fiction
Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
Watch Your Head
“Shit,” Detective Ashburn cursed at the road. The headlights were being interrupted by the rain, but her focus was on the dimly lit homes that skated by. The houses came to a stop in front of a strongly lit porch where Ashburn stops the car, she forces the vehicle into park and releases a sigh of relief. Ashburn walks to the stoop of the craggy house as she knocks on the door.
By Rachel Huron4 years ago in Criminal
The rich hitman
Hi, my name is James Crawford, and I am an innocent alcoholic who lives in Croatia but I am not so innocent now. I used to live in a one-bedroomed apartment where my friend, Davis Lanes would pay rent for me so I wouldn't worry about anything besides which beer I was going to buy with the money that Davis would have sent to me but one Saturday afternoon Davis decided to visit me and it was not good at all, he was complaining about how I did not pay my own rent and how I would always be sick due to the alcohol I consume. At first I did not care about what Davis was saying until he mentioned cutting me off and at that point I started begging Davis not to cut me off but he refused. I was worried about where I was going to be living the next month. I was so stressed that I did the only thing I am good at, drinking. I went to the bottle store to drown my worries in beer but it did not seem to work. I purchased my tenth beer and sat outside the store and as I was about to open my beer I remembered an old friend named Alex Runner. I pulled out my phone to search for his contact and luckily enough I found it. Alex requested a meeting at his house which was twenty minutes away from my apartment. I walked to Alex's beautiful mansion and I was quite shocked considering that he was just as broke as me ten months ago. The gates opened up for me. I approached the mansion thinking I had written down the wrong address but the front door opened up and to my surprise, Alex walked out. He was so excited to see me but. I was still confused and I rubbed my eyes to make sure I was not dreaming and to my ultimate surprise, it was not a dream. Alex got to me and hugged me. I only had one question to ask which was
By Tapiwa Zinyuke4 years ago in Criminal
Putnam Robberson
“Careful, careful. Doubtless I’m a wobbling bottle, but a bottle can fall and break not. I’ll bite another nail and avoid a fresh set of tangents. If the translucent glass figure of my being smashes then I shall only lay there shattered, not dissolved — and certainly not dead. Should I be intact upon this potential drop I shall wait for a fool to pick me up and put me on the shelf. “No! Get your mouth away from me. There’s nothing in me: I’m not new.” And I’ll sit, cosy, upright, peering out, writing my letters however I please, with my resolutions secure and protected, ignorant of that aligned around me on the shelf. I’m an active ornament, a funky rogue rendering no followable trail. Pick up my pooh and see just how fresh it is. Did I go left? Right? Was that little branch snapped by my movements or by a lost but carefree monkey? I am gone. I don’t need to be a ghost. No one is watching me, rather me them. Leave the jungle! Let autopilot fly you out. And you’ll die never connected to your true self, fettered to the influences of your dreadfully similar brethren. And me, I shall be an anonymous bottle, open, empty, devoid of carbonated conventions, filled with delicate insight, — perhaps precious — quiet and groomed with self-respect, adding to the modest flavours of my simple soul, like a relaxed wizard with wisdom and mansuetude swimming through his veins, for man had trampled on the moon, drenched the earth in blood and lost any quasi interpretable translation of love there ever was: how can I be a part of that? I am careless, I am gentle, and I am nothing like you.”
By Oscar Richard4 years ago in Criminal
Playing with Pyros
The aerosol can hissed and sprayed chemicals across the living room; igniting instantly. The trail of flames eventually engulfed the brown suede couch, crimson curtains and gray carpet. Lodin ran out the back door just as the rest of the cans he had planted began to pop and rupture with the rising heat. Once outside, he walked through the alley and examined the back of the house. He enjoyed the yard, and he thought that she would too because she had talked about how much she wanted a big yard for future kids and family dogs. Amidst his admiration of the smoldering house, he heard voices and knew people had already begun to gather for tonight’s show.
By Myiah L Bengston4 years ago in Criminal
The Red Lady
She didn’t know what she was doing anymore. That much was certain. As she swirled her spoon in the dark drink, Amber stared blankly at the glass cup, her eyes barely blinking the deeper she lost herself in the liquid of her thoughts. Sinking into her worn and cushioned seat, she swallowed hard and tried to even out her breathing when she felt her vision begin to sting and water.
By Delores Wilson4 years ago in Criminal
Almost
“We’ve got an obvious burglary and homicide here,” began the officer. “Victim number one, and the owner of the house has been identified as Michelle Rockwell, 29 years old, throat slit from left to right, looks like the cut gets deeper as it goes on. Seems she was killed right here. Victim number two on the other hand appears to have been stabbed in the chest, abdomen, and legs an astounding number of times in the kitchen and dragged out into the living room to rest next to the first body. His name is Calvin Haines, 33 years old. There’s also a third victim who the attacker roughed up pretty bad. Alex Cumberland, yes, the Alex Cumberland. Apparently he had been dating Ms. Rockwell, but she broke up with him a few months ago and began dating Mr. Haines soon after. Mr. Cumberland discovered some of her items at his apartment and decided to bring them back to her, where he discovered the attacker slitting Ms. Rockwell’s throat. He then busted down the door and tried to wrestle the knife out of the attackers’ hands, but the guy punched him in the face pretty bad, kicked him in the abdomen a few times, quickly stole some really valuable items, and fled the scene. Mr. Cumberland then called 911 and tried to stop Ms. Rockwell from bleeding out, but the cut was too deep. Also, he says the perp wore a mask and gloves so he couldn’t get a look at the guy’s face.”
By Taylor Patterson4 years ago in Criminal
My Soul to take II
I still had fond memories of my trip to Spain. A smile creased my lips then my eyes began to well. The stray dog— I remembered that day especially. Amazing—nearly a year had elapsed, and I could still remember that dog. Such a horrific way to leave this world—alone. At least I provided some comfort for that poor soul. I remember staring into its eyes and seeing a soul, a very sad and humble one.
By Iosefa Manu4 years ago in Criminal
Words
When I was a little girl, I say about eight years old. My friend Jeanie and I wanted a concession stand. There was a group of men standing outside with nothing to drink. It was summertime. Of course, they had something to drink, and it didn´t look like it to us!
By Marie Ehlenbach4 years ago in Criminal
Follow the Breadcrumbs
Morning has risen and I barely slept. There was a murder incident in my town. It’s on the news and in the newspaper, it’s everywhere. You cannot miss it. I live in a small town. The story is about a young woman named Holly Shelton who I went to school with. Everyone was confused and there seemed to be no clues as to why she was murdered. She was the prettiest girl in school, the captain of cheerleader team, daughter of the chief of police, the best waitress in the local diner, and her boyfriend Alex was the captain of the football team. She is simply someone who had no enemies. Her father, as the chief of the police, had sent a lot of people to prison. There were a lot of people who were his enemies. I knew Holly, but I was the biggest nerd, so I ran in a different crowd.
By Jade Renteria4 years ago in Criminal
