Thriller Novels & Stories

Since he expected nothing, he won't be disappointed when he received nothing but another betrayal. At most, he'd sigh and turn to leave... "What did you say? Three students fell ill and were diagnosed with an unknown virus?" "That's what I heard from the TeleSearch. From the symptoms and finds, the virus resembles the Cornea from the 20s. Only..." "What? Only what?" "Whoever contracts it starts puking blood and if the symptom isn't treated within 24 hours, the skin of the victim peels off..." "What!? What the he**! What sort of virus is this!? And how did they even contract it!?"

He said like some chaotic deranged bastard. "First of all, I'm no bitch, I'm a fucking assassin. Secondly," I responded while opening his mouth "I pay with the blood of others not mine" and with that, I cocked the gun, realizing the bullet down his throat. I peeled his blood off my face and licked it. I could feel his gagging on my gun in fear before I pulled the trigger. Bunch of freaks.

I can taste blood. Ewwww. I dont like blood. But it’s like I am craving it. Strange. I don’t like bitter things. And especially weird smelling foods or drinks. But my body is responding on its own. It’s like a magnetic pull. Am I dead? "Callum. Wake up". I heard some faint sound. Someone is calling me. But why am I tied up? Why can’t I move? Someone kidnapped me? But why would someone. I don't have anything to offer.

And suddenly, they see a shortcut, a shorter route which would release them from the suffering they were subject to, and they go for it. ‘While executing the shortcut, some of them fumble,’ continued the inspector. ‘Why? Simple ... they fumble because they are amateurs! Some are so overwhelmed by their success, they end up doing crazy things. Husband murders wife but wants to kiss her one last time allowing the servant to spot him. Son murders father, and instead of running away, he starts looking for his father’s pen. Why? He wants to have a souvenir of the bad times. His sister walks in, and then he has no place to hide. These actions cannot be explained, Navpreet,’ said the inspector gloo

The thrill of knowing every intimate detail about someone before they even realize they’re being watched—that’s where the power lies. My victims are chosen with precision. There’s no randomness to it, no impulsive picks. Most of the time, I don’t even need to touch them. The true thrill comes from the psychological torment. Watching them unravel, seeing the fear in their eyes when they notice the small, seemingly innocent changes in their home. That coffee cup moved slightly. The window that wasn’t open yesterday, but now is. The sense of being watched without proof—it’s better than any physical violence.

. And as I am a person who has an unhealthy obsession for story plots I tend to overthink about what my story is going to be, at this point plot keeps coming in my head and I was drowning with ideas. So I did the obvious solution, let G****e decide for me. "Top ten most exciting plots for thriller stories" and guess what I found it…. The perfect subject, aliens.... No, sadly it's just psychopaths, although I think alien thrillers are quite a good idea. Anyhow, I just went with that one since I noticed that they are highly stereotyped in thriller films as killers, so I was like, "This is kind of su

He just came and pushed me against the wall and said," How dare you spit my name out like that, weren't my warnings more than enough? Tell me you worthless piece of shit." "It just slipped by mistake, I am sorry and leave me.” I can’t believe he cursed at me but it is kind of my mistake so… He just pushed me further and spoke pointing a gun to my forehead. I gulped down my fear and he said," You see this just one pull and you are dead. Just find the bloody files and save your life, senorita." My heart was beating fast not only due to fear but also because I was angry, very angry. "You know what? Just do me a favor and kill me. Won't it be easy for you since you brutally killed my family beca

dead I screeched in terror. Hailee Johnson, missing for one month was found dead. . .by me. Her body was infested with maggots and other insects, she had stab wounds on her abdomen and her throat was slit. Her eyes were still open and her mouth gaped. My breathing was accelerating and my skin had goosebumps, my mouth wide open and my eyes bulging out of my eyes in fear. I was trembling in terror, I couldn’t move. My mind was filled with all of these terrible thoughts, was this my fault? I was the one who said she could drop fucking dead, I felt sick. I knew couldn’t have done this but now with the murder weapon possessing my DNA, the police wouldn’t believe me. I was being set up, but by who

" And trust me, you're going to enjoy every moment of it." Then, he'd defiled her. Over and over again till Serena felt like her body was no longer hers. She screamed so much but the gag wouldn't let her voice get past her throat. As he used her, he'd whisper words of hate, although they weren't directed at her someone else. When he was finally through, he'd removed the gag, and her heart in agony, she tearfully cursed him. He shrugged it off, lighting a cigarette. He told her his name then, instructing her never to forget. And then threatened her, that if she liked her life, she should leave the Wilson's alone. A threat she could never really understand… ****

51 HUNTER’s POV “Let her go,” he threatened and there’s a promise of murder in his voice as his eyes went to my hand around his mate’s neck. “No,” I growled. “Not until she explains why she’s hiding it from me,” Brock furrowed his brows, looking over at Syria squirming beneath my tight grip. Syria’s grip on my hand tightened, her eyes darting to her mate in desperation and visible guilt. My wolf snarled, rage passing through every nerve in my body as he threatened to take charge before I unleash hell, knowing I can’t and won’t be able to control myself if that happened.