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Discover weekly, the best short stories

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

150+ 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 10

THUMP-THUMP

Weekly Contest #348

[violence-gunfire-death] THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP. “What is that thumping?” Andy said to himself. Wherever he was, it was dark. He tried to move, but it felt like his arms, legs, and even his eyelids were heavy. Too heavy to move. THUMP…. “Finally, that thumping stopped. I wonder what it was.” Andy just lay there in the dark. He heard people talking, but they sounded far away. “OH GREAT! That high-pitched whine has replaced that incessant thumping. Just what I need when I am trying to get to sleep.” Andy starte...

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The Forgotten Character

Weekly Contest #348

"Do you hear that says Rick to Ryan?""What the author snoring said Ryan?""We're used to the author snoring said Rick the character it's coming from the back of the author head"Not wanting to draw much attention to this or wake up the author Ryan goes along with it."Yeah it sounds like a baby crying says Ryan and I heard if you ignore it they will go back to sleep".Trying his best not to go hysterical Rick decides another approach."Let's takes a adventure towards back of the author head and see if we can find were the sound or noise is coming...

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Evidence

Weekly Contest #347

Quick Note. I'm not sure if this fits the prompt, but it was the first thing that came to mind. Marcus pulls up to the apartment building. Checking the paper to make sure this is the right place. Refreshing the details in his mind. A deep sigh leaves his lips. “Suck it up! This is all for her.” Opening the door, putting on his gloves, he makes his way inside. Choosing the elevator over the stairs. Floor 2, room 21. His eyes scour the doors and ceiling for any visible cameras. Clenching the knife in his pocket with his right hand. The left ha...

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The Little Pearlmaid

Lee Paul

Weekly Contest #347

I haven't seen her for days. The sudden thought startled me, and my next thought was that I thought wrong. I tried to place when last we met or even spoke; it had been days. I owed her many, many apologies. I missed her birthday—our birthday, as it was one we fatefully shared. I could've had a letter delivered with a few roses; although she claimed to find their aroma nauseating, I knew it was on account of romance being foreign to her. My absence of consideration was inexcusable. Notwithstanding, the past few days had been exhilarating and ...

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He loves me. He loves me not.

Kayliegh Hereford

Weekly Contest #347

“And does the happy couple of heroes have anything to say? Some romantic details, maybe?” The interviewer asked the two people sitting on the couch. That beautiful woman laughed, her angel wings–the only truly pretty thing about her–fluttering. Every other part of her body was…wrong. Average, she had been told all her life. But those wings. Those wings won her everything. The woman leaned her head into her love. Her only love. He had smiled, and draped his arm around her. She’d felt so special, so safe, wrapped in his warm grip. “Well,” she ...

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Water Under the Bridge

MJ Capers

Weekly Contest #347

This was it. This was Aria’s chance. If she could just nail that murdering scum, not only would she be the cop arresting the Bridge Killer, she’d be the natural pick for the new Head Investigator at Savannah PD Homicide Division. Everything she ever wanted. Aria just needed to find that last clue, which was why she was ignoring the pesky knocking. “Yo, Linden!” The voice behind her made her jump. “Wake up. It’s time to head out.” Aria spun around and looked at her partner with confusion. “Head out? Where?” Jordan Michaels, her partner of fiv...

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The Communication Tactics of the Universe

Virginia Lawrence

Weekly Contest #347

I never said I liked children. They’re noisy, industrious little fools bent on having their own way or nothing at all. Like little versions of their parents, or heroes, stuffed into disproportionately miniature bodies. Their voices are too loud, their minds too sharp, and their sense of justice is tricky to dodge. Sometimes, when I’m feeling nostalgic for a world that was never mine, I wonder if I was like that.Small.Fragile.Innocent.But children are creepy, inevitable, and stuffy—things I am not.Rolling back my immaculate suit jacket cuffs,...

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Death at One O'Clock

Autumn Reid

Weekly Contest #347

A commotion increasing in intensity caught my attention from where I was standing impatiently on the railway platform. The one o’clock train, that I had disembarked from twenty minutes ago, was still stopped at the station with a large group of men gathering around a car only two back from where I had been riding. Young boys tried to peek over the shoulders of the men and were promptly pulled back by their mothers. Intrigue drew me towards the excited, chattering crowd, but someone called my name behind me before I could get close. “Kate? Ka...

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Haunt of Dawn

Sibel Yasharoglu

Weekly Contest #347

Click, click, click. The sound doesn’t come anywhere but inside my head. It almost feels like a clock ticking, mixed with a weird rifle load, telling me the hunt will start soon. The prey is in their line of sight, and the hunters are ready to act. I’m in my bedroom, lying on the bed. Trying to erase the memories of the day. Laughter, applause, screams, begging, and pleas. The room feels suffocating, so I open the window next to my bed.The moon is nowhere to be seen; the only brightness comes from the candle in the room. It makes me uncomfor...

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You've Got The Plot

Bill Davis

Weekly Contest #347

YOU’VE GOT THE PLOT I was sitting at my desk, mostly filling out paperwork, but also wondering what I would have for dinner in approximately two hours. In other words, it was an easy, noneventful day in Morris County, Iowa. For someone in law enforcement, such days were hard to come by and much appreciated. Of course, I should have known that it wasn’t going to last. There was suddenly a quiet knock on the door and Jennifer Sundersten, my Secretary, opened the door slightly. “Sorry to bother you Sheriff Johnson,” she said, although we b...

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Illumination and Regret

Luke Marten Keller

Weekly Contest #347

We have met the ferryman before, so I wasn´t surprised to find him like this again, playing Death´s violin in the centre of his thirteen marble pillars of decay. Today we have not come before him to request his service, but in search for answers. We approached him slowly and when he spoke, the only thing showing his awareness of our presence was the slightly decreasing volume of his play. “Lucifer and Lilith. I must admit, I did not expect you to return this quickly. “His voice was toneless, yet had an unmistakable tone, like vocal cords tur...

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Your protagonist discovers they've been wrong about the most important thing in their life

Alyssa Harrison

Weekly Contest #347

Word count: 2970This story includes topics of mental health and suicide. Pulling the Thread By Alyssa Harrison Remember 91. Sadie gazed at the text message, her hands curled around a mug of hot chocolate. She pulled up the screen, but it bounced back. A lump rose in her throat and she slammed the phone down on the table in front of her. ‘Sadie?’ She looked up to find Kate watching her worriedly. ‘I’m fine,’ she snapped. She glanced across at Alex. He stared down at his hands, not saying a word. The kitchen was silent apart from the tickin...

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Among the wild reindeer moss

Heather Poppeliers

Weekly Contest #347

Trigger warnings:mental healthdeath, graphic words describing someone dying Chapter 1 As I’m sitting on my squeaky bed, the wind knocks om my wooden door; inviting me to go outside. The wind decides to be wild in this late hour; So I will join in. I hop out bed and race with it towards the sound of the crashing waves on the beach near my wooden house. My toes are planted in the sand and a salty scent lingers around me. I turn my head upwards: Billions of stars are staring me into the face. This night reminds me of my eight birthday. My ...

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Who is Masson?

Alejandra López

Weekly Contest #347

Everyone in this town knows the story of the O’bryan family. In the remote town of Whillertown, a tragedy occurred Twenty five years ago. Whillertown was a small place, the number of houses could be counted on your fingers and toes. On a mound of land, right in the middle of a lake with green waters, stood the O’bryan mansion. The family was not especially wealthy, but they had more money than anyone else in town. One early morning, flames rose over the mansion, trapping the entire family inside. According to forensic investigations, someone...

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Athena's Story

Olivia Cross

Weekly Contest #347

The weather app on her phone had lied again; it was in fact starting to rain as Athena stepped outside her office building for the first time that day. She was tired, and overwhelmed and wanted to scream into the city streets that she had had enough of her pointless job that she worked for years to get. The rain fit her mood perfectly.She slung her beige trench coat over her head and was absorbed into the 5:30pm crowd where she was swept across the street and eventually fell into her favorite corner book shop four blocks down, drenched. At l...

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