fiction
Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
Dinner Ticket
And that was when he sat on me LIKE A 50 kg. BAG OF CAT FOOD… how I would have loved to have a 50 kg. bag of cat food! But I didn’t. I didn’t even have an owner back then, so I was out on the street, a pretty little black cat…. I’m sorry, let me introduce myself and start my story properly.
By Saskatchewan Riley5 years ago in Criminal
The Little Black Book
The Little Black Book, The Jim Cooper Story Jim Cooper is an average man with an average life working on a regular Tuesday working his 9-5 at the Walgreens down the street from the Empire State Building. Jim had other things on his mind as well. He had been completely spaced out from work all day. He felt as if something odd was going to happen. Staring out the glass of the window watching the rain come down the window pane, waiting on his next customer, a homeless man walks up to him staring at him strangely. The man shakes of the cold from the outside and looks at Jim closely. Jim looks confused and proceeds to say “what can I get you sir?”. The man still stares as he proceeds to hand Jim this small little black book with absolutely no cover. Maybe it was a journal? Jim thought. Jim grabs the book and before he could ask any questions the homeless man runs away as fast as he could. Thinking it was just a simple joke and no one needed help in the store at the time Jim goes to put the book in his bag and proceeds to finish out his shift.
By Its Toriii5 years ago in Criminal
Uncle Rigby
My uncle Rigby is stuffing Splenda packets in his jacket pockets like it’s his birthright and the waitress, whose name is Mindy, looks over at us sadly from the other table. I give her an apologetic smile. Uncle Rigby takes a long sip of his tea and leans back in his chair.
By Carrie Clements5 years ago in Criminal
The Experiment
It never would have happened if they hadn’t decided to retile their bathroom. One thing led to another and before they knew it, they were completely re-doing the little bungalow they had just purchased as their first home together. Angela thought it would be fun. Her husband John thought it would be a hassle. But everything came to a grinding halt when, one Saturday afternoon as they were demolishing an unnecessary wall, a little black book tumbled out of the plaster, landing on the living room floor with a soft thud.
By Emily Gilbert5 years ago in Criminal
Irving's Money.
When you're raised in a small town in Alabama, you spend most of your time thinking about how to get out of there, or at least I did anyway. I never played the victim, but I damn sure I could have. Life was rough growing up and I was old enough and smart enough to leave it all behind now. I would daydream constantly about it. Living a life somewhere else seemed so much more exciting than just staying put like I had for so long. I entertained every fantasy that entered my mind, always plotting and scheming. I was willing to do whatever it took.
By Cody Joel Foster5 years ago in Criminal
Oregon Ducks, Not Geoducks
Travis sat in his first period class, Descisions. “A boring senior slack off class about boring life skills like writing checks, doing taxes, renting an apartment etc.,” is how he’d described it in his journal. When his teacher had urged them to write their post graduation intentions and to, “please share them with the folks sitting next to you,” Travis had responded with a hyperbolic sigh and exaggerated eye roll/chair slump then scrawled three giant, sloppy intentions in his spiral notebook, 1.College 2.Chicks 3.Snowboarding. But also worth noting, before anyone could notice, he slid his journal, a small, black, leather-bound Moleskine from his front pocket, scribbled a secretive 4th intention and slipped the notebook back in place. Travis then turned to Natalie, the neighbor he associated with her makeup-covered acne, and said “psh, so lame, right?”
By matt acosta5 years ago in Criminal
"Telling Time without the Ticking"
Franklin Mallory sat on his couch jittery and nervous, waiting for the woman across from him in his father’s chair to comment on the coffee. Abagail Hoffner sipped a minimal amount, hid her wincing well, and gave Franklin a gesture of ‘yum.’ “You don’t have to lie,” Frank said with the grin he had waited to use for twenty minutes. Russel Weiser was standing in the entrance to the hallway. “You knew my father,” Frank half-asked, half-claimed of Abby. “Sincere condolences. I should’ve said something sooner.” Frank raised his hands in a casual signal to halt the course of conversation. “No, it’s fine. Thank you.” One part general jumpiness was also equal parts eagerness to resolve the conundrum his father set upon him. Frank cut to the chase, “I’m sorry to be abrupt, but I need your help. I think I might be in trouble.”
By Taylor Merchant5 years ago in Criminal
