fiction
Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
The Color Black
(The beginning according to Zion) Zion My name is Prince Zion King. I don’t go by Prince, for obvious reasons. I’ve already heard every joke there is about my name, so don’t even try. Everyone calls me Zion, except for my mother. She will go down into her grave calling me by my first name. She claims that she gave me my name for a reason—a reason that she never explained to me. Perhaps she envisioned herself as some kind of queen. If you knew my mother you would know what I mean.
By Jamie Dyke4 years ago in Criminal
The Color Black
(The beginning according to Sice Taral) Sice Taral My name is Sice Taral Jacare. I saw Joilah from across the classroom the first day of kindergarten. I remember because she was wearing red, my favorite color. It was my favorite color because my older brother wore nothing but red all the time. I looked up to him even though he wasn’t a role model in any sense of the word.
By Jamie Dyke4 years ago in Criminal
My Only Witness. Runner-Up in Return of the Night Owl Challenge.
The cracking of sticks and the crunching of leaves were the only sounds as I barreled through the dark woods. It was a frigid, November night in Utah, and I had nothing but my short, silk night dress and thin windbreaker on. I had kicked off my slippers when I first jumped out of the car, and my bare feet were raw from the rough earth. Nothing hurt though, it was as if my sense of pain had vanished when I began to run. I didn’t even feel the sting of the thorns and branches cutting my skin as I plowed through the brush.The only thing going through my mind was that I had to get away. Away from him. My mind was thick with confusion, desperation, and above all, fear. My foot caught hold of a tree root, and I hit the ground with a heavy thud. I crawled behind a large oak, and lay on the cold, mossy ground, trying to catch my breath. Was this a dream? How did I get here? Who was he and what did he want with me? The events of that night spun through my head like a film reel.
By Jenna Tomovich4 years ago in Criminal
Forbidden Lust: Part 1.
A smartly dressed man stands outside the Yonkers public library. A determined look is tattooed on his face. He has wallowed in the sewage of mediocrity and despair long enough. He refuses to be choked by the stench of regret and stagnation. Now was the time. The automatic doors opened briskly and B.M. Swift confidently stepped forward. He struts like a proud rooster towards a vacant seat parked in front of a lifeless computer screen. Before he notices it, he finds himself directly in front of a grossly obese creature, with a 6‘o clock shadow and bulletproof glasses. His breathing is unnerving, like a lawnmower that was years past its prime.
By Nima Nabavi'nejad4 years ago in Criminal
The Other Side of the Leaf
The ratched click of a lighter cut through the silence in the park. The flame illuminated McGrath's grizzly face as he pulled it close to his cigarette. He had bags under his eyes from years of sleepless nights. A crooked and flattened nose that had been broken countless times since his youth. A full beard except for a small scar on the left side of his chin which kept hair from growing there. His hair was the neatest part about him. No balding or receding line. No gray hairs. Just soft, smooth, straight hair he kept just long enough to run his fingers through.
By Derrick L Coleman4 years ago in Criminal
I'm Not Cam Sonnet
This is going to be a weird letter. There are going to be a lot of questions. Too many. Or, who knows, maybe nobody will care. Maybe we’ve sunk low enough that nobody will even notice. Or maybe, because we’ve sunk so low, everybody will make sure I get pushed as low as they can get me. That will probably happen, come to think of it, so it’s best I get this written down before life gets too crazy.
By Danny Swanson4 years ago in Criminal
The Actions of Love
Two fashionably dressed men strolled into Brown's public house together continuing their discourse regarding a previous engagement both had attended. Upon entering, the outward stale air ceased and was met with a sociable atmosphere. Each looked in the other direction to find a corner where the workers of the morning weren’t, and each found nothing. ‘Here wait a moment’, told the older gentleman who was known by all as Banks. He walked over to one of the barmen and had, what seemed, a very long discussion with him after which he motioned to his friend to come over.
By Helen Adams4 years ago in Criminal
After The Fall
The air seemed still as if the world had somehow stopped spinning. He lay motionless in bed tightly grasping the phone as he took slow shallow breaths to contain the anxiety creeping through his body as flashes of what were supposed to have been lost memories came crashing back into existence. He spent months in therapy writing off these violent dreams as hidden psyches fighting to be brought back to life when in fact they were simply reminders of what he left behind.
By Julia Alfred4 years ago in Criminal
