Mystery
The Spiritualist of Broad Street
London, 1887 The Swanson Theatre stood in the shadow of the workhouse, its façade stained black from the smoke of industry. Discarded playbills lay rotting in the street, beneath crumbling walls slick with grime. The dilapidated establishment was a favourite haunt of London’s working class. But tonight, a very different crowd would congregate within its walls.
By Amelia Mathis 4 years ago in Fiction
Midnight Mysteries
During the summer of 1987 the week started off like any other week when I was making my rounds through the neighborhood. Every morning I delivered people’s newspapers before the crack of dawn. Yes I was the paperboy who would bike through the neighborhood tossing newspapers on peoples lawns. Even accidentally missed the sidewalk and broke a window once, but that is a story for another time. Then, one morning, out of no where everything changed.
By Ruby Estelle 4 years ago in Fiction
River Crossing
River looked down at the huge package next to her desk wondering where it had come from. It showed up sometime during her lunch break and she had no idea who had sent it. No one she knew mentioned they were sending her something, and they would have sent it to her apartment anyway. Work would never have sent her a package like this, yet here it was, her name scrolled across the brown paper that covered the package.
By Viltinga Rasytoja4 years ago in Fiction
Thinking Inside the Box
I opened my eyes to see nothing but black. Was I asleep, or was I awake? Was it day, or was it night? My thoughts were actively running so I deduced that I was awake. But where was I? I could hear the ruffling of Styrofoam. I could feel the stretch of plastic wrap. I tried to move but I was strictly secured, as if for my own protection. There was no light, no space, and absolutely no sense of time. I began to doubt myself again and question whether I was actually asleep and this was all an elaborate yet intimidating dream. All of a sudden I felt movement. I felt myself being pulled against gravity, as if I were being lifted upwards. And then thumped on a hard surface, I was dropped. I heard a pop of bubble wrap, the sound so close to my ears that it made me flinch. My immediate instincts were to thrash until I could break free from my restraints, but the more I tried, the more I tired. It was useless. I heard an engine turn on, and I was on the move again. Am I being kidnapped? Who put me in here? Where are they taking me? My mind was racing with thoughts, puzzling myself into a deeper mental constraint than the physical one I was already in.
By Yulian Starchenko4 years ago in Fiction
Boxed In
The loud booming music shook the floor from upstairs, sending vibrations throughout the entire house. Carmen looked over at Kyle and, without saying a word, shook her head in frustration. Carmen had just about enough of the noise, so she got up from the loveseat in the living room and made her way into the kitchen to cook. Kyle understood his wife's irritation, he too, was fed up with the racket coming from Simone's room.
By Sean Hunter4 years ago in Fiction
The Mystery Box
The Mystery Box was a small shop hidden behind the bus station at the corner of Hyde and Fourth. It was made with brick, worn brown and dirty over the long years. It sold - perhaps unsurprisingly - mystery boxes. Not many people visited the shop - but all who did went because of the knowledge of what they might receive.
By Samuel Tjornhom4 years ago in Fiction
