fiction

Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.

From Custody to Creativity — My Journey from Crime to Crafting Stories
There was a time in my early life when shadows stretched long and the thrill of rebellion clouded my better judgment. My journey began in a world most would shy away from—a life of crime that was as dangerous as it was short-lived. It wasn’t about the thrill, not really. It was about survival. But survival often demands a cost, and sooner or later, that bill arrives.
By Umar Farooq6 months ago in Criminal
🔇 The Power of Silence: Why What Isn’t Played Matters as Much as What Is . AI-Generated.
In music, sound is everything—or is it? At The Yume Collective, we know that sometimes silence speaks louder than notes. The pauses, the empty spaces, the moments when the music stops—these are the secret ingredients that give music its depth, emotion, and meaning.
By The Yume Collective6 months ago in Criminal
The Broken Heart Killer: A Bangalore Cop’s Final Stand Against a Serial Murderer..
Bangalore is a city that rarely sleeps. Even during the monsoon rains, its narrow lanes stay alive with auto rickshaw horns, street food vendors shouting, and neon signs glowing in the wet night. But beneath this vibrant energy, something far darker was unfolding — a series of murders that left the city terrified.
By Ubaid Ur Rehman6 months ago in Criminal
Let the World See: The Murder of Emmett Till"
Let the World See: The Story of Emmett Till The summer of 1955 was stifling in the Mississippi Delta. In the small town of Money, the air hung heavy not just with heat, but with the unspoken laws of Jim Crow — a brutal code that dictated how Black people were to live, move, and survive in a world built to exclude them. For 14-year-old Emmett Till, visiting from Chicago, the rules were invisible. And that invisibility would cost him his life.
By Hasbanullah7 months ago in Criminal
The Stranger Who Knew My Name. AI-Generated.
I. The Night That Changed Everything It was almost midnight. I was sitting alone in the back of the 92 Express, heading home after a twelve-hour shift at the warehouse. My feet throbbed from standing all day, and my eyelids were heavy, the way they get when your body is begging you to give up and go to sleep. Outside the bus windows, the city was dissolving into shadows and sodium-orange pools of streetlight. I liked this time of night. It was quiet. No cars honking, no chatter. Just the hum of the road beneath the tires.
By Ali7 months ago in Criminal
Vanished in Section Nine. AI-Generated.
The air in the Control Hub was sterile, tinged with the ever-present scent of ozone from the humming machinery. Deep beneath the surface of the Earth, buried inside the government's most classified research facility, lay Section Nine — a place few entered, and none ever left.
By Said Hameed7 months ago in Criminal
Code Name: Guilt. AI-Generated.
The rain hadn’t stopped in three days. It slashed across the cracked windows of the safehouse in northern Berlin, masking the low hum of encrypted radios and the soft tapping of Agent Mara Voss’s fingers against her ceramic mug. The bitter taste of stale coffee didn’t bother her. After years in black ops, nothing did—except guilt.
By Said Hameed7 months ago in Criminal
The Informant’s Widow. AI-Generated.
The rain hadn’t stopped in three days. Margaret Halloran stood at the window of her modest two-bedroom home on the outskirts of Belfast, watching the mist collect over the crumbling headstones of the graveyard across the lane. Somewhere beneath that ancient sod lay Michael Halloran, her husband of seventeen years, and the man everyone now called a traitor.
By Said Hameed7 months ago in Criminal
The Priest’s Other Life. AI-Generated.
Father Dominic was the kind of priest who made people believe again. Not just in God, but in kindness, in redemption, in something more than their tired little lives. His sermons were poetic and raw, his hands calloused from helping rebuild homes after storms, and his voice calm in times of crisis. He wore the collar with sincerity, not superiority. To his parishioners at St. Augustine’s, he was a saint in waiting.
By Said Hameed7 months ago in Criminal
Key Polish Official Is Killed by Truck At Karachi Airport
On the 1st of November 1970, 50 years ago today during a welcome ceremony, the Polish Deputy Foreign Minister Zygfryd Wolniak was killed at Karachi airport by a Pakistan International Airlines (PIA) employee and anti-communist Islamic fundamentalist named Mohammed Feroze Abdullah who was trying to kill the entire delegation, aiming Polish President Marian Spychalski in particular.
By 🕵️‍♂️ True Crime Enthusiast | Storyteller of the Dark Side 🔍7 months ago in Criminal
A Bullet for Every Lie
The desert sun beat down like a punishment from the gods. Sand twisted in the wind, whispering secrets long buried. Marshal Elias Thorne rode slow, his duster billowing behind him, silver badge catching sunlight like a mirror to the past. The town of Redemption lay ahead, brittle and sunburnt, its wooden bones creaking in the wind.
By Said Hameed7 months ago in Criminal
Two Graves, One Name
The small town of Elderspring sat nestled between two mountain ridges, half-forgotten by time and progress. At its edge, the cemetery sprawled across a sloping hill, shaded by cypress trees and veiled in a near-constant hush. There, under an aging iron arch that read Whispering Pines, lay two graves side by side—unremarkable save for one eerie detail. They bore the same name:
By Said Hameed7 months ago in Criminal