walked to where he was. He stood up from the box and opened it,my mouth fell open slowly when I saw a good number of skulls Inside. I stepped back gently and sniffed the air to see if there was any form of life but no one apart from Connor and I were inside. “These are fresh skulls Ryan.” Connor spoke up. “I know.” I guess she just killed them. “It's as you deduced Connor,we should have come here armed, this place is no fortune teller place.” I looked around in high alert.

She knew the scent before she even opened the box—it was her mother’s recipe. Her eyes narrowed. There was no way he could’ve known that. Not unless… She stepped into the hallway and glanced down the corridor, heart starting to pound just slightly. Her eyes scanned the flood of bodies—interns in scrubs, gurneys rolling past, a code blue being paged overhead. And then, through the shifting crowd, she saw a mysterious man. He stood halfway down the corridor, half-hidden behind a group of surgical residents chatting near the elevators. His face was obscured by a black KN95, and a baseball cap sat low on his brow, but even through the layers, something about his presence felt… familiar.

No one knows how these mysterious killings brought about by a veiled creature began. Some of the people interviewed by Mark in the past admit that such a being is just a myth, it only exists in one's wild imagination. Yet he believes otherwise. He is a victim of the handiwork of the manananggal. He became an unwilling orphan at a young age because of it. He vowed on the grave of his parents that he will leave no stone unturned in searching for their killer.

his confession brought tears in my eyes. I hugged him tightly for loving me so much. I can see every family member of mine is looking at us adoration and pride. Huge round of applause made us apart from our hug. Thank you so much God for bringing my boring life to interesting, heart breaks, love and most importantly happiest one. I love you so much my dear husband. I don't know why he calls me mysterious? But I was never mysterious, right? THE END.