Mystery Writing Prompts

I watch as the coffin lowers into the ground.

It’s raining and crowded.

Someone is speaking about him. His legacy. The good he did in the world.

People are crying.

I’m not.

If they knew what I knew, they wouldn’t be either.

He’s finally in the ground.

Seven years and he’s finally in the ground.

It only took a heart attack.

I don’t buy it.

I need to know for sure.

It’s getting...

When he’d say to me, ‘I’m not ready to die yet’, I’d just smile. Nervously - what can you say to that?

My mind would go to the water, I can picture myself standing there, still like a sheet of glass, shimmering a little in the sunlight.

With a pensive watching, I’d feel the wash of the breeze on my arms, a light tickling and repress the urge to laugh, or maybe to shudder.

The present hangs on ...

Archeologists have made a breaking discovery in Turkey’s ancient musical history: the lur.

The lur is believed to be an instrument denoted primarily to funerary settings, as it was unearthed in the site of an ancient morgue— however, interestingly enough, similar artifacts have been found in courthouses and prisons, only they are made out of steel instead of wood.

The lur is a heavy seven-string...

Slowly, carefully, Hector walks along the narrow path, leading his horse Carrot behind him. Originally he was riding her, but when the mist started, Carrot stopped and he couldn‘t get her to continue no matter what he tried. Something about the mist must scare her. Only by walking in front, pulling her on the lead, and offering her a piece of carrot, her favorite snack, was he able to trick her in...

No grave can hold my body down; I'll crawl home to her.

Her dark beauty renders the lifeless living and relentless in their worship with a warm kiss to their cheek, a whisper to their ear, and a breath to their lips. 'Twas my fate to her.

The earth was freshly turned my barrow over when she glided in through the churchyard, her draping muslin and vines befalling grave between grave. Her hands ...

A cat, a goat, and a girl walk down the hill, their footfalls synced, their breath aligned. Bound by the strength of the night, the strength of the stars, the strength of _dark, _they do not part. _Cannot _part. Down, down, down, until they’ve reached the very foot of the hill, right on the edge of the forest.

“Even the most powerful and precious of bonds has to break, sometime, right?” Fondly...

For the first time in a long time, I dreaded going to work. Not because work was terrible, but because she would be there. She was Viktoria Meir.

Viktoria Meir was queen bee in all she did. From the day she learned to form coherent sentences, she had the world wrapped around her little finger. Her peers willfully did her bidding and flocked to her to grasp at any loose strings of attention – a...

In the realm of the written word, there lies

A powerful entity, which holds the keys

To unlock the hidden treasures of the soul

And reveal the truths that lie within us all

I am the poet, the weaver of words

I craft my verses with care and ardor

Through the ink and the paper, my thoughts unfurl

And my heart's deepest emotions are laid bare

With each line, I strive to capture the essence

...

• November 1st, whatever year it is

I woke up in the middle of the road again, my head resting against the asphalt as if it were my mother’s legs. This time, there wasn’t a second before I realized I was terribly alone. And that it was still the end of the world. And that I could do nothing to fix it.

Sometime in the 2nd grade, my teacher told us to throw away all of our broken crayons and I as...

Matilda crouched to get a closer look at the scene in front of her. She was careful not to disturb anything on the dirt floor, hopefully leaving only bootprints. Hopper, her gremlin, climbed out of the leather satchel at her side and perched on her shoulder. He took a deep inhale through his nose.

“Poison,” he murmured in her ear.

She nodded, noticing the sickly sweet scent in the air. Her eyes ...

The final embers of the setting sun took cover behind dense clouds, dispelling a grey veil across the horizon, erasing any remnants of colour and warmth. Waves lapped voraciously at a modest, wooden vessel as though the navy depths were famished. And although the hours progressed, her hunger never ceased. Each swell ascended, leaping into the airs embrace, then proceeded to crash back into abyss, ...