Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Criminal.
Nausea
On April 13th, 1994, at 4:44 A.M., I was born in the city known as Nashua, New Hampshire. Awarded the title of "Best Place to Live" not once but twice, one would imagine that it is a great place to raise a family with next to no crime. To the folks in my age group, the aforementioned statement is laughable at best. I suppose that if you turn a blind eye to the blatantly obvious social atrocities that are taking place, they do not exist.
By Shawn Mitchell5 years ago in Criminal
Book
Rupert Crowne had spent much of his days as the free head of a budding empire. Through business dealings, intimidation, and manipulation, he all but OWNED Imperial City. The locals knew of his underhanded dealings; but the law couldn't touch Crowne. He had lower level hoods to take the fall for actually committing his misdeeds or to shakedown politicians and businesses who sought to remain beyond his reach. Crowne's men would roam the streets and commit any number of crimes in his name; he, on technicality, kept his hands clean by remaining in his higher office and making the calls to his gang. He needed only make a few calls, keep at least most of his underlings on the streets, and reap the benefits of organized crime and political and media manipulation.
By Kent Brindley5 years ago in Criminal
Mission
“Fuck!” I shouted, I jumped out of bed and turned off my alarm that I snoozed a few too many times. I hurriedly threw on my clothes and got ready for work. I rushed downstairs, let my Aussie outside to do his business, and fed him. I got a muffin from the kitchen, slipped into my shoes, snatched up my bag, and headed for the door. “Be good while I’m gone Koda!”
By Cheyenne Oswald5 years ago in Criminal
Killing on friendly skies
The plane was finally landing in London Heathrow Airport after a two hour delay in San Francisco go figure always that fog. I was exhausted and if one more person rang there call button for another Diet Coke I was about to lose my mind . I had only about an hour to make it to my appointment . On the crew van on the way to the hotel, I took out my black notebook for the name and address and googled to see where I had to be. The rest of the crew were discussing there night antics . I was hoping to make it back for at least one drink . After arriving at the hotel and taking a shower to get off that plane smell, I was getting dressed in all black feeling like a ninja of the night . The hardest part was leaving the hotel and not being spotted by a crew member .
By Pamela Widmann5 years ago in Criminal
The Goblin with the Super Bee
Ghouls and jack-o'-lanterns lingered in the yards, their glowing faces fading in the biting winds of November 3rd. It was 1971, and while the streets still held echoes of Halloween mischief, spindly limbs of skeletal trees swaying in the breeze, dried leaves scattered like whispers, I was preparing for my final masterpiece.
By M.R. Cameo5 years ago in Criminal
They are not Monsters, they are men
Another woman has been found dead in Trinidad. We as a people are outraged. Sad. Hurt. Scared. Paranoid. Blood-thirsty. And we are calling the perpetrator a "monster". But he is not. And I think it is extremely important that we start humanizing the men who murder and rape in this country. Because when we start seeing them as our fellow men, then we can stop them in their tracks from souring into malignance.
By Stephanie Ramlogan5 years ago in Criminal
