fiction
Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
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I got a phone call last week, announcing my parents died in a car crash. Even though I've been estranged from them for more than a decade, the death of any family member is hard, regardless of your relationship with them. And this was two of my family members. The ones who raised me, taught me, and shaped me into who I am. Of course, all of that resulted in me disagreeing with them more often than not, which definitely wasn't their intention. But, I'm growing up in a generation who questions everything, including the way they were raised, the ideals passed down, and what we were subjected to at a young age. I learned I needed to give myself compassion before anyone else in order to survive these trying times.
By Weston Bradley5 years ago in Criminal
The Killer
I always wondered who my father really was. As a boy, I imagined he was great at playing catch, building sandcastles, flying kites. A stern-voiced, soft-hearted man like Frank the mechanic maybe, or my math teacher Mr. Wilson. One thing I knew for sure, he wasn’t a killer.
By Jason McSweeney5 years ago in Criminal
He Must Tell A Story He Never Can
It started on a Friday. Heavy, fibrous debris pouring from overcast skies. It looked like ash against the fluorescent glow of undercloud. But when it crossed the horizon, the darker background of trees and buildings revealed its true identity and color. Snow, white as the sky. It kept on until Sunday, covering everything, exaggerating every tree branch and fencepost. Then the sun cut through, bringing the temperature above freezing and the people from their homes. A couple walking in the park called the station to report something resembling a body uncovered by the melting snow.
By Ralph Palmieri5 years ago in Criminal
Grandma June
As I look out the car window on my way to grandmas funeral I am in disbelief she has gone. Grandma June wasn’t like your everyday grandma, she was a savage. I remember in my early 20s, I dated an older male whose name was Roger who started to control me, stalk me and became physically abusive. I found myself avoiding my family, friends and if I did leave the house I would cover up, wear oversized sunnies and be easily startled. Roger would make threats to kill my family and I, he would even threaten to kill my cat if we had an argument. I lost who I was, I became emotionally numb. The physical pain inflicted on me no longer hurt, the mental and emotional abuse started to become like a routine that the words he would say was as if it was scripted. I never had the courage to leave because this was my norm. I didn’t care what pain I endured, I just knew that if I left and he inflicted pain on my family that it would break me, I wanted to protect them.
By Alicia Wallace5 years ago in Criminal
Anna: the unexpected
It was at the beginning of spring, in the floral hills of Scandinavian lands. Every year my brother and I waited restlessly for spring to come. Picking flowers, catching butterflies, and playing in the compound of our home. Those were graceful days! If only our parents would let us go beyond the gate to play with other kids from our little town. Maybe I would have made a friend or two, someone close by to go to for comfort in times of trouble. I was never fond of those homeschool hours nor bodyguards who always walked with us everywhere. But it didn't matter anymore. Life as I knew it was over. Everything had just changed overnight. My father, my mother, and My father's lawyer, Mr. Olsen, his most trusted friend, were all gone. And my little brother was nowhere to be found.
By Anita Manir5 years ago in Criminal
To Krista With Love
Today was supposed to be a celebratory day, I worked so hard over the last 6 months to get to this point. The adrenaline rushed through my body and blood pumped in my ears. Tiny beads of sweat started to form on my upper lip and under the rim of my black beanie. My fingers flexed alongside the trigger of the .338 LM XS1 as my hand gripped the pistol grip. I lay flush against the floor, in the dark. The only light the night offered was the moon filtering through the shades. I checked the chamber to make sure I was loaded. That was a nervous habit I had always had a bad memory of. My target would not be arriving for another hour, I was practicing. Tonight had to go as planned, so much was riding on me pulling this off. Some people may be nervous to do something like this but I have become an addict. I think it’s the unknown, the mystery for me. To be completely honest I got bored! I know what you're thinking, how does someone get bored and end up holding a high powered rifle in the middle of the night dressed in all black waiting for a target. It’s not really a long story at all, I kind of laugh when I go over the details in my head. I placed the rifle in a safe spot in the room, a spot only I could get to. Tonight was my graduation, what I was graduating to I had no idea but I knew that the beginning had changed my life and I wanted more. Looking around this hotel room everything looks normal, nothing out of place absolutely pristine. That used to be my life, and it is still very much a part of my life but oh how things have changed. Let me take you back to my first mission. It was a regular day just like any other day. The kids were off to school and I was off to do grocery shopping while dad rushed off to work. I had one child in middle school and two in high school. Between school, after school and the weekends we were always on the go. When I pulled up to the grocery store I sat idle for a while. Sometimes this was the only time I got to myself to think without all the noise. I recognized all the familiar faces, smiling and waving at those that I knew. That day I was especially tired of all the noise. I wanted to find something just for me that I could focus on and enjoy. I got out of the car and made my way into the grocery store. About an hour later I was headed back out cart filled to the rim. Three growing boys in one house, they went through food as if it never existed. After getting the groceries in the trunk I went around to the front of the car and just before getting in noticed a little black book tucked under my windshield. It looked like one of those religious pamphlets that people usually leave when they don’t find you in your car to harass you. I plucked it out from under the windshield, chucked into one of the grocery bags in the back and made my way home listening to some smooth jazz. Once I got back home I put the food away and in the last bag was the little black book. I picked it up, put the bag away and headed to the sofa to relax before the boys got home. I poured myself some wine, and took a long sip. It’s 5 o’clock somewhere. I sat down and propped my feet up on the chaise. I flipped through a couple of pages and they were empty, strange. It wasn’t until I got to the 10th page there was a Safe deposit box number with the name of a bank written beneath. My only thought is that maybe someone thought they were putting something else under the windshield and placed this by accident. I didn’t even know who to return it to. I checked all the pages and nothing. It wasn’t until I got to the back of the book that I felt a harder covering protecting the inside of the book. I had to use the tip of my nail to get in to come up. Once I did there was print on the back of the inside cover. In cursive writing it said to Krista Stephens, with love the unknown. I dropped the book, you see I was Krista Stephens and I had no clue who this unknown was. I started to pace the floor. The kids wouldn’t be home for another 3 hours so maybe I could check the bank out. I grabbed my chrome book and went to google. The bank's name was Lamedia bank and it wasn’t located too far from me. It seemed to be a pretty small bank. I started to pace the floor again. After a moment I stopped and made the decision to go. I grabbed my keys, my purse and the little black book. I was sweating bullets, by the time I got to the bank I was drenched. I parked in the furthest parking spot from the door and tried to get myself together. I really had no idea what this was, for all I knew Jay could be planning a surprise he did things like this. If I didn’t check it out I would never know. I got out of the car, swung my purse on my shoulder, brushed my loc's back out of my face, straightened my dress and headed toward the entrance. Once inside the cool air from the ceiling fans help to dry some of my moisture. I pulled the little black book from my purse and made my way to a teller. It was pretty empty inside, only one other person was online so I stepped to the second teller. I said good morning and simply asked if I could get into my Safe deposit box. She asked for my ID and the safe deposit box number. In just a couple of key strokes we were on our way to the back. Once in the safe deposit room she pulled the box and said she would give me some privacy. I was a little nervous about opening it, I paced in front of it for about 5 minutes before I took the key and opened it. One I pulled the lid back and my mouth dropped. Inside was 20,000 dollars, A fake ID to the local water company, a credit card and two syringes filled with a clear liquid inside of them. Beneath all of that was a sheet of paper. I pulled it out and began to read, At the very top it stated Mission 1. To make a long story short at this juncture because time is tight lets just say I followed the instructions. We can get into why later, with my therapist. I followed in this order and did everything exactly as explained:
By PrettySavagePublishings5 years ago in Criminal
Vindication
Soot gray storm clouds glared down upon the bustling streets of New York City, releasing walls of water as if in vengeful fury. Perhaps they sensed Anya Elmcroft’s irate mood. The young woman in question strode through the throngs of people, easily clearing a path for herself as her dark mood seemed to manifest itself in her intense green eyes, daring people to block her way. Her previously neat brown hair was now matted down her back and her light blue jeans soggy with water. Sucking in a bitter breath, Anya focused on her now visible destination.
By Heidi Reid5 years ago in Criminal
The Urchin Who Would Not Drown
When cold saltwater enters a wound, it feels like shattering glass on the nerves. His bicep throbbed, the skin rubbed away by friction from the beam he’d clung onto for life. The debris around him bobbed calmly within the submerged hold of the small wooden ship. Amongst the fodder, the grey skin of the other fellows swirled in and out of the strips of bright light that shined through the slats of the deck. The ripples of their spines peaked above the surface of the water, covered in the wet ragged shirts, their funeral shrouds, limbs still chained to their bunks.
By Jeremy Cairns5 years ago in Criminal
