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Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
Yummy
She looked tasty to him. Red hair,nice, and tan. The prison was calling out her name. Getting a wizard to knock her off. That was not a very nice thought. Although it twisted her mind a lot. Gathering information for the next go around. Look at that bubble on her. It was enticing her to a level that was insincere.
By Alex Jennett4 years ago in Criminal
The Emancipation of Collette Martin - Part 6
Los Angeles – December 20th 1968 Collette lies awake staring at the ceiling of the cheap hotel room that she and Ben have been calling home for the last couple of months. She sighs as she loses count of the pockmarks in the ceiling tiles. “God, now I’m going to have to start over...”
By Ashley McGuire4 years ago in Criminal
Sherlock Holmes: Holmes and the Ripper Review
Back in 2010, when Big Finish were launching their range of Sherlock Holmes audio plays, "Holmes and the Ripper" stood out as being the first to feature Nicholas Briggs and Richard Earl as Holmes and Watson respectively. Now, of course, this team up have gone on to star in numerous stories and award-nominated box-sets since, so this step back in time to a period where this was all very new and very fresh is a strange one. And, while very unlike most of the other Holmes plays to follow, this is still an enjoyable listen, with an interesting plot, some well-developed characters and a great chemistry between the two lead actors.
By Joseph A. Morrison4 years ago in Criminal
Something Unusual
A Distant Siren sounded somewhere in the distance; my mind was fuzzy, like the morning mist which appeared from God only knows where. I felt like I’d been hit over the head with a bag of spanners, either that or I had a serious migraine. That’s Los Angeles for you anyways. I then heard the shrill ring of the office phone. I dragged myself out of my crumpled paradise of sleep and crawled towards my desk. Things weren’t going to get easier, that I was sure of.
By John Gordon4 years ago in Criminal
James Clifton, Murderer?
We have all been blamed for something we weren't guilty of doing, at least once in our life. In the best case, you were accused of eating someone’s yogurt, and in the worst case, you were accused of murder. Don’t get me wrong, being blamed for something small, like eating someone’s yogurt, when you are not guilty still isn’t a pleasant situation to be in. However, it comes with much smaller consequences than murder. At worst, you get a slap on the wrist and labeled a liar. Being accused of murder, on the other hand, may result in a much worse outcome. I have been accused of many things I haven't done in the past, like farting, because the actual culprit didn’t claim it. My declaration of innocence apparently automatically made me accountable for the fart. Between you and I, I claim my farts, ok. This time, I have been accused of something much worse than stealing yogurt or farting. I have been accused of murdering my girlfriend, but I am innocent. I am writing this in the hope that it changes how you perceive me.
By Sophie Poulin4 years ago in Criminal
Powder
At the southern border crossing between California and Mexico, a commercial car transport is moving through the check point. An officer of the border patrol approaches the vehicle. He asks the drier a few questions before indicating that the driver pull out of line for a routine inspection of the unit. The rig driver obviously frustrated complies and takes his vehicle to the designated area. Once there he is asked to exit the vehicle and accompany the officer inside a building along with his paperwork. Inside the building a series of questions again are directed at him before his photo is taken and copies made of his accompanying documentation. “What’s the meaning of all this?” he asks “I have been transporting goods across the border for thirteen years and never had to go through such a rigorous interview.” He continues. “I’m sorry Mr. Orwell, but we routinely do random checks on vehicles coming across the border and it’s normally event free. Why your vehicle was chosen today I cannot say but we should be done with you shortly. I do apologize for your inconvenience.” Replied the agent who continued to leaf through the paperwork. A Walkie-Talkie radio on the desk before them rang which the agent answered, “Jackson!” said he. “Hey we’re all finished out here!” the voice over the radio stated. “Ok copy that!” officer Jackson responded returning the radio to his desk. Smiling he turned to the driver, “that’s you Mr. Orwell, looks like we’re all done here. Come with me I’ll escort you back to your truck.” They both got out of their chairs and walked down the long pale hallway towards the exit. A series of photos lined the wall on one side and a water cooler sat against the opposite wall. The forest green commercial carpet led to the front door. Once outside they made their way to the parked tractor trailer, crossing a concrete pavement as they do. “Again I apologize for any inconvenience and thank you for your understanding.” Officer Jackson said as Mr. Orwell mounted the vehicle. “Drive safely” Jackson said as he left the driver to his business “yeah I’ll try” replied Orwell. As he sat in his seat and ignited the engine of his unit. The Peterbuilt slowly crawled out onto the highway and Orwell began putting it through its gears. He glanced in his rearview mirrors and saw the check point slowly drift into the distance, “sons of bitches” he uttered as he resumed his heading reaching for a half-eaten tortilla wrap he was snacking on. The iconic Guerros name running across the grease paper wrapper in parallel lines. Something about Mexican food had always appealed to him, maybe it was the experience he had as a child growing up living in Texas. His parents would cross the border to on select occasions take them, him and his sisters both older than himself, to beach side camping, mainly for holidays or weekends. They would sleep in the family van of make tents depending on the availability of sites to pitch the tent. When all else was impossible they would get a cheap motel and spend the nights there. He particularly didn’t like those nights. The days spent frolicking in the salt water at Rosa Rito or Ensenada, those were the best days of his childhood life. He made memories there that have stained his perception of what the good life is like, met people who have remained a staple of his social life to this very day. Some people from these memories are no longer in his life or even in this world, but, in those memories, those sunny days in Mexico they still smile as bright as they did the day they walked the beach. ‘How crazy are our memories better than any video tape. I almost can smell the barbecues and taste the salty ocean air, families enjoying a birthday or a public holiday’ he thought. Sighing heavily he reaches for a plastic cup and sips the iced beverage from the straw before returning the cup to the holder. “Those were the days.” He said, returning to his current reality. He checked his GPS and put on his aviator sunglasses. Taking his phone from the holder next to the one containing his drink cup, he dialed a number from the contact list. The music form his stereo cut as the ringing sound came over the audio system of the rig. The phone had hardly rang three times when a quick “hola” came over the speakers. “Eh, como estas?” using the little Spanish he knew Orwell replied. “What’s happening Gordo?” asked the voice on the line “I’m in California baby and I will be there within the coming week all things goes well!” “Ah que bueno! When you get here I will give you directions for the delivery, so let me know once you hit New England.” “Ok sounds good, save me some good beers. I haven’t had a good bender in over a week. Those guys in TJ were stuck on stupid for a minute and everybody was all tense. Was my worst trip yet!” “Yeah it gets like that sometimes you know! The best part of the business is always over here…. Ok I’ll let you get back to the road. Be safe! See you in a few days.” “Hey you guys do the same! Talk then. Ciao! Ciao! With that Orwell disconnected his call and begun searching for some road music on his radio. Lighting a cigarette he turned the volume up on the stereo and tapped his fingers to the beat as he got his mind back to the long journey before him. “East coast here I come!”
By Stieve Fernandez4 years ago in Criminal
Powder
“Son of a bitch!” a nondescript Chevy Malibu sits at a stoplight out in the Nevada territory. It has been on a long cross country path that had lasted the last four days. Inside, sits two occupants. One, a female who looks to be in her mid-twenties to early thirties. She is blond, with eyes a pale green. Her oversized prescription glasses denotes a design popularized in the 80s now a prominent expression of the feminist movement. She is clad in a yellow spaghetti strapped blouse with a smiley face of rainbow colours across the chest area. Her skimpy jeans shorts reveal long pale legs that end in petite shoeless feet sitting on the dash. Her companion, a Hispanic male early to mid-thirties wearing a blue fitted cap dark sunshades not unlike Ray Charles, black t-shirt and matching blue jeans. He is frantically tries to put out a joint he was smoking, which led to brushing embers and soot falling on his lap and the seat, much to his distress as the light in the turning lane just went green and the eminent approach of a cop car in said lane has him spooked. He seemed oblivious to the fact that the midnight tint on the windows makes it practically impossible for passersby to see what’s transpiring within the confines of the vehicle. “Chill out!” she told him “you’ll attract more attention the way your acting!” “Shut up nobody asked you!” he snapped at her as he continues brushing the remnants off his lap. The cop car went by, took a left and disappeared in the distance. “Wow! See how he looked at me?” he asked while looking around in his rear view mirrors as if someone was trailing him. “You do realize that he can’t see you right?” “Shut up! What do you know?” he again snapped at her. She hissed before taking a small Ziploc bag of coke from her bra. She scooped some of its contents into her fingernail before sticking the nail into her nostril and snorting hard, then repeating the whole process only this time alternating the nostril. “Give me some of that!” he demanded “The way your acting you ought not to have anything but bottled water!” she replied. “Fuck you! I’m straight. Pass it here before this dam light changes.” He’d barely finished speaking when the light indeed changed and he was forced to drive. As he drove he looked at her with disdain and lit the crumpled joint he’d been smoking earlier. “Puta mierda!” he quipped as he exhales the smoke. She ignored him and reached out to turn on the radio, he smacked her hand away and proceeded to change the station himself once he was satisfied with his selection he turned the volume to maximum and opened up his driver side window, ashed his joint and nodded his head to the beat of the song being played. She rolled the passenger side window down as well and stared out at the passing scenery. “I need to use the bathroom!” she said… his being in a world of his own coupled with the blaring music heard nothing of it. “I NEED TO USE THE BATHROOM!” she yelled. He turned the volume down and looked at her, “What did you say about me?” he asked. “I gotta pee.” She replied calmly “O ok hold on.” he replied. They drove another few minutes before they arrived at an exit to a rest stop below. He took the exit and before long they were at a service station parking lot. “Grab me some cigarettes while you’re in there.” He told her as they parked. She reached in her bag took her purse out and asked “anything else?” “Let me hold that baggie.” He responded She reached in her bosom and retrieved the baggie which she tossed to him before exiting the car. He watched her swish her waist as she walked away from the car and kept his eye on her till she slipped behind the service center’s door. Then he opened the Ziploc baggie and began indulging in its contents. Inside the store his female companion roamed the isles looking for items they needed. Her arms slowly began to fill as she grabbed snacks and other nix knacks. As she arrived at the refrigerator she struggled to get the door open due to the plethora of items occupying her arms. Within a moment a young man came over to offer her some assistance… “Thanks a bunch, I always forget to grab a basket you know.” She said slightly embarrassed. He opened the door and asked “What exactly would you like?” “Just two Heinekens and a two Red Bulls, oh and a bottle of water.” “Hope you’re not drinking and driving now.” He said quizzing as he removed the items from the fridge “No my boyfriend is doing the driving so I’m good” “Well for a second I thought maybe I was lucky.” “Lucky?” she repeated looking at him “with what?” she questioned. “It’s not often a pretty little lady like yourself enters this place alone… get so used to seeing couples I for a moment thought you must have been sent for me.. Ha-ha ….” He explained before laughing “Well that’s quite an assumption! Isn’t it? Well at least I know why you offered to assist me … or was it to my rescue you came... Shining amour and all?” she smiled at him as she finished speaking and walked towards the counter. “I came, I guess to assist a customer, and if possible kill two birds with a single stone ... I haven’t had any opportunity to look into the eyes of a deity before now.” “How charming…your longue has a silver lining I see.do you guys sell blunt wraps?” “As a matter a fact we do. 420 friendly are we?” “Who isn’t these days?” She replied as she laid he items on the counter. The clerk was now making his way to his station and reaching for the wraps he asked “You’re not from out here are you? What’s that accent?” “Boston Massachusetts, east coast baby!” “Wow you’re a long way from home, I’m Derrick by the way.” “You don’t say I for sure thought that was your brother’s name on that shirt! Well nice to meet you Derrick. I’m Cathy.” “So what brings you all the way out here?” “My boyfriend has business to attend to in California.” “And you just tagging along?” “Yeah and its boring in Mass. you know!” “Never been but I take your word for it.” “Trust me you aren’t missing nothing.” “Well if you ever want to see Nevada, I’ve lived here my whole life know every nook and cranny… so.” “Wow you don’t waste no time do you Derrick inviting me out already are you. Best be careful my BF is rather crazy so it’s best if I get going before he gets curious.” “Oh my bad!” “No you ok, just don’t need any extra drama. Got enough as it is. You guys got a restroom in here?” “Yeah it’s just beyond that half wall first door on your left… well all the doors are on the left, but yeah the first one.” “Thank you I almost forgot I had to pee so badly.” “You didn’t say how many wraps.” “Three!” She smiled and moved swiftly towards the indicated direction. As she does she glanced out the glass at the front of the store and noticed a patrol car slowly pulling into the parking lot. “Oh shit!” she exclaimed before quickening her speed. Derrick packed all the items in two bags and awaited her return. It didn’t take long for her to come hastily back from the bathroom. “That’ll be forty eight dollars and sixty eight cents.” He told he as she approached the counter, she rummaged through her purse before giving him a fifty dollar note and suggesting he keep the change, grab her bags and made her way out the door. “Bye Derrick shouted as she slipped out of view. The patrol car was already at the exit of the parking lot awaiting its chance to rejoin the highway. She made her way towards the parked car and opened the door. A plume of smoke rushed outwards as she entered. “What took you so long?” asked her boyfriend “you could have got me busted!” “Me!” she asked surprised “Yeah you! You didn’t see the cops?” he asked her “The restroom does not have windows!” she replied sarcastically. “What would you have me do shit right by the front door?” “Next time just hurry up!” he said handing her the joint. “Roll the windows down and let some air through. I don’t know how you can even breathe in here like that.” She stated as she took the joint from him. Removing the beers she opened them up passing one to him as she does. “You might want to finish this before we hit the road!” she said as he takes the green bottle from her hand. She then reclined her seat slightly and put a leg up on the open door, relaxing as she enjoys the effects of the marijuana she smokes. “I got us three blunt wraps” she said as she passed the joint to her boyfriend. “That’s why I love you Catherine.” He said leaning over to offer her a kiss. They share a quick moment of passion before he emptied his beer and rolled the bottle away unto the parking lot. Then he started the engine and before long they were out on the road. Reaching into the bag to retrieve an energy drink Cathy noticed a piece of paper akin to the receipt slip. Her boyfriend keeping his attention to the road while talking on the phone notices not her discovery. She retrieves the paper and notices derrick had written his number on it. Smiling and slipped the paper into her purse.
By Stieve Fernandez4 years ago in Criminal
Powder
The dry encrusted blood stretched from my eye straight down my cheek. Parallel by its kin from my nose, around the edge of my lip and down my chin. Heck I should say my skin sat in streaks across my face encrusted in blood. At least it had stopped dripping. For a while I thought, I would have bled to death. My chest painted in the dark deep red of stale blood, one of my teeth sat upon my lap in an admixture of blood saliva sweat and cloth from my boxers. My hands were still tightly bound and had been chaffed by my struggle to get free and by natural reflex as I tried to protect my face from the blows it was receiving, not that it helped. But a drowning man still catches at a straw right? I had fully accepted the inevitable, though I still hoped somehow a change would come. My insides felt weird from the stab wounds that had been inflicted upon them. At one point I could feel the blood draining into the bottom of my torso. But now I couldn’t tell what I feel. Death was a guarantee at this point. All I did was try to remain relaxed if that was possible. As I sat there I hoped for all purposes they had been gone for the day. I could not endure another episode, not at all. I thought of my life, how I would be home now just having a beer, Enjoying being alone. Yet, now I’m alone, I want to have them here in my final hours talking to me, comforting me. I had failed them all. Failed me. It’s hard to think everything could go awry in so short a time. How did I let this happen? Did I have a choice? Could I have done things differently? I almost chocked on my saliva just now, the coughing hurt so bad. Its like getting stabbed all over again. God I’m so thirsty! It’s unbelievable. Inside my mind I secretly hoped the shutter would slide up and rescue would come rushing in, if only to give me some dam water. Christ! Yet it never comes. At least not yet. My eyes had grown so badly swollen, I couldn’t see shit! The light entered them in a fuzzy spotted scene, no definition no texture. They could have left the tools to free myself on the table across the room … they could have even left them at my feet it wouldn’t matter I couldn’t see it anyways I wonder if my tooth is even still sitting upon my lap? Probably had fallen on the floor by now. Ah fuck! Some water and a cigarette! Then I could give a fuck less if I died! Least I would have gotten rid of this wretched thirst and had a last bit of pleasure.
By Stieve Fernandez4 years ago in Criminal
Powder
“Dale wei!” a group Hispanic males moved feverishly back and forth bringing packages to a parked minivan. The location is quite remote and suggests a forested area. Nothing stands out as to the location except for the thick jungle foliage and mountainous scenery. A soft fog skirts the valley and the leaves of the plants still hold the remnants of the afternoon shower of rain that recently subsided. The earth is a deep reddish brown which hangs unto most surfaces within its reach. Mud puddles litter the immediate vicinity and makes splashes as the exhausted men scramble with huge bales upon their head or shoulders. There are a series of huts some of modest sizing others quite grand. Their roofs made from palm fronds intricately woven, designed to hold the wrath of nature at bay. The floors are raised platforms with at least eight feet between it and the ground. The space underneath seems to be for security and or storage. The huts were place with a randomness suggesting convenience as the deciding factor during construction. The occupied land has been stripped of vegetation in a wide area covering at least four acres. This creates a dramatic contrast where the bare earth coupled with the effects of human occupation stands out against the lush jungle greenery which surrounds it on all sides. Three dark green minivans sat beneath a roofed structure lacking the flooring of the other huts. There were a few men who occupied vicinity of the vans they were dressed as though they had only recently arrived to the jungle and probably would be leaving just as quickly as they’d arrive. They sported cowboy hats and leather boots, their shirts neatly pressed tucked into jeans adorned by oversized ornately engraved belt buckles. Chatting nonchalantly they each held onto glasses containing a brown liquid. Next to them was a wooden shelf which ran the length of the canopied area they shared with the vans. A radio played softly from the shelf and what appears to be the bottle from which they obtained their beverage sat next to the radio.
By Stieve Fernandez4 years ago in Criminal
Powder
A semi operator stood on the tire of his rig’s front driver side wheel, peering beneath the hood of the unit. He was travelling for a few days and was close to the end of his journey when his dash illuminated the check engine light. He had owned the vehicle for some time and was quite up to date ion his servicing guidelines, so he initially assumed it was some glitch in the sensors and as such decided to ignore it least until the next rest stop. He continued his journey for some time and had almost forgot its existence. Having journeyed another fifty or so miles he started recognizing an unusual rattling sound emanating from the vehicle. He could have stopped but again there was not too much cause for concern since he thought it was another ten miles to the rest stop ‘Perky Parrot’. “Valves needs adjusting!” he said to himself. That however was not an immediate issue, not five minutes later the rattle gave way to a loud explosion and bits of metal falling from the rig unto the road way. Acting quickly he put the engine into neutral gear and maneuvered the rig to the shoulder of the highway, killed his engine and hit his brakes. The behemoth came to a halt on the shoulder of the road its tail end sticking ever so slightly onto the highway. There came a peculiar smell of heated metal entering the cab of the semi. “What the fuck was that?” He asked himself as he quickly descended from the cab, he grabbed a series of orange emergency cones and proceeded to lay them out along the length of the semi. He then placed two triangle caution reflectors one at the front of the unit the other at the extreme rear. Once he’d done the precautions for traffic, he circled the unit looking for any signs of catastrophe. Nothing was obviously wrong externally, no hanging bits along the undercarriage. He took out a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket, then retrieved an engraved silver plated lighter from his denims, lit a cigarette and exhaled in a sighing breath. He took a few moments to observe the starry sky which seemed to be a lot closer than normal due to the remoteness of the location and lack of light pollution. The big dipper was leaning away from the top of the sky and making its way toward the horizon. A feeling of insignificance overtook him as he stood there beneath the plethora of stars that formed the Milky Way. Amongst them our technological advancement was obvious as a single satellite moved steadily across the expanse of the sky. His cigarette exhausted he returned the pack to his pocket and made his way to the front of the vehicle deciding to view the engine. He waited to allow it to cool of prior to attempting a diagnosing of the issue. Undoing the latches he pushed the hood backwards exposing the engine, climbing upon the wheel to gain a better vantage point of the engine compartment. As soon as he got up on the wheel he could see the cause of the explosion. A large gaping hole was to be seen on the lower half of the engine block as if some force from within had made its way outwards, taking the path of least resistance. Looking closely he noticed a curved bit of foreign metal wedged into the edge of the hole. Taking a pair of leather gloves he had stuffed in his back pocket, he proceeded to attempt removing the bit of metal. However the intense heat produced by the small piece of cast iron was too much for his gloved fingers. “Agghh!” he shrieked as he let go of it “son of a bitch!” Stepping down from the wheel of the rig he checked his gloves which were burnt with a distinct crescent shaped char mark imprinted upon them. “That shit must have been white hot!” he exclaimed as if telling someone. It was only then that it dawned upon him that this was a piece of the pistons from the combustion chamber. “Holy fuck!” that explained its shape and intense heat. So there he was having blown a piston through the wall of his engine block, he realized the helplessness of his situation. Reaching for a second cigarette he sighed and remarked “this is not good!” Sitting on the driver seat inside his cab. He retrieved his cell phone, dialed a number before lighting his cigarette. “Roadside assistance?” he asked of the voice on the other end of the line.” Yeah I’m around roughly five miles from the ‘Perky Parrot’ rest stop northbound on I-75. Yeah I think I’ll need a towing, blew a piston through the block wall... Ah not really, I’m on the shoulder just waiting. If you could make it sooner than later it would be greatly appreciated…. O...Ok gotcha… guess it’s just a waiting game now then? … Oh by the way you got any number for engine suppliers in the area I’m sure that’ll come in handy. You could shove a fist through the hole in the block and god only know what all else is going on inside the engine you know... ok thank you … yes this is my cell call me if you need anything or have any updates.” He got off his first call and searched his contact list before placing a second call. “Oh yeah capo. Como estas?” speaking in Spanish he gets into a lengthy conversation with the contact on the line. A headlight appeared in his rearview mirror off in the distance, he kept watching its approach which seemed quite rapid. Retrieving a third cigarette which he lit using the butt of the prior. “I’m certain I will be a few days late.” As the car in the rearview approached he stepped down from the cab and standing at the side of the unit waved his arm in a signaling manner. “Tomorrow I will see if I can get a engine replacement, if not you guys will ha….” BOOOM! A loud ear rattling explosion interrupts the quiet ambience of the area. Within a fraction of a second his eye caught a glimpse of something flying in his direction at such a high velocity his only reaction was to cover his face with his arm.
By Stieve Fernandez4 years ago in Criminal
Powder
Kash sat quietly staring out the passenger window. He was stuck in a state of deep thought as the traversed the journey toward their home state. Moving to the USA was a dream come true for him yet, he couldn’t help feeling like he was still controlled by the life he’d left behind in Jamaica. He was responsible for several murders prior to his being given a visa by the mayor of his town as a reward for the most high profile killing he had completed. The mayor had gotten himself involved in a loan sharking operation ran by a group of Norwegian expats and somehow it had led to a falling out amongst his (the mayors) political party. Most notably between the mayor and the number one contender for his position an up and coming politician by the name of Peter Beck. Being quite outspoken, beck had garnered significant support for the ousting of the current mayor. This created an air of animosity amongst the supporters of the current mayor and those who opposed. As is normal in the political circles in Jamaica most politicians have on their payroll gang leaders locally known as dons. Who, would use force and threats of violence and or death to control the direction of votes and support. A quick call to a certain don known as Malta, led to and eradication of the up and coming Peter Beck. The don had made arrangements for them to receive visas as part payment for the job upon successful completion. Before long Kash had found himself on a flight to Florida. In the US he was taken by the contacts of the don back home to a drug house, where, he was at first tasked with guarding the location and its operators. After several months he was moved to Texas and after some time brought to Connecticut. He had been living in Connecticut since and was pretty much an employee of the gang back home in Jamaica though he was given some room to maneuver on his own. The local boy of Jamaican descent slowly became his friends and eventually he and Tommy and ratty became a thing. They went everywhere together. While for tommy and ratty it was a joy to be acting out and proving themselves as tough guys, for Kash there was no option! His was a life of perpetual servitude, and eventually a violent death. Many a time he would ask the other two why they didn’t go to college get themselves right but was constantly provided the same answer. “We wanna come up like you did!” he would tell them they were idiots but left it at that. As the trees went by in the shadows he wished he could simply disappear. Start a new life and just be an average Joe. He reached over to the backseat to collect a flask bottle being passed by ratty behind him. “Good looking!” he said as he accepted the flask. Tommy smoking leisurely, speeding down the lonely stretch of highway attempt to ash the blunt out his window. As he does the gusty wind knocked the hot ash and a few stray embers into his face some landing in his eye. “Oh fuck!” he screamed as he panicked and making a split second reaction he attempted to brush the embers and ash from his face which caused the steering to veer sending the car slamming into the back of a disabled rig at the side of the road. A huge inferno ensued which engulfed the car and the rear end of the semi. Inside the raging inferno a voice could be heard screaming in a heart wrenching, stomach churning tone of desperation! The flames burned brightly illuminating the darkness of the countryside and consuming the entire body of the car.
By Stieve Fernandez4 years ago in Criminal
