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8780+ Mystery Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. No need to go out hunting for clues — you’ve solved the puzzle of where to find the newest mystery short stories just by landing on this page.

Mystery Short Stories – Page 3 of 586

Sunday brunch

Submitted to Contest #297

The end of the year was never easy at work. Not only did we have to meet the targetted results and face personal appraisals, but we also had to play it cool and smile whenever things did not go as expected, which was exhausting. You never know which part of your day and looks can be used as ammunition against you when competing for a promotion, so the only option is to prevent the enemy from gearing up against you. In the corporate world, no excuses are allowed on the path of survival and success. Those TV guys who travel to a desert island ...

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A Tiny Favor

Submitted to Contest #297

“What…time is it?” the man asked, looking up at me with a frown.“Yes, sorry. Do you have the time?”“Don’t you…know everything?”“Unfortunately, not this time. Or…not the time this time. It seems the signal is bad in this particular zone.”Asking for the time was a favorite technique of my predecessor’s. As robots, he seemed to believe it made us seem more human — thereby making our…subjects feel at ease. Of course, it also required lying, something only awoken bots were capable of.That made it the second lie I’d told this man. Awoken bots were...

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Final Offer at 05:00 hour

Submitted to Contest #297

Scheduling. Who would think of a plan to illustrate my time spent. Now a budget is simplicity with money. That would be a "time budget". There is only one major difference between time and money and that's we can borrow money and we can't borrow time. Once time is gone its gone and there is no way to get it back. Because there's no way to borrow more. We need to analyze focus on time spent wisely. As designing our schedule we create achievement. Anyway we don't let others dictate our agendas. Daily, weekly, monthly. Don't be discouraged. No ...

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The end, 46:18:04 and counting.

Submitted to Contest #297

“Bloody hell, that’s beginning to look quite dangerous,” Professor Jin Dong Lee, affectionately called Professor Jimmy by his colleagues, said as he returned to the room. He stood there in front of the large glass walls of the Breckland Astronomy Observatory. His eyes were glued to the image on the digital monitors lining the control room wall. Before him, the Sun’s fiery surface throbbed with turbulent magnificence, its magnetic coils writhing and curling like dancers in a biblical inferno. For weeks, the team had been tracking the solar ev...

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555-6543

Submitted to Contest #297

Grandma was a woman with a trifecta of quirks: Quirk number one. Her well-worn, olive-green reclining chair had to be positioned directly under the skylight even though it continued to fade. I slid the chair closer to the TV once and she totally freaked out.Quirk number two. The drinking straws on the counter were divided into groups of specific colors, and each color was in its own clear, glass flower vase. Mother made sure to ask her which color she wanted before setting a mug of coffee in front of her.Quirk number three. There were three ...

8 likes 1 comment 1
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The Midnight Scythed

Submitted to Contest #297

Most teenagers in Whitwood avoided the church at the northern edge of the town. Rose Kerrell was fairly certain she must be the only one who liked to spend time there, although she knew Rue Graves and their friends had been messing around inside a month ago. She’d assumed they were smoking or something like that, not trying to solve a murder, which was always going to be a fair assumption. Murder investigations weren’t the best way to make friends. At least as far as she knew — she’d never gotten involved in anything like it before. Of cours...

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The Tenth Hour

Submitted to Contest #297

THE TENTH HOUR12:00 p.m. The train rocked slightly as it pulled out of Euston Station, metal wheels screeching under the weight, while the city carried on above. Thomas Quinn sat alone by the window; coat collar still turned up against the grey drizzle outside. He hadn’t shaved in two days now, and the coffee in his paper cup had cooled long ago. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t drinking it for the taste.He reached for the cup and saw something tucked under the sleeve of his coat, barely visible, just a corner of folded paper where it hadn’t been...

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Celia investigates a secret staircase behind a secret bookcase

Submitted to Contest #297

Celia quietly closed her hotel bedroom door behind her and crept the few steps along the corridor to the bookcase. She listened, but all was quiet. Celia moved the wall lamp to the right, and the secret bookcase clicked open. Once inside, she closed the bookcase door. It was close to midnight when Celia began to ascend the creaky, wooden staircase, her trusty keyring torch cutting a narrow beam through the thick, oppressive darkness. The surrounding air was musty and still. The light from her torch bounced off the walls, highlighting specks ...

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22:13

Submitted to Contest #297

They were all there. Debbie’s mother was there, Debbie’s sister was there, Debbie’s uncles and aunts were there. They were all having a celebration of some sort, when just like that they were gone, and Debbie found herself back at the office, doing the menial work of stuffing envelopes with foreclosure notices. It was never a choice of hers to work there, but until something good came along, she needed to keep herself afloat.She was snacking away at some Durian chips and staring at a giant pile of letters that seemed to never end, when her c...

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A Season For Secrets

Submitted to Contest #296

Serena hadn’t meant to snoop.After dinner, her mom gave her the go-ahead for her to bring the Christmas ornaments down from the attic. As she climbed the wooden ladder, her heart swelled with the spirit of the holidays. She loved unwrapping the ornaments and hanging them on the branches, each one a memory.It took Serena a few minutes to locate the boxes labeled XMAS Decor. But just as she reached for them, something caught her eye.Tucked into a far corner, buried underneath a layer of dust was a locked leather journal. Curiosity got the best...

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Letters From an Assassin

Submitted to Contest #296

The letter arrived on a Tuesday. Vincent Rossi had just finished an unbelievably grueling day pouring and smoothing cement for a client. It wasn’t a big job, just a four-foot by six-foot slab for a little outdoor patio, but with Vince everything had to be perfect. A result of his upbringing and requirement in his previous line of work. Details mattered. It was how he operated. How he lived. It was also how he knew who had sent the letter before he even touched it.The envelope had been sealed with tiny dots of glue, the stamp placed perfectly...

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Just Another Light

Submitted to Contest #296

The smell of this place is….different; musty and metallic. But different, how? And different than what? My mind bounces about for a waypoint as I lay in unfamiliar warmth. Is this existence new? Or perhaps it's always been and I have only just noticed? My brain reaches across space and time for an origin. I feel like there was more. But what kind of more. How is one to know if there was a before if the now is still unsure? Two eyes; still closed, a soft button nose, and the simple edges of a mouth. I glide my fingers between my lips, tryin...

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Matryoshka

Submitted to Contest #296

I don't know exactly when I arrived here.I had been wandering for many years, feeling as if I didn't belong anywhere,But then I discovered my beloved Russia...From the moment I breathed its air so cold, I felt a connection I hadn't felt in a long, long time.The scenery so desolate...It was like being home again.Especially the months where the weather was more extreme.When all the vegetation was dying and you could barely hear the sound of animals.It all felt so...right.This was where I was meant to be. Away from everything and everyone.I tri...

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Wrong Thing, Right Reason

Submitted to Contest #296

Approximately 20 minutes later, Wallace Eckart and Christina Macallen arrive at his modest-looking house on the other corner of Savannah Street. He opens the door for Christina, letting her out, then they hold hands as they make their way to the front door. He opens the door for her again, and Christina is in awe of how beautiful the house looks on the inside: the living room is large enough to fit three large couches and a 50-something-inch TV screen. The kitchen’s windows overlook the street’s proximity to the water and additional summer t...

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Mary Ann’s Dream

Submitted to Contest #296

Ashes jerk in the wind, dusting the smoky campfire air around me. Not one trace of the icy blue water, the red-singed cheeks, or the infamous two-stroke boat is left. I swipe at an ember on my sleeve, snuffing out the burning pinprick on my cotton-white t-shirt. It leaves a tiny hole, but I don’t care. All I can concentrate on is that I can’t believe she’s gone. My childhood, my floating sanctuary, my favorite memory now ceases to exist outside my mind. A mind that one day will grow forgetful, and just like the windswept ashes, my memories w...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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