150+ Best Thriller Short Stories to Read Online for Free - Reedsy Prompts

Officer of Fang Street

Submitted to Contest #335

On a cold Thursday night, a couple was walking on a windy night in a city named Nightmarsh. They were laughing and talking about a movie they had just seen and seemed to be having a good time. As they walked across the quiet neighborhoods of the city, they suddenly saw a dog barking. The man went to check on the dog as the dog seemed to be in distress. When the man approached the dog, he looked across the corner on Fang Street to see what the dog was barking at. When he finally got a good look at what it was, he jumped in surprise and horror...

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EmoSpecs Participant No. 3

J G Ingalls

Submitted to Contest #335

This story contains instances of physical violence and a fictional treatment of mental health issues. “Congratulations! You’ve been chosen to participate in a revolutionary new approach to security. Are you still unemployed?” “Yes,” I responded to the caller. “Great. We would need you four nights a week, six hours a night, guarding our lab. Salary is ten thousand a month. You’d be standing in the street so you would have to dress warmly.” I accepted. Life had been dull and I needed stimulation. Actually, that was an understatement. I ...

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The Archangel

Chuck Thompson

Submitted to Contest #335

“Who are you?” Taken aback by the stranger in my shared office, I was a bit brusque.“I’m Lily Smith; you must be John Smith. I started last week while you were still in Bali. I guess we’re office mates. I’m looking forward to working with you; I’m sure you’ll like my ways. I heard about you before I even came here.”“Cool! Funny, no relation, I’m sure. I didn’t mean to sound rude; I was just surprised. I’ve been in this office by myself for a few months and didn’t expect anyone. And thanks.“So, how are you? How’s the job so far? And...

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Don't Blink

Rudolph Dunne

Submitted to Contest #335

“You look empty.” “Sorry?” “You look empty,” she said, gesturing to my cup with the pot of coffee in her hand. “Oh, yeah, I’d love some more. Thanks,” I said. There was a plate in front of me, sitting on a scratched linoleum table, heavy with a healthy serving of bacon and scrambled eggs. Scrambled eggs? I hate scrambled eggs. I looked up from the plate and saw that I was under the humming fluorescent lights of a greasy diner, in a booth up against a window. The window looked out over an empty street. There were no people, no cars, no moveme...

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i gotta tell yeah

Macleay Lindsay

Submitted to Contest #336

I gotta tell yeah ‘Listen, I gotta tell yah my story, how it actually happened. Well, to start at the beginning, which I’m told is a good place to start, Louie says, ‘Is the food good here?’‘I said, “yeah, it's good, mainly pizzas … but there’s a better place around the corner- Mario’s, looks like a pizzeria, but there’s a private room at the back where you get the really good stuff, like real authentic.’‘He says: ‘Great, let go’, and that’s how we ended up at the scene of the crime, bit like the bit in Godfather, the bit, I think in number...

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Hobbling Along

Liam Crossey

Submitted to Contest #335

Snooze.Over and over and again, he pressed down on the snooze button. The couch wasn’t comfortable. For only a few hours, his face was pressed against the green cushions, emerald string intertwined with scarlet. But just being able to lay out his back after a long night of drinking was good enough for Geoff.A series of aggressive vibrations rang out from his phone. He pushed off the couch. Dim rays of sun broke through the white, vertical blinds that hung on the sliding glass door. A glance down at the floor allowed Geoff to breathe a sigh o...

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Thirty-seven

Emily Beckett

Submitted to Contest #336

Content warning: violence, sexual assault, psychological trauma. Thirty-seven days and thirty-eight tormenting nights have passed. I didn’t live through the days, only counted them—why, I don’t even know. Daylight went faster in the waking haze I’ve existed in for thirty-seven days. But when night comes, the lights go out, the noise dies, and in the silence of my soul the words return, echoing; my closed eyes see everything—red blood, green eyes, a white top, blonde hair matted with blood, a thick crimson pool on the floor before the white l...

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The Gift of Choice

Scott MacLeod

Submitted to Contest #335

A small brown box sits on my front porch, conspicuous in its conservative covering; a speck of dismal dust before a polished pearl. No name or address adorns its face, forcing me to question its intended recipient.Curiosity compels me to scoop it up and carry it inside, balancing books and the bags hanging from my fishhook fingers, cutting into the seams of my bloodless joints. Everything is eventually put in its proper place inside, with the parcel placed on the silvery-gray surface of my teakwood table.I locate scissors in a disheveled dra...

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Between the Beeps

Scott Smith

Submitted to Contest #335

The first snow of winter falls softly against the outer cabin walls, a feeling I’ve come to recognize with both comfort and a touch of uneasiness that feels almost unnatural. Inside, the air smells of old pine and cold ash, and I move through the now darkened room by memory alone - building a fire, taking inventory of my supplies and listening to the forest settle into silence. Through the window, the dusk blurs the trees together into shades of grey, as if the world has decided simply to pause as it waits for something inevitable. I chose t...

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Silent Night

Emiley Bryan

Submitted to Contest #335

Silent Night Emma awoke with a start, hot and in the dark. Her mouth is dry, and there’s an ache in her neck. Her heart is racing. She tries to sit up, but something moves with her, blocking her. It feels like plastic and makes a crinkling sound when she stretches her arms out. She tries to find a way to escape whatever has her trapped, but she can’t find an opening. Underneath her, the surface is flat and hard. There’s a gentle hum and swaying, like riding in car. Her brain is foggy. She strains her memory trying to recall what happened. ...

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I Didn’t Lose My Humanity, I Traded It

Karen Bell

Submitted to Contest #335

Aries learned two important things in the past two years. One: being a werewolf did not come with an instruction manual, a union, or paid sick leave. Two: people at work definitely noticed when you showed up on a Monday morning with bruises shaped like claw marks and claimed you “fell down the stairs.” Again. She stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror at the office, tugging the sleeve of her blazer down over a purple bruise blooming along her forearm. It throbbed faintly, a reminder of last night’s vigilante patrol that went sideway...

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Domesticity

Jennilee Tangpuz

Submitted to Contest #335

She’s washing the dishes in the kitchenette. There aren’t that many to clean, but she’s in her “space out” mode that she sometimes gets into, staring at nothing, her hands sudsing the same plate over and over again.I sit down quietly. I try to make my voice gentle when I say, “Hey,” but she still jumps, dropping the plastic plate in the sink.“Shit,” she mumbles, turning off the faucet. “You scared me.”I flinch. “Sorry.” I wait a moment, staring at her rigid back. Her hair is up in a tangled knot. From where I sit, I can see the harsh jut of ...

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We All Were, Ethan

Lehkani Namah

Submitted to Contest #335

CW: Physical violence, suicide, sexual content “Ethan, your mask.”Clara appeared at my elbow, holding up the black silk thing I had tossed onto the limo seat. I let her tie it around my head like a child getting ready for Halloween. Her fingers were cold on my neck. A sharp pain in my chest muscles made me wince. Gym injury no doubt.The Prometheus Club looked too grand to be in the middle of the city, its marble columns rising three stories tall as if they’d airdropped the Parthenon into the middle of 8th Street. Golden capitals caught the l...

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The Bridge

Bob Bialik

Submitted to Contest #335

It was a beautiful warm summer day, blue skies and a soft breeze blowing. We were heading towards the old wooden bridge that led to the island. It was a small island with a perfect beach that went around the backside where it was private and clean. There was going to be a party on the island. As we came over the hill and looked down at the shoreline, we could see the bridge. There was something unusual going on. We could see people on the bridge. Lots of people. We continued down to the bridge to see what was going on.When we got to the brid...

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No Good at Loving You

Daniel R. Hayes

Submitted to Contest #335

(CW: Graphic violence, Murder, Language, Crude humor, sexual content.) Dear Jess, I’ll never forget the text message you sent me a few days ago, saying simply, I have feelings for someone else. We’re done! When I read those words, I had no idea how much it would profoundly change my life. The warmth of knowing your love meant everything to me. It was like a thousand suns. Now, there is nothing but cold darkness. I gave you all I had and still fell short. All this emotional wreckage might be the end of me yet. How can I find the words that l...

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Discover weekly, the best short stories

150+ Thriller Short Stories to read

Thriller Short Stories – Page 2 of 10

Officer of Fang Street

EmoSpecs Participant No. 3

The Archangel

Don't Blink

i gotta tell yeah

Hobbling Along

Thirty-seven

The Gift of Choice

Between the Beeps

Silent Night

I Didn’t Lose My Humanity, I Traded It

Domesticity

We All Were, Ethan

The Bridge

No Good at Loving You