Set all or part of your story in a jam-packed storage unit.
Posted in Mystery on Feb 10, 2023
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✍️ 46 stories
“LOVE LOCKER FOR SALE” by Susan Catucci
“Darling, would you like more wine? Just a touch? We can always open another. It’s not every evening we get to enjoy one of your succulent roasts, is it? And with potatoes gratin, no less. You know they’re my favorite. You spoil me, you always have. I honestly don’t know what I ever did to deserve you. I’m just so glad I did whatever it was, and just know I would do it again if it meant another lifetime to spend with you.”Maurice Chanel poured what was left into ...
“ Indiana? As in Jones?” by Chris Mueller
“We found him unconscious under the storage unit door.”“Strange. Well, get what you can out of him and fill out an accident report,” the sergeant said. “I’m heading back to the station.”“Sergeant, he's claiming he was attacked.”“Attacked?” his right eyebrow raised. “All right, I guess it's a crime scene. Go ahead, tape it off.” “Sir, he's concussed and confused. He can't remember much and, um, uh—-.” “Spit it out, Officer.”“Um,” he smirked, “He said his name is Indiana.”“As in Jon...
“You Must Keep Quiet, Little Ruslan” by RJ Holmquist
Gaziantepe Turkey, February 5th, 2023***“You must keep quiet, little Ruslan,” said my mother, “they cannot know we’re here.” I nodded, but I did not want her to go.“I will be back soon with something good to eat. Just stay quiet, and do not move. Will you promise?” I nodded again. She adjusted my mittens and checked that my coat was tightly closed, then stepped quickly out the door.We had stayed two nights already in this room so full of dusty ...
“Murder at the Roadhouse Saloon” by Frank Lester
I dozed, peacefully drooling on the notes from my philosophy class when the phone began its merciless shriek. My heart stopped. Notes, pens, and phone scattered across the floor in my shocked and befuddled response.Groggy, I rifled through the refuse until the lighted face of the phone gleamed from under the bed. Grabbing it, I cursed the caller. The ID announced, “Carol.”“Who the hell is Carol and why is she calling at—” I checked the time in the upper left corner of the phone “—four p.m.?” I rubbed the grit from my eyes an...
“The Faceless” by Shane Murray
The stained and rusted steel doors groaned in the wind like the maw of a sleeping dragon. Adam took it in while he waited by the team’s truck. The old igloo ammo bunker built during World War Two was now a personal storage warehouse, sold off like the others in the area when the government no longer needed the infrastructure. Located in the middle of nowhere, Hamilton Township, Illinois, the place felt like a forgotten ruin. A simple chain link fence with a small access hut next to the gate separated the gravel lot ...
“Henkin’s Mellified Honey” by Jack Kimball
According to Wikipedia, for at least 2,700 years honey has been used by humans to treat a variety of ailments through topical application. The contents of the mellification process however would turn the honey into ‘sort of a confection reputedly capable of healing broken limbs and other ailments. This confection would then be sold in street markets as a hard to find item with a hefty price’. “Do you think he’s ready?” The only care remaining in Ann Henkins was for her son, John Jr., who everyone called Li...
“Old Man Jenkins” by Kev Neylon
Everyone knew Old Man Jenkins was a hoarder. His house had been deemed a fire hazard decades ago, piles of all sorts of everything making the inside of it like a maze, one in almost complete darkness as natural light couldn’t get in through the windows, covered as they were with boxes and piles of rubbish, and no one wanted to turn the lights on for the fear of their bare bulbs sparking a fire on one of the many piles of...
“Orange and Yellow, by Rothko” by Marty B
Harry thought it would have been a lot easier to steal from his Stepdad, since he was dead. But they had to get into the unit at StoragePro first. “No.” The guard said. “We‘re his stepsons,” Harry pleaded. “Look, we have the key and everything.” He held up a key with the StoragePro logo. The guard buzzed them into the entrance. “What unit?” He looked them up and down, sensing so...
“The Collector” by Valerie Church
THE COLLECTOR Arthur was, as usual, the last to leave his office. He tidied his desk, emptied the waste basket, put the file he was working on back into the filing cabinet and brushed away a recalcitrant morsel of fluff. He liked to keep his desk clean and orderly, shuddering at the thought of the sticky remains of surreptitious snacks he had noticed on his neighbour’s working surface. Not that hi...
“THE ANGEL WITH FLOWERY WINGS” by Mara Masolini
THE ANGEL WITH FLOWERY WINGS Richard, who had always been a framer, had begun to collect every work of painting that he happened to find or that he could afford to buy since, for almost a long time now, with the advent of contemporary art, painting seemed a forgotten practice, certainly no longer considered an art. If you continued to paint in the era of installations an...
“Pink Strands and Graham Crackers ” by S N
This story explores themes of Mental Illness and Self Harm. Reader discretion is advised. Everything is pink. And soft. And offensive. Large too, yes. Everything is massive in this room and I hate it. How did she get them in here? “Shoe box,” has been used to described rooms like this, but this pales. This is a matchbox. Half, half of a match box and just as packed. “Sara...
“My Momma’s Things” by David B Fraser
The storage unit door rolled up. Eduardo stood with his elderly momma beside him and his wife behind them. “Okay, momma, let me get a chair for you.” Eduardo took out from high a Louis XV style chair and placed it on the concrete for her. He got one out for Maria, but she waved him away and fumbled for her cigarettes and lighter. “Could you do that over there?” He pointed. She gave him a look of o...
“Memories” by Isaac Walker
Along with the fortune I inherited through my father's death, I got a key to an old storage locker that my father had seemed so keen on keeping secretive and hidden. I remember him being so proud of buying it. I was around twelve or so then, which is insane because it has already been ten years since that day. I don't think my father intended to have to give my sister and me the key so soon, but it's not like getting mi...
“Oxygen deprived rambling” by Kajetan Badach
Head spinning and skull crashing. Gonna need several of these nasty sour vitamin shots this time.Okay, breathe in, breathe out. Open my eyes in 3.. 2.. 1..Oh, they’re already open. And I can’t see shit. Has alcohol decided to take my optic nerve this time? Okay, that’s new. I got pretty good at letting things go, but this one’s in a whole different category of losses. Uhh, on the bright side, there’s a lot of truly awful sights. No more people’s disap...
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