fiction
Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
Twelve Months Rent and a Nandos for Two
I sat down, my handbag strap sliding down my arm and dropping my lip balm as it landed. The bus jerked as it set off and I accidentally knocked into the man sitting next to me. I rolled my eyes at him as if to say "We are all in this together: this jerking bus, this hellish commute, this rain, this baby crying, this Greggs sausage roll that I’m about to eat for breakfast". I think he understood exactly what my tired, puffy eyes were saying. He smiled at me and from that moment, I knew we were comrades, at least until one of us got off the bus. He looked about ten years older than me and was fairly handsome. I peeled the paper bag away from my sausage roll and took a bite, the flaky pastry sticking to my cheeks. I looked at the man as I wafted it off my face. He was engrossed in a small, black notebook.
By Mel Elliott5 years ago in Criminal
Departures
DEPARTURES Kendra Pierce wasn’t the worst client I ever represented. Not nearly. Heck, she wasn’t even the guiltiest. About a third of the times she’d been booked (that I know of) she hadn’t technically committed crimes. Herself, that is. In those cases, anyway. In about another third, she didn’t have to face the music because of what I call “police training deficiencies.” And up until this thing happened, I’d never dealt with the feds for anything about her. The worst, I’ve known. Kendra wasn’t that.
By Lance Hendrickson5 years ago in Criminal
"Butterfly"
Annabelle was dreaming. But they were not the whimsical, bright coloured dreams of a 10 year old child with not a worry in the world; There were no friendly woodland creatures or tiny, delicately winged women with slippers fashioned of pink blossoms. She did not find herself in a beflowered forest clearing with golden sunlight streaming through the foliage and the peaceful twitter of birdsong sounding through the tree-tops. Instead, she was in her bedroom, in the dark, with muffled yelling accosting her butterfly-charm-clad ears from the kitchen beneath the floor boards and a small sliver of yellow light creeping through the cracked door.
By Sienna Kelly5 years ago in Criminal
The Family
I sat alone at a little café and the mafia boss walked in, “Why are you wearing such nice shoes?” he asked nonchalantly “You won’t be walking anywhere anytime soon unless my notebook is returned”. I looked up at him and pulled out the black notebook “Safe and sound, he’s a kid sir he didn’t mean anything by it.”
By Liam Fitzgerald5 years ago in Criminal
