Story Book 9

The Killer Under the Table

The dimly lit restaurant hummed with chatter, the scent of grilled meat and aged wine hanging thick in the air. Waiters weaved between tables, balancing trays with an artful precision, while customers laughed over candlelight. No one noticed the man sitting alone at the corner booth, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the table's polished surface. He was watching. Waiting.

The Poisonous Ink

The rain poured relentlessly over the cobbled streets of Blackwood, a city where secrets festered in the shadows. Inspector Nathan Caldwell tugged his coat tighter around himself, his sharp eyes scanning the entrance of the old publishing house, Whitmore & Sons. He had been called here for something unusual-a death that defied logical explanation.

Page number 142

The air in the dimly lit study was thick with the scent of old books and ink. A single candle flickered on the large mahogany desk, casting eerie shadows along the walls. Detective Adrian Monroe adjusted his coat as he scanned the room. On the desk, there was an open book, its pages filled with delicate, looping handwriting. Page number 142 had been torn out.

Car No. 222

Detective Ryan Carter stood on the cold asphalt of the underground parking lot, his gaze fixed on the abandoned sedan in front of him. Car No. 222. The missing vehicle that had vanished without a trace five days ago had suddenly reappeared-along with a dead body in the trunk.

Ghost Orange Bunglow

The wind howled through the trees as Detective Adrian Cole approached the infamous Orange Bungalow. The once-majestic house stood in eerie silence, its walls shrouded in ivy and mystery. Locals whispered tales of a ghostly presence lurking within, but Adrian wasn't one to believe in the supernatural. He was here for answers.

The Red Bubble

Detective Samuel Grayson stared at the crimson-tinted envelope resting on his desk. The words "The Red Bubble" were scrawled in an elegant yet ominous script across the front. No sender. No return address. Just a mystery wrapped in a thin veil of blood-red paper.