Mystery

At the Edge of the Threshold. AI-Generated.
The first crack in the earth was so narrow that none of them were sure it was a crack at all. “It’s just a shadow,” Theo said, squinting against the late afternoon light. The cicadas were loud enough to make the hillside feel like it was vibrating. “The angle of the sun.”
By Carolyn Patton3 days ago in Fiction
The Key of Murder. Top Story - February 2026.
Today is May 22, 2017, the first day of summer vacation. My friends and I are excited to start exploring the neighborhood this summer. Oh sorry, my name is Amelia and I love mysteries. People tell me I have an active imagination for mysteries. Unfortunately, there isn’t much to explore in this small town. I mean I lived there for my whole life. There is never a real-life mystery in my town ever. Until today.
By Lea Rue3 days ago in Fiction
Abandoned or did he just leave home
Abandoned or did he just leave home I used to walk home late from work most nights. It was a route I knew well, one I could probably manage with my eyes closed, though I would never dare try. I have always been wary of the dark. Not frightened enough to stop living my life, but cautious. I walk quickly, keys threaded through my fingers, senses alert, listening to every shift in the night. That evening was no different, at least not at first.
By Marie381Uk 3 days ago in Fiction
The Amber Spires: Part One
I found the devil in the guts of the Amber Spires, more than two decades ago now, down in the filthy rubble that made up the outer rings of shacks and hovels posted up high above the filth ways. The spires are long gone now, pulverized by the Hulcans when they pushed north, but back when I was a boy they were something special. Great big towers that shot into the heavens and cast their light into the smog clouds that enveloped the concrete apartments around them, what we would have given to step one foot through those doors. It was like looking at the gates of heaven.
By Brier3 days ago in Fiction
Magic. Top Story - February 2026.
Note from the Author: I want to let you know that this is an unusual story, and it has been written purely from whatever is in my unconscious mind, because before I start writing, I get into a flow state that reaches my unconsciousness. I also write in my subconscious mind, which is like a mid-flow state between the conscious and unconscious mind.
By Denise Larkin4 days ago in Fiction
Avoid the Rabbit
The micro below is a follow up to my recent story Find the Rabbit. It will make more sense if you read that first. Find the rabbit.
By Paul Stewart4 days ago in Fiction
The Day the Sun Didn’t Rise
The weather forecast had mentioned a storm system moving in from the north. Nothing unusual. But when 6:12 AM came and went without even a hint of light, something felt wrong.
By Salman Writes5 days ago in Fiction
Lifetimes . Content Warning.
Juliette I sigh as Itap my pen on my desk staring off into space, waiting for someone to tell me to do something and I think to myself I knew this would be boring but Jesus I'm gonna grow gray hairs waiting here. I get snapped out of my thoughts when I feel my desk shake and I see a big pile of papers towering over me as a man that won't even meet my eyes but scans my body says to me, the boss wants you to go over these and make sure everything is correct and when and/or if you are done bring them back to my desk.
By cheyenne 5 days ago in Fiction
The Night Everyone Forgot 3:17
The first time Nora noticed 3:17, it was on a Tuesday, which felt unfair. Tuesdays were supposed to be anonymous days, the kind that slipped past without requiring you to remember anything about them. She was closing up the coffee shop where she worked, wiping down the last sticky table, when her phone buzzed with a notification.
By Pine News5 days ago in Fiction
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 Lacksonen5 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 Sherman5 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 5 days ago in Fiction