fiction
Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
Evidence of Absence
Dr. Nina Holloway stared at the void. Not the kind of void poets wrote about, or philosophers pondered late at night. This was the literal, data-proven absence of something that should’ve been there. It blinked at her in neat lines of code, nestled in sensor data from her deep-space array. A patch of the cosmos, 22 light-years wide, where nothing—absolutely nothing—registered. No matter, no radiation, no gravitational ripples. No dark matter anomalies. No background hiss. A silence so pure, it was unnatural.
By Said Hameed7 months ago in Criminal
The Locksmith’s Secret
In the heart of the old town, nestled between a dusty bookshop and a bakery that always smelled of burnt cinnamon, stood a peculiar little shop with a brass sign that read: "Halvorsen & Son – Locksmiths Since 1883." The windows were clouded with age, and a small bell above the door gave a tired jingle whenever someone dared to enter.
By Said Hameed7 months ago in Criminal
Lies Carved in Stone
In the heart of the ancient kingdom of Virelia stood a monument unlike any other. A towering obelisk, obsidian black and etched with symbols too old to decipher, loomed over the square in the capital city of Iskareth. The locals called it the Pillar of Truth. For generations, people believed that the stone bore the laws and virtues upon which the kingdom was founded — justice, unity, and honor.
By Said Hameed7 months ago in Criminal
No Motive, No Mercy
The rain fell hard over Hollow Bridge, a small town nestled in the shadows of the Cascade Mountains. The kind of place where everyone knew everyone—or thought they did. Life moved slow there. Predictable. Until the night of the Hollow Bridge killings.
By Said Hameed7 months ago in Criminal
The Judas Witness
The wind howled over the desolate plains of Aeloria, sweeping the dust of forgotten empires across the blood-stained stones. In the ruined chapel of Saint Kallan, a lone man knelt before a shattered altar. His name was Varek, once a priest, now a hunted man. In his trembling hands, he held the Judas Witness—a small, obsidian relic etched with runes too ancient for memory.
By Said Hameed7 months ago in Criminal
The Final Signal
The rain hammered down relentlessly, drumming against the windows of the sprawling bungalow nestled in Lahore’s upscale Gulberg district. Outside, the streets glistened under flickering streetlights, the city’s restless heart still beating even in the dead of night. Inside, however, a chilling silence reigned.
By Ameer Gull7 months ago in Criminal
Cold Case Cathedral
Detective Elise Marlowe stood at the foot of St. Bartholomew’s Cathedral, watching as winter light slanted across its stone towers. It was just after dawn, and mist rolled low around the steps, blurring the carved saints and angels that loomed overhead. The cathedral bells began their mournful toll, sending tremors through the frost-covered air.
By Said Hameed7 months ago in Criminal
The Corpse Code
In the neon glare of Sector 12, rain sluiced off high glass towers and trickled into narrow alleys where secrets lay in wait. Detective Mira Han zipped her leather coat up to her chin, her cybernetic eye scanning through data streams only she could see.
By Said Hameed7 months ago in Criminal
Ashes of the Innocent
The wind carried the scent of burning wood and something far more bitter—ashes of the innocent. A grey haze hovered over the ruined village of Elmsreach, where homes once stood proudly, gardens bloomed with lavender, and children’s laughter echoed through cobbled streets. Now, silence ruled. A heavy, accusatory silence that weighed on the shoulders of the lone survivor.
By Said Hameed7 months ago in Criminal
Poison in the Prayer Book
The year was 1523, and the air in the Abbey of Saint Margaret was thick with the scent of incense and damp stone. Tucked high in the Cotswold Hills, the abbey had weathered the storms of kings and commoners alike. Within its cloistered walls, the brothers followed the Benedictine rule, their days marked by silence, prayer, and routine.
By Said Hameed7 months ago in Criminal
The House Across the Street Hasn’t Turned Off Its Porch Light in Months. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
I first noticed in September. The warm glow spilling onto the empty porch night after night, cutting through the early autumn dark. I assumed someone had forgotten, or maybe they liked the security, the illusion of presence.
By Jesse Shelley7 months ago in Criminal
