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Discover weekly, the best short stories

Looking for a steady supply of crime short stories? Every week thousands of writers submit stories to our writing contest.

150+ Crime Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. Feed your fascination with the latest crime short stories. From thrilling accounts of lovable burglars to chilling tales of stone-cold murderers, these bite-sized pieces are so addictive, they should be illegal.

Crime Short Stories – Page 10 of 10

I Regret Not Killing You

Submitted to Contest #311

DISCLAIMER: This story contains graphic violence, murder, child violence, psychological torture, and disturbing themes centered around a serial killer protagonist. Reader discretion is strongly advised. STORY: The trees stood motionless as though they, too, held their breath. Amely stopped the car beside the quiet chalet. Three days had passed since she’d made her choice in that cold office—three days of careful planning. The memory of that office still burned. She had walked into Barrat Security Solutions feeling already small, her portfoli...

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Shelly's Big Day

Submitted to Contest #310

Shelly knew this was the moment. All she ever wanted was within arms reach. Just one stroke of the pen and life would change. It would be better. No, she thought, it would be great. Her life was dull, uninspired, and unfulfilled. Shelly craved the spotlight and early in life she had it. A star of her class in soccer and a success in theatre, so much so that Albion College granted her a scholarship to join the theatre program. It was a small school, but Shelly thrived and everyone saw the gift she had and the talent that was overgrown in the ...

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The Editor

Submitted to Contest #310

Ada looked up at the warehouse, scanning the tall, graffiti-covered walls and rusty bars that stretched across broken windows. The wind blew through her sweater and tossed a plastic shopping bag across the empty parking lot, lodging it in a patch of tall grass that grew from cracks in the pavement. She tucked her coffee into the crook of her elbow and rechecked her phone, confirming the address. This was it, 292 Coffman Street. She started to draft an email to Tammy Herstad, the woman who had interviewed her, when a voice made her jump. “Ar...

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The Trait

Submitted to Contest #311

The screaming ceased. Blood dripped down the staircase, the metallic scent thick in the air. Bits of flesh clung to the walls and floors.The pocketknife slipped from trembling fingers, clattering against the tiles, the sound echoing through the house.At the bottom of the stairs, a figure stood frozen. Wide eyes. An open mouth twisted in horror. One of them moved first. A wet sound and blood gushed from one of their chests.“You should have known better than to be curious. You know how I hate it,” she whispered, voice cold, almost tender, a sm...

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Solving a mystery

Submitted to Contest #310

Solving a mystery Patrick liked to arrive early on a warm summer’s morning and take a coffee before he turned the key to the front door, switched on the lights and took down the shutters. He sat on the cafe’s terrace in front of his bookshop for a few minutes thinking about his uncertain future. His was the only independent bookshop in the town. There were two other large bookstores owned by national names known in the book distribution activity. In the last few years the sector was being dominated by Amazon. He felt like a tadpole caught in...

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Did it for you

Submitted to Contest #310

Marksville, Texas1996 Being a librarian is not the most glamorous of jobs, but in a town like Marksville, there aren’t many options. Each day is almost exactly the same, and today would be no exception. I’ve grabbed my just okay coffee, and I can already see the little brick building in the distance. Setting my belongings down at my desk, I begin preparing everything before the first customers arrive. “Mornin’, Moira!” A boisterous voice calls out from the back room. There is only one other person who would be here earlier than I. “Hey ...

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Diary of When I was Boricua

Submitted to Contest #310

July 1, 2025 Diary entry:Thank you God I'm so grateful that you put that right therapist back in my life.Amen.—-That was three years ago, as my guides slowly revealed the insights I needed to step into my next timeline in this life on Earth. I self published a story that was never meant to be read online, but it turns out that when you're writing, you have to write as everyone you know is dead.I published my self identity funeral and before the day arrived I was living the reality of what I advertised, my life was shattered in the brink of a...

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I Wish I’d Finished the Book

Submitted to Contest #310

The bell above the door rings. Morticia Astin smiles politely as Enid Skolnick enters her bookstore. Frizzy-haired, with glasses as thick as they come, Enid is a steady but hard-to-please customer, a devout “Star Trek” fan with more books, posters, and DVDs than the actors who starred in the series.“Anything new?” Enid inquires.Reaching under the front desk, Morticia shows Enid two paperbacks, proclaiming proudly, “The Pike Chronicles, volumes fourteen and fifteen.”“Dun Quee!”“Huh?”Enid throws her arms around Morticia, smothering her.“That’s...

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Burn This Book

Submitted to Contest #310

Δολοφονία* ForwardThis book is transcribed by hand. If you possess this book, then you know that you are a part of a rare group. This book is to serve one purpose only.If you have found this book without instructions, destroy this book. Burn it. Do not turn the page. You will regret the day you read this forward even if you follow my directions. There are things about this book that can only be explained to you by a previous owner. When he is finished with the book, he will know exactly who should inherit it. He will know what to tell you.If...

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Of an Old Man, Golden SIlverware and The House That Looks Like a Boat

Submitted to Contest #310

The little bell stringed to the top of the door rang briefly when it opened. “Good morning, sir,” I greeted the old man entering my shop. “How may I help you today?” “My, my, what a place you got here,” he said, looking around the little room crammed with antique books on shelves and books stacked on top of each other in neat columns in the middle of it. “Thank you kindly,” I said, smiling. “What brings you in today?” “Oh, I was just passing through the main square when I noticed this store that wa...

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Bad Boys

Submitted to Contest #310

It was a beautiful summer day in Amarillo, Texas; not one to be lazy, inside all day, nope- Austin was fifteen, restless, and bored. Venturing farther from home, he roamed the neighborhood, looking and searching for anything or anyone who would give him the feeling of worth and he was on a mission to accomplish his journey, since age eight.I knew that more likely than not, he would, at some point, come across the 'bad boys', the delinquents, who thrived on drama and created chaos. They were, sort of, bullies who didn’t show any shyness to at...

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The Murder at Fourmile Farm

Submitted to Contest #310

“Excuse me, Sir. Do you have a book on Fourmile Farm?”The visitor seemed to be diffident about interrupting me but honestly, I want to sell books, not organize the shelves. She was an older woman, not the typical ghoul who wanted to relive the spicy aspects of the murder. I wondered if she was a local, or perhaps a relative from out of town.“You mean about the murder? There’s a book by a local author that gives all the details, along with a couple of likely explanations. Is that the kind of thing you want?”She winced at my description. Possi...

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Sunken City of the Saco

Submitted to Contest #310

NOTE BEFORE READING: This story explores themes that some may find distressing. It includes depictions of long-term grief and trauma, psychological manipulation, kidnapping, and scenes of physical violence. Please proceed with care. The bookshop was a mausoleum of paper and dust, a quiet monument to a love of stories Elias Thorne had inherited from his older sister, Eleanor. Ten years she’d been gone, vanished like a character from one of the folklore books she’d adored, leaving Elias the sole keeper of her legacy and the struggling busine...

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Ink and Ivy

Submitted to Contest #310

The rain was a steady whisper against the windows, tapping out a rhythm that could put a priest to sleep or drive a guilty man to confession. It was just past nine on a Tuesday night, and my bookstore was as empty as the promises on a politician’s lips. I was wiping down the counter, slow and bored, when she walked in.Red coat, soaked at the hem. A look like she'd just come from a funeral or was on her way to cause one. Her eyes flicked across the room, fast and cold, like they were looking for exits more than books. I pegged her for trouble...

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Careful What You Write, I Might Be Written

Submitted to Contest #310

“The two kids ran from being murderers.”I remember the old man rasping, his voice hollow from a lifetime of smoke. His library carried the same aroma — it reeked of ash, mold, and dusty paper.I forced myself to nod like it was the first time I’d heard the story.Like I hadn’t already watched it happen.He crushed an ash into an overflowing tray. Smoke curled under the low ceiling.And I let the silence hang between us.“Any suspects?”“Case was closed four years ago. The town forgot it. No one knew someone would still be dug up in the dirt,” I sa...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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