fiction
Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
An Act of Providence
The sun sneered down at me, mocking my chapped lips and cracked face. My aloneness overwhelmed me. It went on and on for miles in every direction. Still, I uttered a few hoarse cries for help, but the sandpaper my tongue had become muffled any noise I tried to make. Endlessly I deluded myself into hearing the approach of hoofbeats or booted footsteps, but there was only the sweeping sound of parched desert dust rustled by the wind.
By Justice Levine5 years ago in Criminal
When angels tread in blood
The Reverend Theo Littleworth had never been threatened with a pistol by a nun before, and so he was naturally at a loss as to how to react. The awkwardness of the situation was not helped by the fact that he was kneeling in an antique store over a prostrate man who appeared to be dead. That is to say, blood was flowing liberally from his chest and he had no pulse. His glanced around the antiquaries, many of them of a religious character, and his eyes rested briefly on a resin statuette of Saint Christopher carrying the infant Christ on his shoulders. He half-hoped it might provide some guidance, but it bore the expression of someone saying ‘Sorry mate.’
By Gary Campbell5 years ago in Criminal
I Don’t Have A Name
I live in the shadows as some may. Never had a home, even from infancy my parents decided to die before they could even give me a name. The small town in the boring old orphanage I grew up in has no real sentimentality in my life. I grew up wanting to travel, meet people all over the world, taste different foods, and listen to the sweet sound of music. The only thing I have ever kept in my life was my mothers pendent. My parents didn’t have much in their life. Well, at least that’s what I was told. I am pretty sure the government took over all of their assets and left me with just one small trinket.
By Kirsten Killeleagh5 years ago in Criminal
Mine
The ringing in his ears was deafening but he could still hear the struggle one the front porch heading down the stairs, banging of bodies on the exterior siding as the fight led out to the gate where the lifted truck waited. Seven carefully placed shots had left one unknown lump in the living room next to the bookshelf, splattered with blood and clothing pieces glued to the spines of conquered stories. A second dying body crawled screaming toward the front door begging not to be left behind as if the rapture had forgotten him. He stood up from the floor with a burpee motion and exchanged clips to the secondary one, grabbing his box of ammo immediately after from the dresser drawer. He can reload the other clip on his way to his truck, a skill he practiced for some reason as fun after watching each John Wick movie with full attention, which now in an unwanted event is being put to use without stumble. His jeans were still on from the day and he quickly threw on a hoodie from the same high school his son went to without losing a step toward the crawling stranger. He reached to his left pocket taking the knife off the dirt stained seam and with one hand opened it to expose a sharp yet worn blade, stepping on the random intruders back he slowly, almost grateful for the opportunity, stuck the blade into the left side of his neck using the serrated edge in a quick sawing motion upward and out the back half feeling the tip scratch the vertebrae just under the skull. Wiping the blade on his leg he grabbed his keys, put the knife back in his pocket and started to rush out the door after them.
By Daniel Robles5 years ago in Criminal
Cha Cha
Cha Cha Rojas, bombshell Latino in her late 20’s, bolts from the front door of the El Matador restaurant in Laredo, Texas, followed by other patrons. Cha Cha’s in a full out sprint down the sidewalk while other customers scramble to their cars or pick-ups. Sirens scream in the distance, closing in on the scene.
By Dave Haberman5 years ago in Criminal
Malicious Content
My Nanna died last week. Every Sunday I would walk the two-kilometre journey to her house to have Tea and listen to her tell me the stories of her youth. After the passing of my parents I was all she had left apart from my Cousin Arthur, but he never made the effort to visit as he would spend his days at the bar telling anyone who would listen about how if it wasn't for his ex-wife he could have made something of himself.
By Michael Lefevre5 years ago in Criminal
Names
It was always there. In the same exact spot. The edges of the little black notebook lined up so perfectly within the thin layer of dust on the desk, it made me wonder if he even used it anymore. Knowing Roger, he did. There was not a thing in his life that he didn’t have a use for, including me.
By Carrie Bohne Warren5 years ago in Criminal
Uncle Bill's Black Book
Uncle Bill had been in and out of prison his entire life. It’s not like he had a bad childhood, as my father turned out perfectly fine and always praised his parents for the job they did raising their children. No, Bill had just liked getting into trouble, and he did it well.
By Tyler Miller5 years ago in Criminal
Black & Green
Intro I was looking forward to this vacation. I haven’t taken any vacation time in over six years. None of us had any idea how this pandemic marked the beginning of the end of life as we knew it. Social Media was packed with posts from people talking about our “return to normal” which has yet to come.
By Karen Ferrian5 years ago in Criminal
