Thriller Writing Prompts

Mom's hair used to be strawberry blonde. The sort of blonde you would only see on American bombshells at the bar.

But mom was nothing like a bar-goer in her manner. On the contrary, she was a gentle caretaker of two kids, that would choose sunbathing on a midsummer's beach over intoxication any day. Her skin was painted a pale, ethereal gold from her days spent by the sea, and bright specks of c...

“Oh that’s so cute..!” I munch on a fry. “And a little cheesy.”

He chuckles, a playful glint in his eye. He scrolled though his phone, looking for his cute date photos. “They usually like it.”

“I’m sure. Do they get to take one too?” I asked.

“Yeah, sometimes. Oh here they are!” He turns the phone towards me. The photo is of him and a pretty brunette in some night club. He swipes, to another wit...

Jordan had always hated the flickering streetlight outside their house. It buzzed like a dying insect, and its erratic blinking cast unsettling shadows in their living room. Night after night, the light would stutter, as though it were gasping for attention, and night after night, Jordan cursed it under their breath.

One particularly sleepless evening, armed with a mug of cooling coffee and too m...

It was considered unholy.

The reprimand we would receive for this would be earth shattering. We were going to suffer for this.

I don’t even know what we were thinking. You don’t think when you’re a kid.

We were all just way too hyper. The view of the city, the soft dusk signalling the first shadows of the night. And we all figured, well…why not?

No one would know anyway.

But now, sitting in f...

“Everything I do… I do it for YOU!”

“Please, Adrian… Please, just- just put the knife down!”

Every time she took a step back, he took one step forward.

“But I love you, Cammy… I love you, why won’t you believe me?” His tone was calm, but his eyes were crazy, and the sweat that had been gathering at his hairline was beginning to slowly trickle down his face.

It was getting dark outside, but the...

Sophie did not like working with thieves, they were sticky fingered, conniving, backstabbing lunatics who only looked out for themselves. Upon telling people this she was often met with weird stares — after all she was a thief herself. However, she was also a thief low down in the criminal food chain and therefore had no control over who she worked with when her boss dictated that she must take so...

As I staggered through the rusted gate, the air was like a blade, slicing through the remnants of my composure. The path, a tortuous route through an overgrown nightmare, seemed to feed on my despair, each thorn a sharp reminder of my jagged thoughts.

The garden, once a haven, now mirrored the desolation in my soul, a place where hope had withered into sorrow. My heart pounded, not in rhythm, but...

Night falls.

Diana sits on the couch. She watches TV. She throws a piece of popcorn in her mouth and chews it slowly. She looks happy, relaxed, and content. She looks vulnerable.

I hear a loud sound in another part of the house.

Diana jumps, and I know that she heard it too.

“What if it’s a monster?” I ask.

Diana looks back at the TV. “Maybe it is,” she says, “and maybe it isn’t.”

“But what,...