Muhammad Mehran
Stories (237)
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The Last Witness
M Mehran Rain fell in needles the night Detective Mara Vance realized she was being followed. She’d left the precinct after midnight, the kind of exhausted where the world felt underwater. The Rosen Case—a convenience-store robbery gone brutal—had dragged the department for weeks. A clerk dead, a missing witness, and a blurry security tape that showed a man with a serpent tattoo along his wrist. That was it. No face. No prints. No breaks.
By Muhammad Mehran3 months ago in Criminal
The Girl in the Green Hoodie
M Mehran The storm hit Silverbridge just after midnight—sheets of rain hammering pavement, lightning flashing over the empty streets like camera shutters capturing crimes no one had yet committed. Detective Jalen Cross preferred nights like this. Bad weather made criminals sloppy.
By Muhammad Mehran3 months ago in Criminal
The Last Confession
M Mehran Detective Mara Vance had learned two unshakable truths in her twenty years with the Harbor City Police Department: people lie, and guilt never sleeps. Tonight, both truths pressed heavily on her shoulders as she stepped into Cell 12 of the precinct’s lower wing.
By Muhammad Mehran3 months ago in Criminal
The Criminal Nobody Suspected
M Mehran The first report said it was an accident. A kitchen fire. Nothing unusual—old houses do that sometimes. But by the time the fourth house burned in the same neighborhood, the town of Briar Creek stopped calling it coincidence.
By Muhammad Mehran4 months ago in Criminal
The Clockmaker’s Promise
M Mehran Everyone in the quiet town of Eldenbrook knew Elias Thorn, the old clockmaker whose shop stood at the corner of Willow Street. The windows were always fogged with dust and time, and the shelves were filled with clocks—grandfather clocks, pocket watches, delicate sand timers, and curious contraptions no one had names for.
By Muhammad Mehran4 months ago in Fiction
The Lantern Maker of Lyria
M Mehran Lyria was a town that did not sleep. Even at midnight, its narrow cobblestone streets glowed with strings of paper lanterns—blue for peace, yellow for hope, white for healing, and red for courage. But the most beautiful lanterns, the ones people whispered about, came from the workshop at the very edge of the riverbank, where an old woman named Sera lived.
By Muhammad Mehran4 months ago in Fiction
The Library at the Edge of Dreams
M Mehran No one knew when the library appeared. One morning, the townspeople of Merrinfield woke to find a tall glass building standing at the edge of the river — a place that hadn’t been there the day before. It shimmered faintly, like sunlight caught on water. There was no sign, no doorbell, only a single line etched into the glass:
By Muhammad Mehran5 months ago in Fiction
