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Discover weekly, the best short stories

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

8870+ Suspense Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. From bizarre characters to creeping threats, this collection of suspense short stories gives you an exciting array of bone-chilling tales.

Suspense Short Stories – Page 34 of 592

Grey Eyes

Submitted to Contest #289

‘The room is... unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here.’ Words whispered for the fifth time from creased, crinkled lips. Words that barely carried themselves over to the other side of the twee room. Where a man sat. To him, it seemed as though the old woman’s face was being slowly squashed by the confusion, like a rusty, bent nail yielding to the hammers blows. ‘This is your home; you’re happy here.’  'No, no, this isn’t my home; where am I?’  The man’s eyes stared at the old woman as she shook her head and rocked slightly in her ...

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Photographs

Submitted to Contest #289

The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here.  I feel…heavy. My limbs feel leaden, and my senses feel dull, sluggish. With bleary eyes, I scan the room for something, anything to identify where I am. It’s a bedroom, one I don’t recognize. It’s neatly organized, almost cozy. I look over at the mahogany dresser across from me and the assortment of items on top of it - brushes, toiletries, pictures, jewelry, all sitting neatly in their proper place, arranged carefully by their owner. The bed underneath me creaks and groans as I slo...

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Breathless

Submitted to Contest #289

"She’s drowning!” I didn’t see her go under the surface of the water. I wasn’t paying attention. I just knew that a minute ago, she was there, and now all I could see were the rippling circles expanding out from where she had been last. I watched for her to resurface, but she didn’t. I waited a little longer. The dark water returned to its motionless calm. Nothing. Too much time had gone by. I looked around for help, but who could I ask? Two important people in their white lab coats were comparing notes with each other. Grabbing one person’s...

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Who's Who

Submitted to Contest #289

The early morning chats had quickly become a ritual. There was comfort here. He smiled as he greeted his alter-ego. “Hi Sam,” he said into the empty room. “Hey Sam!” returned an eerily similar voice, “how you doing today?” “I’m good,” said Sam cheerily, “all the better for hearing your voice. “Glad to hear it,” said the disembodied voice, “all set for your day?” Sam paused and drew in a breath, “yeah, I reckon I am.” The chat carried on as Sam flitted here and there. He’d awoken at the first ring of his alarm and quickly got prepared for the...

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Away

Submitted to Contest #289

“The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here.”“Let’s try again Ryan. Tell us where you are, and how you got there.”I take a deep breath, hold it for a beat, then let it out through my nose. The voice in my head is asking the impossible. “I’m in a room,” I tell the voice again. I think I would’ve lost count of how many times we’ve gone back and forth with this if numbers existed here, but I have this sick feeling in my gut that they don’t. I just know the voice keeps asking and I keep trying to answer. “It’s got walls…sort of, an...

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Brinley Street

Submitted to Contest #289

My father went to work everyday. Every day. Seven days a week. Even on holidays sometimes. Sometimes my mother would yell at him. Sometimes she didn’t bother. He’d ask her if she liked our house. Our nice house in a nice neighborhood on a beautiful island. A paradise. Even if in the winter it felt like a hollowed out stuffed animal. Still fun to look at, but not much to hold. Safety and good schools. I took French lessons. Really, I did. French lessons. Back then, that was all middle class. It didn’t mean you were rich. I never thought we we...

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A Choice

Submitted to Contest #289

  Orange streetlamps flicker flames onto my counter-top as I consider the knife. It’s a beautiful thing: ten inches long, with a rippled pattern down the blade. The handle is smooth in my grip- a treated wood, pleasing to touch. It’s sharp; I was just cutting parsnips with it.What made me pause, made me look? Why do I watch the reflected light play across the silvered steel?It would be easy, I think. I drop it. The metal clinks against the counter, wobbling for a moment before coming to rest. I retreat from it, my hands coming up t...

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Tempus Fugitive

Submitted to Contest #289

This neighborhood definitely wasn’t what she’d been expecting. Amidst towering skyscrapers and opulent hotels, a squat grey building of only three stories sat looking as out of place as a dowdy aunt at the Oscar awards. Samantha Reilly checked her GPS once more: this was definitely the right place. Exiting her car, she made her way towards the unassuming looking structure, her mind running over the letter she’d recently received. “If you want information about the downtown killings, come to this address.” It was years since anyone had put pe...

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The Cougar

Submitted to Contest #289

Disclaimer: This story involves actions that can be associated with pedophilia and online grooming. There are no violent or sexual scenes. However, the dialogue is intended to be uncomfortable to read as someone on the outside sees the events unfold. This story does not promote or glorify pedophilia. Nor attack those who are part of the LGBTQ+ community.--He didn’t look like much. He was quiet and meek despite his lengthy frame, and he didn’t pose much of a threat to anyone. He wore glasses that matched his cheap haircut. His clothes were as...

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The Wrong One

Submitted to Contest #289

The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here. Vivi thinks to herself, staring blankly into the empty room. Darkness engulfs her vision, her eyes adjusting to the unfamiliar surroundings. She reaches for her phone, it’s gone. Panic consumes her, bile rises in her throat. Oh no I’m going to be sick she thinks to herself. She tries to regulate her breathing, short quick breaths  coming faster and faster. Her hands fall to her side and hit a solid surface. She feels around. Cold concrete greets her palms. She grounds herself, feel th...

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4:35 AM

L J

Submitted to Contest #289

I was walking down the hall in an almost empty airport when my phone rang "Hello? Hello? Who is it? You called me, what do you want? "I looked at the caller ID. It was the same unknown caller that I've seen before. The clock on my phone said 2:45 pm, my plane was going to take off in 45 minutes. I started to run down the hall to the check- in desk. I arrived breathless and sat down until called to board. My phone rang again "Hello? yes, this is Mina. Who is calling?" Only emptiness, a haunting silence. "Who is this? Hah, my plane is leaving ...

25 likes 4 comments 4
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The Time Between Us

Submitted to Contest #289

The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here.I blink and squint, trying to make sense of the place I’ve awoken in. The walls are smooth, almost metallic, and they hum gently with an eerie, rhythmic vibration. The bed I’m lying in feels soft and unnatural beneath my body, like a cloud, yet it cradles me in a way I’ve never experienced. A faint, cool light glows from fixtures along the walls—no candles, no fire. There is no trace of the world I know.I sit up quickly, my head spinning, and a sharp pain shoots through my skull, forcing me...

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The Last Stop

Submitted to Contest #289

Grace awoke to the rhythmic clatter of steel wheels against tracks. The train rocked softly, inducing a strange sense of disorientation in her. It was like a thick fog, enveloping her senses and leaving her feeling lost and helpless. She blinked repeatedly, attempting to align herself as the dim glow of overhead lights cast elongated shadows across the aisle. The shadows revealed rows of empty seats stretching endlessly in both directions, enhancing her feeling of isolation. "I'm on a train; how did I get here?" Grace whispered. She sat up s...

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Fifteen Seconds

Submitted to Contest #289

                      (This Story Is Based On True Events.)                                                                ...

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Rogue Wave

Submitted to Contest #289

Gust slices against the fishing boat as Marcello and Antonio heave together, preparing to cast their fishing net overboard.“The future?” Antonio teases. “What are you worrying so much for?” He easily ties his part of the line, ensuring a connection between the ship and netting.“I dunno, Tony. I just get thinking.” Marcello finishes tying his knot slower, then slumps against the side railing. He let his gloved hand run along the sea-rusted metal. “You sure this thing’s safe in waters like this?”“See there is your problem. The thinking. You ar...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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