Mystery

It’s Book O’Clock
The bell rang with a loud sound and echoed across the entire school. However, for Emma, a ten-year-old girl, it was not the end of class – the chime signaled Book O’Clock which was her favorite period.
By Sibgha2 years ago in Fiction
Murphy The Swamp Monster. Top Story - November 2024.
“Run!” I screamed, as the ground shifted and erupted around us. Still half stuck in the muck, I watched as the rest of our group, led by the glowing button, fled deeper into the forest. I held no blame for them because there was nothing they could do to save me. Large chunks of dense mud and sticks fell all around my position, completely cutting me off.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
Showing me the magic
Years ago, in the vibrant city of Rio de Janeiro, there lived a young man named Pedro. Pedro worked at a prestigious marketing firm, but despite the outward success, he felt a constant undercurrent of dissatisfaction. He had been with the company for a few months, navigating a steep learning curve before settling into a routine. Yet, the nagging feeling that he was meant for something more wouldn’t leave him.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
Blossoming in Our Own Time
A few years ago, I stumbled upon a book by Rich Karlgaard called Late Bloomers, The Power of Patience In A World Obsessed With Early Achievement. The title struck a chord with me, like an unexpected harmony that makes you pause and listen. I consider myself a late bloomer—a term Merriam-Webster describes as “someone who becomes successful, attractive, etc., at a later time in life than other people.” Apparently, I’m not alone; many people share this sentiment.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
A Twist of Fate on a Midnight Train
It was during the summer of 2018 that Ana, a bright-eyed eighteen-year-old, returned to Brazil for her university studies. Her parents still lived in Europe, and she felt an overwhelming sense of homesickness in her first semester. Everything seemed daunting—adjusting to her new roommate, an aloof senior who barely acknowledged her presence, juggling the rigorous academic schedule, and adapting to the chaotic life in the student hostel. She found herself wondering how she would survive an entire year without seeing her parents. Adding to her woes, she had to endure the unofficially sanctioned hazing rituals of the first few weeks, which often left her in tears.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
Life Circle
My back-door neighbors disappear almost fully every summer. It’s a slow, patchy, green obscuration, courtesy of a tall persimmon tree next to the fence that separates our houses. Today morning, as I stand at the kitchen sink filling water in a small saucepan and look out of the window in the back, their seasonal eclipsing is almost at totality. Only an edge of their terracotta tile roof and part of the upstairs window remain. Come fall, the gaps between the branches of the tree, bending under the weight of many fruit, will widen. And, as I walk through the different levels of my house, I’ll start to catch glimpses of them again. An upside-down triangle view of their patio door and the periodic appearance of the man as he jogs in circles around his house. Or, of the lady sitting on the step with her back resting against the pale brown-pink walls, head tilted, and her eyes closed against the sun. I always feel a strange reassurance at their reappearance. We don’t know each other, but they’re part of a cycle I unconsciously track, and though I can never be sure of the shape their return will take, I still count on the little predictability it offers.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
Unwelcomed Smuggler
The fog hung low over the harbor, shrouding the dilapidated ships that creaked like old bones in the chilly air. Among them, a lone figure moved with purpose, his silhouette a dark shadow against the dim glow of the streetlamps. Jake had lived a rough life, one marked by secrets and the weight of choices that clawed at his conscience. He was no stranger to this port, a haven for those seeking refuge from the law or the turmoil of their pasts. Tonight, he was on a mission. As a smuggler, he had learned to navigate the treacherous waters of the criminal underworld, but this time was different. The cargo he carried wasn’t just goods; it was a desperate plea for survival. Rumors had spread through the city like wildfire about a shipment of medicine destined for a remote village, cut off from the world by years of conflict. The villagers, too proud to ask for help, were slowly succumbing to illness. The desperate need for aid drew Jake into this web of danger, risking everything for a cause he believed in. He approached the dock where a rickety boat waited, its engine throbbing like a heartbeat. His contact, a grizzled man named Marco, was already there, pacing nervously. The man’s face was etched with lines of worry, and his eyes darted around as if expecting trouble to emerge from the shadows. “Jake,” Marco called, his voice hoarse. “We don’t have much time. The guards are on high alert. They know something is up.” “I know,” Jake replied, his pulse quickening. “But we can’t let them stop us. Those people need this medicine.” Marco nodded, his expression somber. “Alright, let’s load it up and get moving. Keep your head down.” As they worked under the cover of darkness, the sound of distant sirens echoed across the harbor. Each wail sent a jolt of fear through Jake, but he pushed it down, focusing on the task at hand. The crates were heavy, filled with life-saving supplies that could mean the difference between life and death for those in the village. He had never been one to care about the consequences of his actions, but tonight felt different. There was a purpose behind the danger, a reason to risk it all. Just as they finished loading the last crate, the low rumble of an approaching vehicle shattered the stillness. Panic surged through Jake as he glanced toward the road. “We need to go now!” he shouted. They jumped into the boat, Marco fumbling with the engine as Jake kept a vigilant eye on the shore. The headlights of a police cruiser cut through the fog, illuminating the dock. With a sputter, the engine roared to life, and they shot out into the murky water, the boat skimming over the surface like a frightened fish. The police sirens grew fainter behind them, but Jake knew they wouldn’t stop. The guards had their eyes on the harbor, and news of their escape would spread quickly. He steered the boat toward the small island where they planned to hide the cargo until dawn. Each passing wave felt like a reminder of the risks they had taken. As they reached the island, Jake helped Marco unload the crates. They worked swiftly, adrenaline coursing through their veins, but every rustle of the trees sent chills down Jake’s spine. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being hunted. Just as they finished, the sound of voices reached them, echoing through the darkness. The guards had followed their trail. Jake’s heart raced as he and Marco scrambled to find cover. They ducked behind a large boulder, straining to hear the approaching footsteps. “Split up!” one of the guards shouted. “They can’t have gone far!” Jake felt a surge of fear, but also a strange sense of determination. He couldn’t let them find the medicine. It was too important. As the guards closed in, he glanced at Marco, who nodded silently, understanding the unspoken plan. They would not let this mission end in failure. With a deep breath, Jake bolted into the shadows, heart pounding as he moved deeper into the underbrush, ready to fight for something greater than himself. The night was far from over, and he was determined to see it through, no matter the cost.
By zulfi bux2 years ago in Fiction
Escape from the House of Screams
"Does every haunted house have to feature a screaming soundtrack?" Lina asked, grimacing as another high-pitched shriek echoed through the hall. She adjusted her cat ears and cast a sideways glance at her best friend, Jules, who was wrapped up in a vampire cape.
By RK2 years ago in Fiction
Betrayal?
Katie and Dave Katie looks at her phone and then her dad. He is staring at the TV and hasn't turned to acknowledge her when she came in. She reaches for the phone, the knowledge that she'd never leave it there uppermost in her mind. She wonders whether to say anything but she's nervous.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
The Journey to My Wife's Heart
Three years ago, if you’d asked me, "Can you cook?" my answer would’ve been a sheepish, “Umm... I can make Maggie” And even that was hit or miss—either overcooked or too watery. Life was simple and uncomplicated until I got married.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
The Sealed Secret
In the small town of Ashgrove, surrounded by misty mountains and dense forests, Layla had always felt like a stranger in her own home. She lived with her grandmother, a woman known for her reclusive nature and an unsettling talent for silence. While the townsfolk adored Layla's grandmother, they treated her with a mix of admiration and fear. Layla never understood why, but she was used to living with the mystery that hung around her family like the fog over Ashgrove. One cold November evening, as Layla was sorting through an old chest in her grandmother’s attic, she came across a peculiar envelope. It was thick and sealed with a strange, crimson wax insignia—a symbol she’d never seen before. The envelope was marked with her name, in her grandmother’s neat handwriting. Curious, Layla took the envelope down to her grandmother’s study, where the older woman sat in her armchair, gazing into the flames of the fireplace as though they held secrets only she could see. "Gran," Layla said, holding out the envelope, "what’s this?" Her grandmother’s face darkened as her eyes met Layla’s. She glanced at the envelope, and her lips tightened into a thin line. “Where did you find that?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. “In the attic,” Layla replied. “It has my name on it. Why?” Her grandmother looked away, her gaze shifting to the shadows in the room. After a pause, she said, “It’s time, then. But remember, child, some secrets are best left alone.” With trembling hands, Layla broke the wax seal and unfolded the paper inside. The letter was written in her grandmother’s handwriting but appeared to be much older, the ink faded in places. My dearest Layla, If you’re reading this, it means I no longer have the strength to keep the truth from you. You have a gift, as did your mother and grandmother before her. It is a gift, but it is also a curse. We are the Guardians of Ashgrove, bound by blood and by fate to protect a secret hidden deep in the forest—a secret so ancient and powerful that even the land itself trembles in its presence. Layla's heart raced as she continued reading. Her grandmother explained that the town was built over a powerful artifact known as "The Sealed Heart," capable of granting immense power to whoever possessed it. However, it came with a price—those who tried to wield its magic without understanding its limits were said to be consumed by their own darkness, driven mad by insatiable greed. The letter went on to explain that the women in their family had been chosen as Guardians of the artifact, each passing down the duty to the next generation. They were tasked with keeping the artifact hidden, sealed within a secret chamber beneath the roots of Ashgrove’s oldest tree. But Layla’s grandmother was the last living Guardian. With her age and failing health, she feared she could no longer protect the Sealed Heart alone. She needed Layla to carry on the legacy. Stunned, Layla looked up from the letter, her eyes meeting her grandmother's weary gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked. Her grandmother sighed. “I wanted to protect you, Layla. But you are all I have left. This burden… it’s now yours to bear.” As the weight of her new reality sank in, Layla felt a strange pull within her, like an ancient connection awakening. It was as if the forest itself was calling to her. She remembered the way she had always felt when she wandered alone in the woods, sensing something just beyond her reach. The next morning, Layla and her grandmother ventured into the forest together. They walked until they reached the oldest tree, its roots twisting into the ground like veins. Her grandmother handed her a small key, intricate and cold to the touch. “Remember, Layla,” her grandmother said. “The power of the Sealed Heart is not meant for you or me to use. It’s our duty to protect it, to keep it hidden from those who would misuse it.” Layla took a deep breath and inserted the key into a hidden lock among the roots. A faint glow emerged as the earth shifted, revealing a staircase leading down into the darkness. As they descended, the air grew thick, and Layla felt the power of the Sealed Heart pulsing, like a heartbeat echoing in the silence. In that moment, she understood the weight of her responsibility. She was now a Guardian of Ashgrove, entrusted with a secret that could either destroy the town or protect it for generations to come. As she sealed the door behind her, Layla knew that her life would never be the same. The burden was hers now, but she carried it with the strength and wisdom passed down through generations, ready to protect the Sealed Heart—and her town—from any darkness that dared approach.
By zulfi bux2 years ago in Fiction
INTO THE SHADOWS: A JOURNEY BEYOND KNOWN
Missed Part One? Emily stumbles upon a mysterious bookstore on a midnight walk and encounters an enigmatic stranger who offer her a book containing secrets of unseen forces. Now, she faces a choice: uncover hidden truths or walk away from the unknown. Dive into part two and follow Emily's chilling journey further into the shadows.
By PSYGENIUS2 years ago in Fiction