Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Criminal.
Marked
Marked Jared stood smuggly on the platform at the doctor’s window. This was his favorite part - watching his marks notice their missing articles and his waving it as they are whisked to the next stop. He waited for the doctor to wake when they announced the stop for the second time...nothing. If he didn’t wake up soon, Jared would miss his chance. A minute later, the last call was announced and the doctor lay with his head pressed against the window, mouth open and eyes shut. Jared jumped back onto the train just as the doors were closing. He walked to the seat and kicked his foot as he pretended to sit - nothing. The train jerked violently and his mark fell over, lifeless. It was then that Jared noticed the small blushed area under the doctor’s right ear. “Tickets!” yelled the conductor as he walked down the aisle. Jared leaned over to see the puncture wound and sat back abruptly. This man wasn’t asleep - he was dead. “Tickets!” Not just dead - he was killed….murdered…..offed….. There was a murderer on this train and whoever it was murdered his mark. In all his years of lifting, Jared had never come across anything like this. The job was simple - get close, lift, gloat and leave. It kept him eating, clothed and sheltered for 4 years. This, however, was a completely different level of illegal. “Tickets!” He would have to make a run for it. He turned to dash to the restroom and stood eye to eye with the conductor. “Your ticket, sir.” Thinking quickly, he pulled the wallet and the little black Moleskine notebook he lifted from his pocket and opened them to reveal his mark’s ticket. “Dr. Worley?” Jared answered in the affirmative. “You seem a little young to be a doctor.” The conductor looked at him sideways. “I get that all the time. Sometimes it gets me out of meetings!” His laugh seemed too contrived, even for him, but he took back the ticket and stuffed it into the notebook and put it and the wallet in his pocket. The conductor’s eyes followed. He then asked about the “sleepy-head”. “My assistant - first time on a business trip and he can’t hack it. I may have to fire him. If it's all the same to you, I”ll not fish for his ticket in his pants pocket while he sleeps - seems suspiciously inappropriate.” The conductor gave an unsure nod but proceeded down the aisle.
By A Rose Williams5 years ago in Criminal
Black
This time I really screwed up. If I could take this back, I would never do anything like this again. Promise. See, I’m always doing stupid things. It’s not because I’m a stupid person. It’s because I crave adventure. No. . .I’m addicted to it. There isn’t anything I won’t try at least once. And I have jumped off a bridge because my friends told me to. More than once. I’ve committed minor felonies not out of a need for money, but out of an addiction to adrenaline. Today’s adventure wasn’t totally unprecedented, but there would be no bungee cords for this jump.
By Christopher LaSala5 years ago in Criminal
Wet Signature
The detective sat motionless and exhausted at his desk. He could see the glow of a high moon through dusty blinds. He embraced the silence in his office and felt the chill of crisp, cold air from outside as a few of his colleagues left the building.
By MICHELLE SHAAY 5 years ago in Criminal
The Good Life
He had been up here a hundred times and not once had he ever considered the need to leap the short distance between these two buildings. The two brick structures, built some time in the late 1800s, stood shoulder-to-shoulder, separated by a damp, dingy alleyway.
By Peter Anderson5 years ago in Criminal
Parasite
It happened again. The pitter patter of rain hitting hard against the trains, plowing through the darkness of night. The sound of the wheels scraping against the side of the tracks echoes throughout the yard. The feeling of emotional knives digging into my soul.
By royden davys5 years ago in Criminal
The Token
Rough hands tore the black hood off his head. The sudden light was blinding. A knife cut the rope binding his wrists. Two men forced him into a cold steel chair. Slowly, his eyes adjusted, and he saw he was in a small, windowless room. Figures in dark suits lurked just beyond the glow of the overhead fluorescent light. Seated across from him at a metal table, wearing a three-piece suit, was a bald man with a deep tan. A few days growth on his cheeks. Narrow, bloodshot eyes. Gold watch the size of a brick on his wrist. He looked like an insomniac James Bond villain.
By Michael O'Brien5 years ago in Criminal
The Eagle's Nest
Whilst he was alive, Claudio Bravo never became acquainted with Jules, but through a series of fortunate misfortunes, Jules would soon become rather intimately acquainted with the late Claudio Bravo. Like most people, Jules could use a bit of extra cash, but if he knew the strings attached to what was about to fall from the sky he might have chosen to carry on walking.
By Dan de Garre5 years ago in Criminal
The Good Life
Walter Johnson sits at the kitchen table, in his modest apartment, in a white t-shirt and boxers, finishing off the last cup of coffee. He takes the last gulp from his favorite "I Hate my Boss" mug, rises and heads toward the bathroom to perform the three S's. He brushes his teeth and shaves. When he's done shaving he stares into the mirror wondering "who is this guy?". He runs his fingers thru his hair revealing a receding hair line, pulls his skin taught to flatten the frown lines and wrinkles and inspects his yellowing teeth. He raises a pale, scrawny arm and he flexes his bicep. "Damn!" he swears under his breath. He turns and starts the shower running.
By Claire McKean5 years ago in Criminal
