fiction
Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
Redeemed?
I am set to be released today. They say I’m reformed, that I am not a threat to society. But I really don’t want to be released. I don’t feel like I deserve it. I killed a man, and even though I have worked every day to better myself and to help others in an attempt to make up for what I did, nothing can ever make it right. The parole board is offering me mercy, they say I deserve it. But do I truly deserve it?
By Austin Blessing-Nelson (Blessing)5 years ago in Criminal
Land Of The Blind
Henry entered the main building at Churchill Downs. His presence at the track felt odd. He couldn't remember placing a bet in his entire life. Certainly not on something as unknowable as which thoroughbred might outrun others of its kind on any given day. He appreciated the magnificent beasts with their long, terribly slender legs and muscular bodies, but the only reason Henry was at Churchill Downs on the day the most famous horse race in America was being run, was because his uncle had come to this very place to attend this event for the last seven years of his life.
By Donna Snyder-Smith5 years ago in Criminal
Alexa's Intrigue
Alexa always liked to slide the shifter into neutral as she drove down Hill Road. The challenge was to time it so the pickup truck coasted to a stop right at the highway without touching the brakes. But today she braked about a half a block from the stop sign and rolled into the Old A&W parking lot.
By N. M. Sheedy5 years ago in Criminal
French Kisses
She was licking the envelopes repeatedly. In her mind, she knew he must be in a panic at this point but she couldn't clearly remember what it was that made this entire situation switch from bad to worse. The taste from the glue on the envelopes was starting to make her gag but she had already run out of time and knew that the envelopes needed to be sent or this plan would never work. It must have been two or three hundred envelopes at this point and to her this meant that she could finally lay this entire manner to rest. She could buy a ticket to no where and disappear as if this nightmare had never dragged her along. David, the night clerk at the motel was standing so close to the window that fog was starting to appear in circles on the pane glass from his breath. He had been standing there for more than an hour, checking his watch, and waiting for me to finish. I finally got to the last one and he mutters under his breath, "Finally." I knew he lost his patience with the matter but he knew I didn't have anyone else even if it meant that he didn't get to fully understand why I was doing this. I tried to explain but he insisted that the less he knew, the better and this is pretty much how it started. I called him about 3 hours before we met up downtown at the Motel across from the deli. I was just walking at the edge of the side walk avoiding people when I look down at the gutter hole and see what looks like a mannequin hand holding a small sweat stained note book. The book itself was old and had the impression of a paper clip embedded onto the side of it as if the paper clip had sat there for years. I took the last drag of my cigarette and bent over to grab it . When I opened it all of the pages were equally sweat stained and blank. I find things like this all of the time. Its a big city. People stuff all types of things into the gutter. How was I suppose to know I should have left it in that gutter to become someone's problem other than myself? How was I suppose to know that this sweat stained notebook would destroy any chances of a normal life? How would I have known? About eight minutes go by, and I'm still heading north on the main drag. This man comes up next to me and I couldn't help but feel like something wasn't right about his jagged smile. After another minute another man walks up close behind me and I do a double take because they both have the same face! Immediately my stomach turns upside down and that is when I feel them both grab me on each arm turning right in the alley between the pawnshop and that fancy lobster joint that no one can afford. Before I can speak a word, everything goes blank and I wake up in a room tied to a chair. The entire room was dimly lit and the walls were lined with money. So much money that a person wouldn't believe that it was real despite the obvious smell. My hands were barely tied, and finding this odd I bolt my left hand out of my ties and into my pocket with my phone in it. I had three missed calls from David but based on time it said , only about 45 minutes had passed since I was snatched. Snatched? Yeah, that feels like it describes it. I click on his name and press talk but were not about to talk about the small baggie of coke I was delivering to him to help expedite his graveyard shift. I had to tell him the truth. I was overall pretty calm to start but once I realized that he did not want the details. He wanted his blow and I wanted him to lend me a room at the motel for a while. We both Win. He showed up and did not believe his eyes. I laughed as his fidgety hands were nonchalantly grabbing stacks of cash and stuffing each one of his pockets. The trunk of his piss poor Honda Civic was empty so he helped me load it up fully with the closest bills we could grab. Each wad was roughly 5k but not each stack was the same because some had twenty's and some had fives. David wanted to leave but I needed a little more. I'm sure at this point I seemed as if I was selfish but my thought were racing and its not like I was going to keep the money. It looked like it wanted to rain and about a block from the motel was a little gas station and I waved him to pull into the parking lot. I asked the chick who was working to throw me a stack of the bags behind the counter. I had to get the money in some way. I decided tat I was going to send this money to any person who has ever helped me and that list was damn long. Davis snatched a few boxes of enveloped from th managemet office and started to fill them. I was like French kisses. Open one, fill it, lick it press it. Repeat. I had literally used all of my saliva and David stepped in for a few minutes to help. I was never picking up anything on the street again. Never.
By Desirea Nichols5 years ago in Criminal
"Coming into Riches"
Henry Albert Jones stood on the porch of his grandmother’s old rental house as he waited for the bus to pull up to take him off to school. He saw his friend, James Hall, come running up the street to his house. James said to Henry, “Did you hear they have a new math teacher this year at Winnfield Senior High School named Mr. Peters. He supposed to be a really hard teacher to make a passing grade in his class.” Henry just sighed and said, “James will things ever get better for kids like us.” James said, “What do you mean by that, Henry.” Henry said, “Kids who are stuck in poverty.” James replied, “With the right education, we can always get ahead.” Henry just looked surprised at his answer and said, “I suppose you’re right. However, everyone I know that graduated last year on our block just ended up staying here in Winnfield, Louisiana.” James replied, “You’re just talking crazy. My older sister said, ‘Mark went off to California and is doing great.’” Henry sighed and replied, “I heard he joined the army and they sent him to California.” James replied, “Why can’t you be positive.” Henry replied, “I can’t be positive with so much lack and no hope of coming out of this dead-end town.” Just then the bus pulled up to the corner and James told Henry, “Come on, Man, we have to catch the bus, so we don’t stay here, too.”
By Apo Frederick Abraham Richardson5 years ago in Criminal
Dark Streets
Eh, what difference does it make. I’m not crazy, VA wants to label me PTSD and for what? Because life is different at home now. You get excited about talk of patriotism and defending your country and talk to a recruiter. Of course being right out of high school you don’t realize they possess the same tactics as Joe down the road trying to convince you that a 1986 K-car is a classic with value
By Rafes Loft5 years ago in Criminal
The Porter Beer Murders
The Porter Beer Murders, By Eleanor Guerrero, CCN Senior Reporter I heard a scream-or was it the wheels of an elevated train nearby screeching? Go home, long day, was my first thought. I was not looking for trouble. But I instinctively stopped, pulled over and parked. There was no one on the street. I promised myself I would only stay seconds. I’m pretty brave usually but I’m not stupid. I walked quickly to the corner by the street where the scream seemed to come from and peered cautiously out.
By eleanor joan guerrero5 years ago in Criminal
The Cost of Medicine
The Cost of Medicine Constance sat on the green, vinyl covered couch. The waiting room was empty. The lighting from the windows made the room abnormally bright on a dreary day. It seems her mother’s cancer would need even more medication. The hardest part of battling a non-discriminatory illness is when the insurance runs out, but payment is demanded to continue the fight. You don’t bring a knife to a gun fight, and you can’t bring a modest bank account to an oncologist.
By Diana Evans5 years ago in Criminal
Exit 403
She had to pee. Bad. The road signs along the interstate seemed to mock her discomfort: “Gas/Food/Lodging. Exit 403. 10 miles.” Hadn’t she just passed a billboard that said the exit was coming up in 5 miles? What will the next one say: 20 Miles to Exit 403!? She was beginning to sweat. She wondered if anyone had ever died from an exploding bladder.
By Carolyn Manning5 years ago in Criminal
