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Red Ink Presents: Murder Mysteries
Red Ink Presents: Murder Mysteries
Red Ink Presents: Murder Mysteries
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Red Ink Presents: Murder Mysteries

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Welcome to The Murder Mystery Collection, presented by Red Ink Publications. The titles below are a compilation of short horror stories that should last all spooky season long.

Firstly, there is the Hotel of Horrors by Aminah Iman

In the beginning, there was darkness, then came the land, and lastly, there was man. The darkness, the hunger, knew the man as soon as his feet touched the ground. The man craved the darkness before he realized what it was. The chance encounter was more horrific, more fulfilling than either could ever imagine. See what happens when the darkness takes shape in a Hotel of Horrors with H.H Holmes taking reservations. But remember...theres always a price

 

Next, there is From Hell by Omega

Jacqueline, a devoted wife to a noble lawyer, sister to Scotland Yards lead Detective, and a nurse to White Chapel Hospital, was once thought to have it all. A wonderful job, an even better husband, and a baby on the way. That was until she lost it. After miscarriages and her failed marriage, she learned her husband's mistress, a prostitute, was about to gain it all. This propels Jacqueline's downwards spiral to becoming The Ripper. Jack the Ripper to be exact. In From Hell by Omega, follow Jaqueline's journey as it continues down the blood road of no return.

 

Lastly, there is Brush Stroke by Jaqueline Stone

The pen has always been mightier than the sword. But somewhere down the line the two merged and blood never looked so much like ink. Journey with Dylan Grey into a world that's everything but black and white.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateOct 31, 2020
ISBN9781393834847
Red Ink Presents: Murder Mysteries

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    Red Ink Presents - Red Ink Publications

    Hotel of Horrors

    Prologue

    It had been around since the beginning of time. Darkness, hunger, emptiness, the lack of. Every hundred years It woke to feed, to manipulate, to destroy.  That was satisfying, yes, but It wanted more. It wanted to see, to feel, to eat. Could land itself be evil, be haunted? Could a part of the Earth be so tainted that it could cause a soul to kill? Yes. This land could. This beautiful stretch of green, with its single pitch black center, did. Not a single tree bloomed there, not a bush or shrub blossomed. Birds did not fly around, nor insect scurry across its dirt. It laid dormant for souls, for something to accept the gift it offered. What was the cause, what happened in the beginning of time that made this particular piece of dirt and grass crave destruction? The answer was not important, what was important was finding the souls to do its bidding.

    Getting the weak, the hungry to do Its bidding was easy. Every generation there was one who wanted Its power to convince them that the darkness they felt was justified. That their thirst to kill was proper. It gave them the go ahead, the confidence to carry out the gruesome killings they were too afraid to carry out on their own. And in return It got to consume. For a long while that was enough, but not anymore. Those of faith called It evil, but what was evil? Evil, in Its opinion, was simply the misunderstanding of darkness.

    In 1693 it was the savage carnage of the wedding that took place on Its land. The father and tribal leader of one tribe hated the fact that his daughter had to marry the king of the neighboring tribe. His precious princess would be taken from him in the name of peace. He could not, would not stand for that. So on the wedding day, the tribal leader spoke to the darkness, pleaded with it to give him the strength to carry out the massacre of the neighboring tribe not realizing the cost was his soul and the souls of his tribe.

    There was always a price.

    In 1793 it was the colonialists. After stealing, raping, and killing the natives the colonists were dying. They could not maintain the land, they could not acclimate to their surroundings. So the one who was weak and power hungry prayed to the darkness. Begged for a solution to keep his people alive. The darkness answered. The leader had to feed the darkness, to kill more, to sacrifice. The weak colonist abided. He murdered natives, selected members of his colony, and eventually his wife.

    There was always a price.

    In 1893 it was H.H. Holmes. He was already a murderer. He already knew the darkness inside of himself, but he wanted more. He wanted to be able to kill continuously without interruption, without having to move from place to place. Holmes had a plan, to build a hotel in order to carry out his murders. Build a place that would allow him to live out his darkest fantasies in private. And the darkness said yes.

    Chapter One

    From the moment Holmes stepped on the land they both knew. The man and the darkness in agreement. He could feel the evil, the empty, the hunger. It was home.

    How soon can we start construction? Holmes asked.

    As soon the deposit is paid Sir. Sterling answered.

    'Yes, soon... Now.' The darkness answered back.

    I have a few transactions to make, let us meet here in two days’ time.

    You aiming to be finished by the opening of The World’s Fair? Sterling questioned. His perfectly combed hair fitting neatly under his top hat.

    Yes, the fair. Of course. Holmes rocked back and forth. His left hand jingling the pennies in his pocket, his right hand gripped his cane tighter.

    The feeling of the darkness crept into his body like silk, the hunger igniting his own like a match to kerosine. How perfect a match.

    The darkness felt the kinship, the unity, the madness. It had been stagnant for too long, emptiness its only companion. To find a soul so dark was right, fitting. To ’see’ from someone so sinister was kismet. The torture they could do together, the fear and pain and terror they could accomplish as one. Construction would start soon. The building would have to be done just so. A hotel of horrors would rise and with it, the darkness would win.

    'Come back to me Sir, at dusk return. We have much planning to do.' The darkness instructed.

    Yes, this night. Holmes eagerly tapped his cane.

    Tonight, I thought you said two days’ time. Sterling scratched his chin.

    What? Yes, two days.

    If you don't mind me asking, what are building here?

    The greatest hotel man has ever seen. Holmes responded.

    Holmes left the darkness reluctantly. He wanted, needed, to be

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