Short Stories True Crime Novels & Stories

Like those iron filings we all seem to attract, he started writing stories about the things that happen in this town when no one’s looking; the things that lurk in the dark corners everyone else would rather ignore. Do these stories really happen? There’s no way of knowing. Initially this uncertainty tormented him. He didn’t sleep well for a long while. However, publishing some of them in Things Slip Through has given him a measure of peace. Helped him embrace his . . . calling, if you will, just like we have. I grapple with cases that can’t be solved. Father Ward hears the strangest confessions, though he can’t share the specifics about most of them. Fitzy—even though he works in Utica—trea

So had every monster who ever stood in front of a camera and pretended to mourn. "I heard," I said. "That's kind of the reason I'm here." The words hung in the air between us. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice quiet. "That's the reason you're here. I thought you were the transfer student taking over the scholarship." I hesitated. The shy-girl mask said backtrack, deflect, pretend you didn't say anything. "I'm also a true crime writer," I said. The lie came easily, smoothly, the way lies do when you've practiced them in a motel room mirror. "Freelance. I write about unsolved cases. Alice's case... it caught my attention."

"Maia, are you really this stupid, or are you just acting? Someone could sell you out, and you'd still be there thanking the person who did it." His tone had shifted. It wasn't playful anymore. A cold chill began to creep up my spine. This wasn't some kinky game. He wasn't joking. "W-What do you want? Why did you tie me up?" "What does it look like? I caught myself a prime piece of meat, and I'm going to get a good price for it." A prime piece of meat. A good price. Suddenly, every horror story I'd ever read about women vanishing in remote areas flashed through my mind.

I turned on my desk lamp and opened a book on legal practice. After a few pages, my phone buzzed. It was a news push notification. "One Year Since Influencer Sunny's Cliff-Fall Case: Where Are the Roommates Now?" I opened it. The article was long and had many pictures. There were photos of Chloe while she was alive, shots of Eagle's Beak Cliff, and screenshots from the police report. The final paragraph read:

It’s distressing that I’ve spent enough time with this man to have a “usual.” My mind flashes to all the stories my parents told me about New York murderers to try to keep me from moving all the way out here after college. They pick a random woman off the street, then follow her, and by the time she realizes there’s something wrong, it’s too late.Granted, most of mom’s horror stories were from the 80s. Except there was that one true-crime podcast last year about the elevator murderer.

He knows Subh-Dil, she would never do something like this, the guy must be sick or something, Ammar decided to keep Azam Tahir's visit a secret until he reached home and the guard informed him that a man named Azam Tahir came here. Ammar never doubts Subh-Dil, so why would she lie? What was Azam Tahir doing here? Ammar wanted to talk to her, maybe Azam is bothering her, but what he is supposed to ask when Subh-Dil just lied on his face that she doesn't know any Azam Tahir, and Ammar didn't want to tell her about his visit in the school, not until he knows who Azam Tahir is.

And above all… do your best to speak only truth, or the Game will know. Lies are the currency of the damned. ] Farrah took a deep breath as she carefully read the rules. This was her lifeline after all. She had basically just died from the car accident, and she didn’t want to die again. If there was a chance of survival, she might as well cling to it. Still, she couldn’t help but feel nervous. This simply felt too unreal. “This is insane…” she whispered. “It’s a nightmare. It has to be.”

The Taboo Chronicles is a curated collection of dark, twisted, and unapologetically erotic stories designed to push the boundaries of conventional desire. From the sacred halls of a silent church to the high-stakes shadows of obsessive power plays, these stories explore the raw, unyielding side of human hunger. Whether it’s the thrill of a secret shared in the dark or the surrender of a soul to a dominant force, nothing is off-limits.

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.

thirty-eight, restless, and deliciously reckless. Her friends had dragged her out with one mission in mind…to remind her what it felt like to be alive. Lila, the fiery divorcee with a laugh like wildfire, Margot, the bestselling novelist who lived for drama, and quiet Jade, the sharp-eyed reporter, had refused to take no for an answer. “Truth or dare, Soph,” Lila challenged, her eyes glittering with mischief as she swirled the last of her drink. “And don’t you dare give me any of that polite, senator-wife bullshit tonight.”