MYSTERY/THRILLER WRITING PROMPTS

A RESTLEss NIGHT

 It was a restless night. 

While all the world was sleeping, I lie awake. 

A wolf howls at the moon.

 He’s found me. 

He knows where I am. 

In this moment, I know one thing is for certain. It’s him or it’s me. 

There’s no other way.

uNKNOWN CALLER

 There’s a storm raging outside. 

Your power goes out.

 Your phone rings. 

It’s an unknown caller. 

You answer, “Hello?” 

All you hear is heavy breathing.

A DOLL

 There’s a knock at your front door. 

You open it. 

Nobody is there, but there’s a tattered porcelain doll lying on your mat. 

You leave it there and close your door.

 Just as you are about to go upstairs, you hear, “BANG, BANG, BANG!”

You go back to the door and once again, no one is there. 

The doll no longer lies on the mat, but sits upright like a proper little lady. 

You grab the doll, slam your door, and chuck the doll in your kitchen trash can. 

You go upstairs to brush your teeth. 

When you return to the kitchen the doll sits up on your kitchen counter. 

Its large, unsettling blue eyes stare directly at you.

FLAMMABLE

 He locks you in your room again. 

But this time he forgot something. 

This time, he is sloppy.

 This time, he leaves you a weapon. 

You pick up the lighter that fell from his jacket. 

You go to the bathroom.

 You reach down underneath the sink cabinet and grab the hairspray. 

You read the warning label — DANGER: EXTREMELY FLAMMABLE. 

You patiently wait for his return.

CORN

 Your car stalls on an one lane road, in the middle of a cornfield. 

Your cell phone dies just as you try to make a call. 

You exit the car. 

You hop on top of the hood to see further down the road. 

Nothing.

 Corn for miles and miles. 

You choose a direction and start walking.

 The scorching sun beats its rays down on you. 

You hear something scuttle on the ground behind you. 

When you turn around, there’s a disheveled, dirty old man in a wheelchair. 

He says, “He has chosen you to be our offering.”

DANCE

 Everything fades away on the dance floor. 

Everyone disappears.

 My problems are no match for the melody. 

But tonight, one man stands apart from the crowd. 

His face is like poetry – Breathtaking. 

His eyes are golden brown. Smoldering. Magnetic. Dangerous. 

He walks towards me. 

He takes my hand in his. 

His skin is ice cold, but my body is aflame.

 Our bodies sway to the rhythm. 

He whispers in my ear. 

The sound of his voice reverberates down my spine. 

He says, “Should you like the dance to go on forever?” 

Something sharp scrapes against my ear.

 I tremble.

THE MOON

 I wake lying on the ground in the woods. 

There’s blood on my clothes.  

There’s blood on my hands, still warm. 

There’s blood in my mouth. 

No. Not again. 

I look up at the garish light in the sky — a full moon. 

It mocks me.

 A woman’s panicked yell echos in the distance. “Gary! Where are you?” 

I run in the opposite direction.

DARK MAGIC

 A sulfurous fog descends on me like a lazy cloud. 

The cemetery reeks of dark magic. 

He’s finally done it. 

He’s unleashed hell upon us. 

Groans sound from all around me, but I can’t see a thing. 

Something grabs ahold of my ankle and I come crashing down, face forward onto the wet soil. 

The smell hits me first, like a bucket of roadkill drowned in sewage.

 A man with peeling, oozing skin crawls towards my face.

 His rotted teeth chomp, as if desperate for a piece of me.

ICE

Splash!

Every muscle in her body went rigid as the shock of the freezing water engulfed her.

She tried to scream, but her head was under water. 

Freezing water snaked its way down her throat, down her lungs.

Her panicked brain did its best to remind her to swim.

Her arms flapped and her legs kicks to no avail.

She made one final attempt before exhaustion took her. 

She swam with all the strength she could muster. 

She finally lifted up, breaching the surface.

But, soon she felt as if she weighed 400 lbs. 

Exhaustion took her. 

She sank further down. 

She thought, will my parents be able to pencil in my funeral?

secrets

Your bedroom is pitch dark.

 It’s chilly, yet you’re drenched in sweat. 

You hear a child’s giggle.

 You jump to turn on the nightstand lamp, but you knock it over.

The child giggles again. 

It says, “How clumsy you are.”

You scream.

Your husband comes into the room and flicks on the light.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

You get up to search the closet, bathroom, and underneath the bed. No one is there.

You tell your husband, “Just a nightmare. S-sorry.”

He turns out the lights and closes the door behind him.

The child says,”Husband has secrets, secrets I can share… for a price.”