Narrative Writing – Crime Stories
1. The House That Remembers
2. While I Sleep
3. A Perfume of Poison
4. The Good Samaritan
Instructions: Read the passage carefully. Choose the best verb from the options provided in
parentheses. Consider which word best fits the mood and tone of the story.
1.
The House That Remembers
The house at the end of Blackthorn Lane had been (abandoned / deserted / uninhabited) for
decades, or so everyone (believed / assumed / thought). Its windows, caked with dust and
time, (stared / gazed / glared) out like blind eyes. The door, warped and brittle, (hung /
dangled / leaned) slightly ajar, as if (inviting / luring / beckoning) the curious—or the
foolish—inside.
Detective Samuel Grayson (stepped / walked / crept) cautiously into the house, his boots
(creaking / groaning / echoing) against the rotting floorboards. The air was thick, suffocating,
(carrying / holding / emitting) the scent of damp wood, mildew, and something else—
something metallic, coppery. Blood. He (ran / brushed / wiped) a gloved hand over the
peeling wallpaper, (feeling / sensing / noticing) the dampness (seeping / leaking / oozing)
through the fabric, as if the house itself (was sweating / exuding / leaking) out its secrets.
Then he (saw / noticed / spotted) it.
In the center of the room, a chair (stood / rested / leaned), slightly tilted, as if someone had
(left / abandoned / fled) it in a hurry. But what (drew / captured / caught) Grayson’s eyes
was the body (slumped / sprawled / collapsed) beside it. The victim—a woman, late
thirties—(lay / was positioned / rested) on the floor, her hands (curled / clenched / twisted)
into fists. A gaping wound at her throat had long since (dried / hardened / thickened), the
blood (pooling / spreading / gathering) into a dark, crusted stain beneath her. Her eyes,
glassy and wide with eternal terror, (reflected / mirrored / displayed) the flickering light from
the detective’s flashlight.
The silence was oppressive. But then—drip… drip… drip…
Grayson’s breath (caught / halted / froze). His flashlight (traced / followed / searched) the
sound to the ceiling, where a slow trickle of something dark (seeped / leaked / dripped)
through the cracked plaster. His stomach (clenched / tightened / twisted). There was another
body upstairs.
A sharp creak (made / caused / forced) him to whirl around, gun drawn. The front door, which
had been slightly open, was now (shut / closed / sealed). A gust of icy air (brushed / grazed
/ swept) against the back of his neck. And then, in the silence, a whisper—a breath against his
ear.
"You shouldn’t have (come / entered / stepped in)."
The flashlight (flickered / dimmed / flashed). Footsteps (sounded / echoed / thudded)
overhead. Slow. Deliberate.
The house wasn’t (abandoned / deserted / uninhabited).
It never had been.
2.
While I Sleep
Ethan Hayes (awoke / stirred / arose) to the sound of sirens.
His sheets were damp with sweat, his breath (shallow / rapid / uneven). The same dream.
The same nightmare. He could still (feel / sense / recall) it—the weight of his hands around
someone’s throat, the panicked gasps, the warmth of blood (seeping / oozing / dripping)
between his fingers.
But it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
He (swung / threw / pulled) his legs over the side of the bed, the cold floor (grounding /
steadying / anchoring) him. His alarm clock (read / showed / displayed) 3:47 AM. He
(rubbed / wiped / pressed) his temples. Another restless night.
Then he (noticed / realized / saw) it.
His fingernails. They were (caked / covered / streaked) with dirt.
His stomach (dropped / clenched / tightened). His heart (pounded / raced / thudded) against
his ribs like a caged animal. Slowly, he (looked / glanced / peered) down at his hands. His
palms were (smeared / stained / coated) with something dark, something that (smelled /
reeked / stank) metallic.
Blood.
A scream (lodged / stuck / caught) itself in his throat. He (stumbled / staggered / rushed) to
the bathroom, (flicking / hitting / pressing) on the light. The pale, shaking reflection that
(stared / glared / gazed) back at him wasn’t just afraid—it was guilty.
His phone (buzzed / vibrated / rang). A news alert. BREAKING: Fifth victim of the Midnight
Strangler found near Westwood Park.
Ethan (felt / sensed / recognized) the floor (tilt / shift / spin) beneath him.
Westwood Park. Two miles from his apartment.
His dream. The alley. The way his fingers had (curled / clenched / gripped) around a throat,
squeezing, choking—
No.
It wasn’t real.
He (scrambled / searched / dug) through his closet, (tearing / tossing / throwing) aside
laundry. A hoodie, damp and reeking of sweat. Mud-streaked sneakers. His stomach (twisted
/ turned / sank). The pieces (clicked / fell / fit) into place, a puzzle he never wanted to solve.
Every victim had been found on nights when he had his nightmares.
Every detail of his "dreams" had been real.
And every time he went to sleep... he (became / turned into / transformed into) a killer.
His breaths (came / turned / became) in ragged gasps. He (backed / stepped / stumbled)
away from his own reflection, as if his body no longer (belonged / felt like / seemed like) his
own.
Then, his phone (buzzed / vibrated / beeped) again. A message.
"I know what you’ve done. We need to talk. Midnight. Westwood Park."
Ethan's blood (ran / turned / went) cold.
Someone knew.
And he had no memory of who they were.
3.
A Perfume of Poison
The ballroom (glowed / shimmered / sparkled) under the soft candlelight, the air (swirling /
thickening / filling) with the intoxicating scent of roses, wine, and something else—something
bitter, something wrong. Lady Eleanor (drifted / stepped / glided) through the sea of silk and
jewels, her painted lips (curving / twisting / stretching) into a smile as she (accepted /
received / took) another glass of champagne from a passing servant.
The music (rose / swelled / played) in the background, violins (singing / echoing / trembling)
with haunting elegance. Conversations (buzzed / hummed / murmured), laughter (trickling /
spilling / bursting) like honey through the golden room. Yet, beneath the glitter and opulence,
something dark (lurked / whispered / loomed).
Lord Benedict, poised near the grand staircase, (watched / studied / observed) her every
movement. His fingers (tightened / clenched / gripped) around the stem of his untouched glass.
Eleanor’s gaze (met / caught / held) his, and for a moment, the mask of civility (shattered /
cracked / wavered). He knew.
She (tilted / lifted / raised) the glass to her lips, the delicate perfume of almonds (curling /
drifting / rising) into her nose. A dangerous scent. A deadly scent. But she did not flinch.
Instead, she (sipped / tasted / drank), the liquid (sliding / burning / warming) down her
throat like liquid silk.
Across the room, Lord Benedict (paled / stiffened / froze). He (set / slammed / placed) his
glass onto the marble table, his breath (catching / stopping / faltering). Lady Eleanor’s lips
(parted / curled / quirked) slightly, her voice no louder than a whisper.
“You always were too easy to poison.”
His vision (blurred / swam / darkened). The world around him (tilted / spun / collapsed). He
(staggered / stumbled / swayed), his knees (buckling / trembling / giving) beneath him as a
cold numbness (crawled / crept / spread) through his veins. The glass slipped from his fingers,
shattering against the floor.
The laughter, the music, the golden glow of the chandeliers—everything (faded / dimmed /
blurred). The last thing he saw was Lady Eleanor, smiling as she turned away, the perfume of
poison still (lingering / floating / drifting) in the air.
4.
The Good Samaritan
The rain (poured / drizzled / lashed) against the pavement, turning the alleyway into a slick,
glistening tunnel of shadows. Detective Harris (pulled / yanked / adjusted) his coat tighter
around his shoulders, the cold wind (biting / gnawing / clawing) at his exposed skin.
Somewhere in the distance, a siren (wailed / echoed / blared) through the empty streets.
A figure (lurched / stepped / staggered) out from the darkness, collapsing against the brick
wall, breathless and shaking. Harris (reached / moved / lunged) forward, catching the man
before he hit the ground. His clothes were (soaked / stained / drenched)—not just from the
rain, but from the thick, crimson liquid (pooling / dripping / seeping) from his abdomen.
"Help… me," the man (whispered / gasped / groaned).
Harris (pressed / clutched / held) his hands against the wound, his fingers (slick / trembling /
firm) with blood. The man’s eyes (darted / flickered / rolled) upward, filled with fear, with
pleading. "A Good Samaritan… he said he was helping me."
Harris’s heart (pounded / raced / hammered). He had heard those words before.
The so-called "Good Samaritan" had been making headlines for months—an unknown figure
who "rescued" victims, only for them to be found dead hours later. No one had ever survived.
No one had ever spoken.
Until now.
"Who?" Harris (demanded / asked / urged). "Who did this?"
The man’s breathing (shuddered / slowed / broke) as he (tried / struggled / failed) to speak.
His fingers (tightened / twitched / curled) around Harris’s sleeve.
Then his eyes (went / turned / became) blank.
Gone.
A sharp movement behind him made Harris (spin / whirl / turn). A shadowy figure stood at
the alley’s entrance, the dim streetlight (casting / stretching / forming) a long, distorted
silhouette.
"You’re too late, detective," a voice (murmured / whispered / purred).
The figure (stepped / melted / disappeared) back into the darkness, leaving only the rain and
the dying echo of laughter in its wake.