Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Criminal.

Digging Up Dirt
Twenty-thousand dollars and a little black notebook. That’s what was waiting for me inside a safety-deposit box in Williamsburg, Alabama less than a fortnight after the passing of my great-aunt Winnifred. She’d bequeathed it to me, her favorite nephew, even though she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of me in twenty-eight years.
By Michelle Jensen5 years ago in Criminal
Scapegoat
“Heads up Charles, Marshall’s on his way over.” “Notebook too?” “And a fancy three-piece suit to go with it. He really thinks he has you on this.”
By Matt Gavin5 years ago in Criminal
DeathXDesign
“Aloha designers. And welcome to Niihau, Hawaii! AKA “Paradise!” This island is the most sparsely inhabited private island in Hawaii. Very few live here or have access.
By African Pinupgirl5 years ago in Criminal
That Night, That Thing, That Monster
The brown sack, caked with dirt, was all she could smell. It was taped at her neck, tight enough to make every breath a struggle. Her wrists, likewise, were taped tightly together, digging into her skin. The rough carpet in the back of the van burned as she was shoved inside.
By Zoe Sober5 years ago in Criminal
Rhodes
Rhodes By Christopher Ford Waiting for the slowing vehicle to stop and open its doors, Christopher Flores leaned back against the white Cadillac Escalade, reached down and brushed at his right elbow with his left fingernails, faintly satisfying the itch.
By Christopher Ford5 years ago in Criminal
Mpasi, please hold.
Vivaldi blares from the kitchen counter top as the scent of fresh coffee fills my nose. The mug sits untouched on the other end of the work surface. Cold milk drips down my chin and I barely catch it with the tip of my spoon whilst inwardly celebrating the cat-like reflexes.
By Alex5 years ago in Criminal
Blackout
That’s it. I’m making an appointment. This is the fourth time in the last couple weeks I’ve woken up like this. My head won’t stop pounding, I’m soaked in sweat. Come to think of it, can’t even remember going to bed last night. I’m so thirsty, but the thought of getting out of bed makes me want to puke. Finally making my way to the kitchen, it looks like something out of a frat house. Beer cans overflowing from the trash. The handle of Jack I bought yesterday tipped over on the counter, empty.
By Kate B.5 years ago in Criminal
Larry
I know how much Robert likes privacy when we sleep, so I usually don’t say anything when he shuts the bedroom door, but it’s a really dark night and the kids might be scared. I can’t hear them as well with the door shut. I should just get up quietly so I don’t wake him, and open the door...
By Jerry Tulak5 years ago in Criminal
Old Times
Kate’s best, most reasonable, attainable dream home, was an aging castle of her own, in the quickly gentrifying neighborhood just east of downtown Kansas City, MO. There is even a national TV reality show about this area, called “Bargain Mansions”! In which a young blonde woman and her dad buy run down old Victorians, rehab it themselves and turn them into upscale Millennial Mansions.
By Sharon Cathers5 years ago in Criminal
For Freedom
Freedom lived in a house on September. She was the type of girl that asked too many questions, and stuck her nose everywhere. I think that’s why she got killed. Rumor has it the Kirkpatrick’s tied her up and threw her body off of Pt. Pier. I can just picture Billy Joe standing there, lighting up a cigarette and hopefully getting cancer. His breath reeked of trash and urinals. Road kill.
By Jenny 5 years ago in Criminal
Background 756
Hey, you know me. That guy you're always sitting across from on the subway, or bus or whatever you take. Or maybe you sit in your car or Uber alone to ponder your own life problems because you are just too good to see how much harder the rest of us have it. It doesn't matter how you get to where you go. Point is, I'm that guy. The one who is always in the background of everyone else's life. I see everything, and I draw it. I see everyone's happy little moments with their kids. I see guys yelling at their wives on the phone. Last week I saw someone call their husband only to have another woman answer. That was neat. I see people so concerned about what they are doing that day that they pay no mind to anyone else. Their day is all about them.
By Jeffrey Podany5 years ago in Criminal
Tesorino
The sweltering heat of another summer’s day bore into Edmundo de Santi’s back as he strode into the market. Sweat coated his body, soaking through his once-white button down shirt. That always seemed to happen to people living in Cessirae. Finery went to waste faster than money changed hands in the back alleys of the city. No one was rich or poor in Cessirae, they just were. At least, that’s what the government tried to shove down it’s people’s throats from their ivory pulpets.
By Reegan Wolford5 years ago in Criminal