Mystery

The Curse of the House on Harper's Hill
"Run, Shelly! We're almost there. Don't look back. Hurry!" My best friend, Daniel, was a faster runner. I tripped over a branch and fell, tumbling several feet down the hill. "Danny!" I called out, but he kept running.
By Julie Lacksonen13 days ago in Fiction
INTERVIEW WITH A HOOKER (3)
“Honey, I wasn’t thinking of ending our conversation; I’m really enjoying it. However, every time I make the slightest move, the bartender has to pick his tongue up off the counter and I can just imagine, from the expressions on the men’s faces behind me that I see in the mirror, what’s going through their little minds. I like you; you’re somewhat like Cool Hands—not your looks—the way you come across—I feel I can trust you. Since the night is still young, if you don’t mind, I thought we could go someplace more private.
By Len Sherman13 days ago in Fiction
THE STARLINER PROTOCOL: NASA’S "TYPE A" CONFESSION AND THE 311-PAGE COVER-UP
THE ECHOES OF A FAILING SHIP In the sterile, brightly lit press briefing rooms of Washington D.C., government space agencies do not willingly admit to catastrophic failure. They use sanitized words. They talk about "learning opportunities," "data collection," and "nominal deviations." They wrap their mistakes in thick layers of bureaucratic armor.
By Wellova 13 days ago in Fiction
THE MAN WHO COULD WORK MIRACLES
George McWhirter Fotheringay was not the kind of man anyone would expect to possess miraculous powers. He was small, with bright red hair, freckles, sharp brown eyes, and a habit of twisting the ends of his moustache when arguing. He worked as a clerk at Gomshott’s and enjoyed proving people wrong. Until the age of thirty, he did not believe in miracles at all. In fact, he strongly argued that miracles were impossible. His strange discovery happened one evening while he was debating the subject in the bar of the Long Dragon.
By Faisal Khan13 days ago in Fiction
Did The Tarot Cards Predict Love?
Did The Tarot Cards Predict Love? In a quiet village, where the moonlight draped softly over cobblestone paths, there lived a woman named Clara. She found peace in a small garden, surrounded by fragrant blooms, a sanctuary where she could listen to the whispers of her heart.
By George’s Girl 2026 13 days ago in Fiction
The Elevator That Only Goes Down
Everyone who worked there knew that. Forty-seven floors. No basement. No sublevels. But the elevator had 48 buttons.
By Salman Writes13 days ago in Fiction
Before the Sun Arrived
The first morning it happened, Mara thought it was a trick of the streetlamp. She woke before her alarm, before the garbage trucks, before the first commuter train dragged its metallic sigh across the edge of town. The sky outside her bedroom window was still a dark, uncommitted blue. The kind of blue that hasn’t decided whether to become morning.
By Flower InBloom13 days ago in Fiction
The Day the Internet Went Silent
The Day the Internet Went Silent At exactly 9:17 a.m., the world stopped refreshing. No notifications chimed. No emails arrived. No feeds updated. Phones, once warm with constant use, cooled in the hands of confused people everywhere. At first, everyone assumed it was temporary—a glitch, a slow network, a routine outage.
By Marie Kromah14 days ago in Fiction
The Baby in the Break Room
At 9:00 a.m., the siren sang its polite two notes—ding, ding—and the building returned its practiced silence. Mara set her mug on the corner of her desk where the ring stain had been carefully outlined with a thin strip of tape. She’d done it on her first day, back when she thought it mattered.
By Flower InBloom14 days ago in Fiction
The Last Memory: Chapters 3
Chapter Three The day had grown long and though the conversation with Pam was a nice change of pace after being alone in the cabin, Trenton was ready to go to bed. She had plans to go out and get a job the following day so she could start saving up money for her own place, and the excitement of that alone made her ready to rest up before the big day.
By Nicole Higginbotham-Hogue14 days ago in Fiction
Find the Rabbit
As red surrounded him. He tasted copper in the air. The door to Daniel’s other life closed before him. It was a one-way trip. That’s what the strange woman — hope fucked from her face — said. One way trip.
By Paul Stewart14 days ago in Fiction
The Cedar Chest
PART 3 - FINAL Thirty years later, the rain against the window of the house in York sounded exactly like the rain against the windows of the 4:12 to Darlington.
By Marce14 days ago in Fiction