The 7 Elements of a Mystery


The 7 Elements of a Mystery


The 7 Elements of a Mystery

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A mystery is any story that has an element of the unknown. Mysteries are usually about something strange or unexplainable happening, which can be either on an individual level (a missing person), on a small group level (a kidnapping), or on a large scale (an epidemic).

A mystery always requires investigation by someone who knows more than others, so there is no single narrator and all the characters know more than each other. It should also never be explained at the end, but leave you guessing until it’s solved at the very last second.

In some cases, mysteries are used to tell stories based around real people; this could be as simple as an unsolved murder case or as complex as a serial killer being revealed at the end.

***

“You got a minute?” She asked from where she leaned against the doorway, her long hair falling in her eyes, which were already half-shut and red with exhaustion.

I glanced at my watch. “Sure,” I said simply, not meeting her eyes.

She was sitting in one of the chairs next to the window, which looked out over the street below. Her feet were propped up on another chair that was placed directly beside hers. The only light came from the lamp on the table between us, which shone down over both our faces, leaving everything else dark.

Her head tilted slightly to the side when I didn’t answer right away. “What happened?”

My heart began to race faster. This wasn’t like her. Normally she would never show such concern for me. She knew how much I hated feeling helpless, even if I wasn’t. So why now? “Uh…nothing really,” I said lightly.

It had been three days since I had last seen anything strange happen in any of the towns we visited. But still, every day brought new fears and worries with it. There was no telling what might suddenly happen today. “Why?”

“Are you okay? You look awful.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I mean, maybe I’m just tired myself…”

It was true that she did look tired. She normally dressed up and wore a smile, but her face was unguarded tonight, as though it was the first time anyone besides me had ever seen her without makeup on. My gaze lingered on those pale cheeks, those full lips that were slightly parted, and then her eyes.

They were the same color as mine, except hers weren’t quite so wide apart, and they seemed to glow with the fire of a dying candle. They held mine fast with their spell of enchantment, like a moth flying to flame, unable to escape until the moment it finally burns itself to death.

We were silent again, both of us looking down at our shoes, lost in our thoughts. I tried to find something to say, but nothing came to mind. Finally, I spoke: “I don’t feel well, actually. Do you think I’ll be able to go through with my shift tomorrow?”

My words caused her to glance up at me quickly. “Of course, you will! What, do you have a fever?” She stood, walking towards me with quick steps. At this point, I was too startled to stop her. “Here…” She pulled my hand off the armrest so she could place hers on top of mine. “This will help.” And she pushed herself into my chest, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me close until our heads touched together.

I struggled to get free. “What are you doing?”

She pulled back, peering up at me with her big dark eyes. “Giving you an antidote.”

And before I realized what was happening, she reached for the bottom edge of her shirt and lifted it above her stomach so I could see it was empty. She was wearing a black bra, which left two deep valleys in the middle of her cleavage and the skin underneath it exposed.

“Hey!” I shouted.

But instead of letting go of me, she pressed her body against me once more and grabbed my hands. “I’m sorry, it’s just…this is important. You need to believe me.”

“Believe what?! That you’re going to murder me?!” I yelled. I shook my head in disbelief, trying to break free from her grip. “Who are you working for? Who gave you this order?”

“There’s a man who lives nearby,” she whispered in my ear, making me shiver despite myself. “He has the cure.”

I pulled back sharply, breaking away from her hold. I couldn’t let her touch me like that anymore, not after all she had done to me already. “How do you know he doesn’t just poison you and make sure there’s enough left for him?”

“Because he told me so.” Her voice dropped lower and became huskier than usual. “He wants his daughter back, and I want revenge.”

“Revenge on whom? Me? Him? Your father? What does he care about your sister? Why is he so interested in me?” I demanded harshly, my voice echoing throughout the room. I had always thought I had been careful about concealing our relationship behind a veil of secrecy, but apparently, that hadn’t been enough.

The corners of her mouth curled up slightly. “That’s why I’ve been so nice to you lately.” She stepped closer again, pressing her body against mine. “If the people around here found out about me…well…” She trailed off, her breath hot against my neck. “You understand what I mean, don’t you?”

She kissed me gently on the lips, sending waves of desire through me. For a second I felt myself sway into the kiss, forgetting everything that had happened so far.

Then I broke away from her again. “Let go of me,” I muttered in defeat. “Get the hell out of here.”

But instead of listening to me, she moved her hands around so they were holding my wrists instead. Now it was my turn to struggle, trying desperately to get away from her grasp while keeping a firm hold of her hands with mine.

But her grip was too strong. Soon we were both struggling on the floor, pushing and tugging against each other, like a pair of snakes in mating season. I managed to pull myself free of her grip when I rolled onto my side and got on top of her, using her own weight to push her down.

I pinned her down to the carpet, and we lay there like that for some time, neither one saying anything. Finally, she raised her head and looked at me with a strange expression: sad, yet somehow satisfied, as if she’d accomplished something. Then her face changed, becoming hard, and she glared up at me with a look of hatred. She bit down hard on her lip, then reached forward with both hands and grabbed my face with them.

I screamed and buckled under her force. In response, she leaned closer to me, kissing me even harder now and pressing her body firmly against mine. She ground her hips against mine, driving me wild with desire and making my brain scream to escape and flee before it was too late.

I tried to twist my body and roll away from her, but she kept hold of me and refused to move. Instead, she pulled her lips away from mine and pressed her forehead against mine instead, staring into my eyes.

She said nothing but simply held onto my face like that, breathing heavily and staring deeply into my eyes. We remained like this for several minutes, until finally I couldn’t stand it anymore and broke eye contact with her. “Stop it, damn it!” I shouted in anger, pulling away from her and sitting up straight.

We were both still panting and our chests were heaving, like a pair of wild animals. My heart was thumping loudly in my ears and I felt dizzy and sick to my stomach from the combination of desire and terror. I wanted to be angry with her for putting me through all that pain and agony.

But in spite of the fact that my brain told me that what she’d just done was wrong, another part of me craved her touch once again. Maybe because I needed someone to love me and show affection or maybe simply because she did it so well.

In either case, it didn’t matter anymore. I turned around on the floor and faced the wall, unable to stop shaking. I could hear her footsteps as she walked over to the sofa opposite where we’d been lying, and I heard her sit down and take a deep breath.

I stayed like that for a few minutes, thinking over what I should do next. But eventually, I got up from the floor and went to the door, opening it.

As soon as the first rays of sunlight came flooding into the room, I realized something was wrong. All of the windows were gone. Not one single pane was left undamaged. They had all been destroyed by some sort of fire.

I looked up in disbelief: not even a single broken windowpane. It was completely black inside the house. Even though it was only morning, the room seemed darker than ever.

I looked across the hall to my brother’s bedroom. The door was closed and the mattress on the bed was turned back toward me as if he had been sleeping in it. So much for him not wanting to be near me, I thought. He must have been hiding somewhere else during the night and come into the room when I slept in his bed.

He hadn’t even bothered to wake me up.

My heart was pounding hard enough now that I could feel it throbbing in my chest. A cold sweat ran down my back, and I could no longer stop the shakes. I took a step back, then another one, but before I knew it I was stumbling through the doorway and into his room.

It smelled like cigarette smoke in there, despite the lack of a working ventilation system. And the smell was stronger on his bed, which was piled high with clothes and dirty socks. I looked around a little more, hoping to find him hiding in one of them. There wasn’t any place, in particular, he might be hiding, but he was probably in one of those piles of clothes.

The sound of his cell phone ringing from the desk made me freeze and look around again. That’s why it sounded so loud—because it was right underneath the computer monitor, and the fan in the computer was sucking air through the open vent on top of the desk.

I bent down and picked up the handset. The display showed a number I didn’t recognize. I brought the mouthpiece up to my ear and pressed the button for answering calls.

“Hello?” I said quietly, trying not to disturb anyone who might be sleeping nearby.

“Hey, man,” came the voice of a man, sounding far too cheery for such an early hour. “How are you doing? Long time no see.”

I stood there dumbfounded for a moment. “Um… hello?” I replied, my head still swimming from the shock. The caller on the other end continued talking, unaware of my confusion. “I’m calling about this party tonight. Can I get your address and directions? It’ll save us all a lot of time later if we can just meet at the same place.”

I stared blankly at the receiver for a second or two before snapping out of my daze. Then I grabbed the phone from my ear and slammed it shut in frustration, dropping it on the desk and letting it clatter loudly against the keyboard.

A few seconds later, the phone started to ring again, making me jump.

“Who is it now?!” I shouted. It rang a third time.

“Hello?” I said again, a little louder this time, when there was no answer. This time when I picked up the phone, I found that it was still ringing.

I looked down at the display, noticing something strange for the first time. There were three missed calls in addition to the one from whom I’d been speaking moments ago. Each one was a different number, and they weren’t displayed correctly because of the way my phone was set up. But each one was displaying a red dot instead of showing a number.

I put the phone in my pocket and hurried back to my own room. When I sat down on the floor, the telephone rang yet again. My hand instinctively shot out to grab the handset again. Once again, the display showed a number I couldn’t read; however, it also showed five new messages waiting for me.

As soon as I opened my mailbox, another message started playing, and my eyes went wide. I listened as carefully as I could without waking anybody else up.

***

“What are you doing here?” I asked, looking over at him as he came down the stairs. I noticed he was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, but he’d changed his hairstyle overnight. He had cut off most of it to make what looked like bangs, and it was hanging straight down from his forehead like a pair of thick curtains.

Even though there were only a couple of streaks left, it made quite a contrast with the rest of his hair, which was shaved close to his scalp.

I tried not to let him notice that I was staring at his hair since I was certain he would know just how curious I was about where he’d gotten it. I didn’t really care what he did with his own personal appearance, but I was concerned for his safety if people were seeing him with that much-exposed skin.

As usual, he gave no indication he’d heard anything I’d said. Instead, he kept walking, heading toward the front door. “I’ve got to go somewhere,” he said, stopping next to the refrigerator and rummaging through the freezer. “See you around.”

Then he pulled out a box of frozen burritos, popped the plastic lid free, and stuffed several into his jacket pockets.

“Wait, where are you going?” I demanded, grabbing the box and shaking it. “You’re not leaving already? We haven’t even eaten breakfast yet!”

He turned around, holding the box out in front of him. “No need. These are for everybody.”

“But you don’t want them,” I objected, taking the box away from him and putting it back in the fridge. I watched as he walked down the hall and disappeared around the corner. I took a closer look at the box of burritos and frowned. They weren’t just for him, they were for everyone else—for all of us.

I’d seen enough movies to understand exactly what kind of food poisoning he’d be risking by eating that stuff. I wondered if he knew how bad it could get, considering how ill-prepared we were in the event of an outbreak.

I glanced down at the phone and saw that there were five more new messages waiting for me. All of them were marked urgent and flashed red dots on the screen. The first message had been from last night.

***

“Listen, man, we need to talk. Meet me at the old hospital tonight. There are some things you should know…”

I scrolled further down, then clicked play on the message. It was short but sweet.

***

“Hey, you there?” His voice was muffled in the static of the connection.

“…just listen for a second.” Another pause, then a sigh, followed by a long exhale.

“…you can’t help them. You’re too late—”

The call ended abruptly. A single line of text appeared in front of me: “Message ends here.”

That was it. No more words or clues, and certainly no more direction.

It wasn’t clear how much time had passed, but I decided it was better to leave than to hang around any longer. The rest of the family was still sound asleep upstairs, and I knew it wouldn’t do anyone any good to wake them up.

So I gathered up all of the burritos and threw them into my duffel bag (which I’d brought along in case I needed to grab a quick snack), then headed downstairs to the living room.

The phone was sitting right where I’d placed it before leaving. I picked it up to turn it off and see who was calling when suddenly one more message started playing.

The End

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