fiction

Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.

A Taste for Murder
“Contestants, you have 90 minutes. Let’s cook.” An angry hiss seared the air as the onions hit the pan. Too hot! She galvanised into action, snatched the pan from the heat, and shuffled the contents about.
By Hazel Hitchins8 years ago in Criminal
The Accident
I returned home with a smile on my face. A lovely date, it had been. As I had imagined, she was a beautiful girl; one of my dreams. Her laugh gives my chest a flutter and my fist clenches. I've always been a shy sort.
By Syntheri Gnosis8 years ago in Criminal
Hot Water
"Courage is being scared to death and saddling up anyway." —John Wayne Her boots slammed against the pavement as she made her way into the building, her service weapon in her hand and her finger poised on the trigger. She stepped forward with a paced caution, her eyes wide as she adjusted to the lighting. The building that towered around her was dark and musty, filling her with a damp chill, despite her gear. She wore a heavy Kevlar vest, a dark blue long-sleeved V-neck that snuggled her body. Black jeans hugged her legs, a heavy black belt buckling the waist close to her sharp hips. Her feet were clad in sleek black combat boots, the thick soles silent on the concrete, while the heavy breaths of her partner stirring the hair around her ears. She couldn't help but flinch as the A/C rattled to life, clanging through the air vents like a pin ball in an arcade machine. She raised her hand over her shoulder, motioning for her partner to move forward. Her eyes remained fixed on her path as he slid past her, his shoulder brushing hers. He was dressed in similar attire. She watched his dark silhouette as it became outlined against a cylindrical light that hung from the high vaulted ceiling. The hallway was long but narrow, various forms of boxes and crates stacked up alongside the walls. Seven men and four women followed closely behind her; she could hear their heavy footsteps and the shuffle of their guns as they adjusted their grips. Slight irritation shot through her, wishing her and her partner could have gone in solo. She halted as he stopped in front of her, a slight hang motion gesturing for her to wait.
By Harper White8 years ago in Criminal
Hot Water
"Initiative is doing the right thing without being told." Victor Hugo The sound of her heart best slammed against her head, echoing around the seemingly endless chasms of her soul. Everything around her was silent, the steady ringing in her ear dying down to a low buzz. Her hand jumped to her necklace, twisting the silver pendant around her finger. The harsh white light of the courtroom glinted on the horse pendant, a sharp glare catching the prosecutor's eye. The tall man blinked, and the glare was gone. Her other hand was balled in the soft fabric of her blue dress, wrinkling what her mother had carefully ironed hours before. Wavy, dirty blonde hair fell down her neck, ending in graceful swirls where it brushed along her shoulders. Her wide brown eyes were fixed ahead of her, her mouth dully responding to the questions being thrown at her.
By Harper White8 years ago in Criminal
Fate of Reality
Chen Song woke up to the sound of a deafening gunshot. After springing out of bed, he sprawled to the closet to grab his revolver. As Chen Song made his way down his four-story villa, flashes of his daughter raced through his mind. Memories of her childhood and the danger she might be in filled Chen Song with rage and anger.
By Toorjo Mishra8 years ago in Criminal
Lay's Office
Lay shifted, yawning behind the back of his hand before pushing to stand. When he opened the door to his office and peered into the mostly empty chairs of the waiting room, he was fractionally more awake. As it was late in the afternoon, there were only four people left for him to see and one had not arrived yet. No worries as it was not their time yet.
By William Hillson8 years ago in Criminal
Life Is Not What It Seems
Friday morning, in the suburbs of York, the sun was gloriously shining as we adequately filled the car with suitcases and other various items. “I love you. It’ll be fine once we’ve got away,” Jackson, my fiancé, says to me aspirated. I shrug and lean into him as he wraps his arms around me and kisses my forehead. “I love you too.”
By Rhiannon Hammett8 years ago in Criminal
Interrogation
Darkness, and the smell of damp cement. Of all the five senses he could use to describe this room, those were his favorite. He chuckled to himself, he found the situation almost drolling. The lights flash on and nearly blinded him, he hears the soft hum of the fluorescent bulbs and heavy footsteps.
By Ethan Greenberg8 years ago in Criminal
I Followed Him Home
I continued following him. Nothing out of the ordinary happened for around 15 minutes when he turned off into a thin path. My eyes began looking around at the path I had just started walking on, it was the first time I had been in that part of town; which wasn’t that weird as I only ever went to the town to go to school which was a 4 minute walk from the station. My gaze gravitated downwards. I looked at the broken path I was walking on. I noticed the pavement was littered with cracks and fractures which looked like wounds and scars of the earth. As soon I noticed these, I began attempting to avoid all of them. I hummed the tune of the common childhood poem, “step on a crack, you break your mothers back, step on a line you break your mother’s spine." I hopped and jumped over the lines engraved in payment, occasionally tripping over and stepping on a crack where I’d pretend I didn’t. That quickly became boring and I began walking normally again. It took around 30 seconds for my legs to regain rhythm and walk normally. It was then after my legs had regained their function, I looked at the sky. Due to it being October, the sun was nearly set. I used to devote October photographing the falling sun in all its hues. I swore I’d never see enough sunsets then. Turns out I had seen so many crimson skies under multi-colored leaves that I didn’t even stop to look. My brief gaze at the sky before my eyes began looking forwards once again made me feel sad, but not too sad because wasn’t that how the world worked? Beautiful things become ordinary—everything slowly becomes boring. Something that I noticed that didn’t go away though was sometimes the rising sun scared me. It was another irrational fear I had. I thought the sun was so big, and yet when it rose it didn’t make a sound—not even a whisper. It was nice how it lit up the entire world but it was scary that there was absolutely nothing I or anyone could do to stop it. It confused me why more people weren’t scared of the sun, when you think about it it was truly terrifying. If the sun ever decided to go away, so would the world.
By Reid8 years ago in Criminal
Shots Fired
Being an infamous, yet anonymous, sniper for the many gangs that riddled her city’s and the few surrounding cities’ streets was not the ideal job. She had to keep herself anonymous in order to hold normal relationships, or in case she ever decided to build a family. Amelia was good at what she did, though. She was never one to go home empty handed. She was practically a hired assassin after all. Gangs would hire her in order to take out people that stood in her way. She’d never pick a gang to fight for in the several gang wars that took place throughout the streets. She would never be able to get back out of that, no matter how good she was at running. Which is what got her here.
By Cheyenne Seyferth8 years ago in Criminal
London—1890
London—1890 Lydia Michaels was a petite girl with long flowing locks of dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. She lived with her father and her three brothers in a mansion in the middle of London. Since her father, Daniel Michaels was working for the Queen, her and her family had money. She wore tight corsets and stunning dresses every day of her life.
By Julia Barker8 years ago in Criminal
I Love and Hate You Part Two
Chapter 1 Monti drove up to the door of the restaurant, all the lights where off but I could see someone inside. "Stay here," I said to him as I opened the door. I silently opened the front door and moved in. I was at the kitchen when I heard talking.
By D'Naja Lynch8 years ago in Criminal