fiction
Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
The Castle Murder
Castles can be found all over the United Kingdom from Ireland to Wales and everywhere in-between. This murder took place in a remote castle towards the north of Scotland. This northern country has a rich history of Highlanders and knights, the English empire invaded centuries ago and battles between the realms pursued. There are many epic legends and tales from this time period, but today we are to explore an event that took place recently in early 2024. The murder happened at Scarlet Castle, which overlooked the huge lakes and countryside that stood beside the northern coast of Scotland. This place is beautiful, but unfortunately somebody chose to unleash all hell within this sacred place of ancient history. It was an English tourist on holiday in Scotland who was unfortunately killed, it was a gruesome end too, a sharp long sword had impaled the poor Englishman. The castle was crowded when he was found dead, at least fifty people saw the brutal death and screamed hysterically, fleeing the building as police were called onto the scene to investigate. It was as if a hundreds year old knight had resurfaced from the grave and acted upon his sworn vengeance against the English invader. Obviously that was not the real case, the truth was far less fantastical than that. It was more accurately a crime of hatred, still after all these centuries somebody was out for blood against those who invaded their land. Most people are not this petty or insane, but unfortunately some are. The staff who worked at Scarlet Castle were all interrogated. One of them was named Gregory Owens and he was a massive history buff, one that lied to the police saying he loved all tourists who came to visit the wonder, but when Detectives looked into his past, they soon came to learn the employee was not entirely honest with them. The man had posted many videos online discussing his hatred for the English, especially the Royal family and how he was an activist against the new King. Things weren't adding up, why would he say one thing online then the polar opposite to the police? It was clear that Gregory was hiding something. Was it him who was behind the murder? Detectives had good reason to investigate and summoned a warrant to enter the man's premises unannounced. Gregory was in work when they entered, in his large garage there was a collection of several different swords and shields from medieval era Scotland. It was all very interesting stuff, although things took a turn towards darkness when one of the long swords was laid out upon a table, a white cloth stained red was wrapped around the blade. This was clearly blood, perhaps this was the murder weapon the Detectives were looking for? So they stole the sword and examined it at the police station, the forensics discovered that the red liquid staining the sword and cloth did indeed belong to the murdered victim. Gregory had killed the English tourist at Scarlet Castle, there was no doubt about it. The killer was arrested at work, it was a big embarrassing show for him, just like the public execution he had showcased to all those poor innocent visitors at the wonder. Nobody would've thought that in this day and age, such horrors and barbaric slayings could still happen. Sadly that is the world we live in and that truly is depressing.
By Joseph Roy Wright12 months ago in Criminal
Murder at the theatre
Going to the cinema is a fun activity, one you can enjoy alone or with friends. It might just make for the perfect date or a good day out to spend with the family. Good times all around, even if the movie is a bit rubbish, at least you can laugh about how terrible it was afterwards in good company. Even so, sharing time with pals and the decent snacks in a comfy seat can be nice enough. Sometimes it's good just to get out of the house every now and then. It's very rare that a trip to the cinemas can be truly awful, most times it is an honestly great experience. However, there are cases that end in far worse than sad faces and disappointment, sometimes these things can end in murder, quite literally. That was the case with the Cabaret Theatre in Hollywood Boulevard, LA. It was the new premier for an action blockbuster film that (almost) everybody was excited to finally watch. It was supposedly a true story, one that depicted the mafia making moves in New York City, exposing real criminals and even celebrities who were in cahoots with the criminals. Obviously news of this film sent chills down the monsters spines, arrests had already been made and making their mistakes public knowledge was infuriating for the gang. The screenplay had been written by an undercover cop by the name of Leonard Jacob. He too was attending the premier, sitting mid center of the theatre beside the directors and big name actors and actresses who starred in the motion picture. It was roughly halfway through the flick that Leonard desperately needed to use the bathroom, despite already going right before the film started, he suddenly really had to relieve himself. He stood up quickly, racing past the audience, holding himself tightly so he wouldn't lose control, but before he even reached the men's toilets, he began to puke! Not just digested food, but blood and gore too. Somebody had poisoned him, the popcorn he ate had been laced with a toxic, tasteless liquid which eventually killed the poor man in hospital that very night. The film had stopped abruptly when Leonard was raced to hospital, police surrounded the building like a swarm of bees. Detective Harry Byrnes came to the theatre to investigate, questioning everyone who was there when Leonard was poisoned. The victim wasn't sat beside any strangers in the audience, so it couldn't have been his friends or movie industry partners that had laced his food. So, Harry figured it must've been a cinema employee who had tampered with his popcorn. Apparently a new member of staff had only recently been recruited and he was a strange character to apply for the role too. Where most who applied were young men or women, typically teenage university students studying film and media in-between working at the theatre. Of course not everyone who worked there was an aspiring student. There were older gentlemen and ladies too, but this latest member of the team was a hugely muscular built Italian American man, who was middle aged and may have loved the occasional mobster film but not much more. It was immediately obvious to Harry Byrnes that this character was suspicious. So he tried to interrogate him, but the new employee hit the detective and fled, Harry was stunned, but quickly regained his feet and chased after the man who had just confirmed the Detective's greatest suspicions. Harry raced after the murderer, exiting the theatre out the back before any of the police surrounding the building could catch him. "Stop!" Harry demanded. "Forget about it!" The gangster replied, running out onto the street and hijacking a nearby vehicle, driving away into the city. Harry commandeered another car, explaining to the driver he needed the vehicle for police business while holding up his badge. The driver surprisingly complied, exiting his car to allow Harry to drive it. "You better not scratch this beauty!" The car owner yelled as Harry chased down the killer. A thrilling police chase across LA began, like something out of the very film that had just been playing inside the theatre. This criminal was a skilled getaway driver, dodging traffic and swerving screaming pedestrians, but Harry was sure if he and the rest of the LAPD didn't stop this mad man soon, there would be more murder on the streets of Los Angeles that night! The police chase concluded with the killer crashing into a fancy clothes shop, smashing through the store windows. Fortunately everybody inside had dived out of the way of the collision. Harry was on the scene to arrest the killer, it was later proved that it was indeed him who was behind the death at the movies.
By Joseph Roy Wright12 months ago in Criminal
Mysterious Girl
Oh, no, no, no, this mysterious girl, you don't want her to get close to you, oh no. She'll likely kill you, oh yeah. That's right, this ain't no story about a mysterious lover on the beaches of beautiful Miami, but of a killer. One who stalks the night streets of New York City, when horny men drive down the darkest alleys looking for a easy fuck. A place full of degenerates and sleazy monsters. Where sin truly excels above all else. In the dinghy neon lit streets of this infested city, there is a prostitute who looks no different than any other beaten up, drugged out ho. However, she is one fine deadly woman, not someone you want to find in your bed. She is a strange, lethal vigilante, straight out of some dark, mature comic book for mature readers only. This mysterious girl is tall, beautiful and truly irresistible. She shines like a golden beacon in this shit stinking city of grime and crime. Those who've seen her may have even reconsidered their life paths, like witnessing an angel; some have suddenly chosen to turn their lives around and try being a decent human being for a change. Maybe it's just the sight of such majestic beauty found in such a dark and depressing place, witnessing her in this ugliness makes them want to seek a better life for some reason, perhaps they ultimately feel sorry for the poor damsel and wish to never hurt another diamond in the rough like that again. Those are the lucky ones, the guys (sometimes other women) who look upon her and turn back instead of pursue. Now, if you still choose to approach this mysterious girl, even after the sight of her makes you weep within this graffiti riddled cesspit, then you might just have a second chance of survival. That is, if you treat her right. Take the girl back to a nice hotel or even your home, don't try to sleep with her right away, but wine and dine her first, maybe then she'll appreciate you a little bit and let you have your way with her. The sex will be heavenly and maybe you'll even get her number and she'll fuck you again, another time, perhaps even for free. However, if you try to take advantage of her (like most crooks do), this mysterious girl won't play nice. She is the true predator, preying on big beast-like men that dare to abuse her, the lady knows martial arts and will quickly snap your neck, slice your throat or even castrate you within a moments notice. Hundreds of street scum have died by her hand over the many years, but she has never been caught. So you never know what mysterious girl you pick up in your car, even if you think they're just a nobody street whore, you might just end up dead if you're not too careful. Nobody knows why she does this, even when her friends ask, the mysterious girl refuses to respond. Perhaps she had a sister or best friend who was killed by a horn dog and now seeks revenge on all male abusers. Maybe she gets a kick out of killing them, it might be her turn on or maybe she just likes the challenge. It could be that she's suicidal, waiting for the one man who can finally defeat her in an even fight. No one truly knows who she really is, or what her real name actually is (as it seems to change per customer, she has called herself Angel, Fantasy, Ecstacy and Princess, all of which are obviously fake names designed to trigger men's arousal). All that is really known of her, is that she always cries after committing a murder, not in mourning of the men she's killed, but maybe they are tears of joy from ending such monstrous of men. Maybe killing them reminds her of a past trauma of hers.
By Joseph Roy Wright12 months ago in Criminal
The Collector
Everybody has a collection. Even if you believe you're not into the hobby, I guarantee you have a group of something or other. Perhaps you like books? I'm sure you have a bookshelf somewhere in your house, flat or bungalow. Ok, maybe you prefer to read for free online. That's understandable. Yet, you might have a video game console, I bet you got a collection of games to play on it, even if you only buy digital games, that's still a virtual library of them right? You might have a Kindle device full of ebooks, even if it's just two or three, even that is a small collection. You could even argue that owning a bunch of different socks is a collection. Most people probably don't collect things as a hobby, more accurately keep things that look nice and place them around the living room for decoration or convenience such as a collection of dining chairs for whenever you want to sit down. That's what the average Joe does, collects stuff without really thinking about it. However, this story isn't about the ordinary plain Jane, but Norman Mitchell, a collector of all things pop culture and antique. This man lived alone and wasn't very social, so he spent his money and time hoarding junk! That's putting it bluntly, because an old faded comic book might be meaningless to some, but to others it's a rare, vintage copy of a limited edition super hero story, that some might pay thousands of dollars for. A small kid might read it and throw it away, but a collector like Norman would practically frame it in a sealed bag, box or container and display it as a fabulous trophy upon his bedroom wall. That's exactly what Norman did, his rarest items were considered fabulous pieces of art, secured and locked away from human hands, yet visible to himself and anyone (there weren't many guests) who came to visit him. This man had stacks and stacks of boxed VHS tapes, vinyls, comics, rare leather bound books, mint condition action figures (still in their original packaging!) of every super hero or sci-fi character you could possibly imagine (literally, name even the most obscure, unknown, unpopular character and he'd probably own some variant of it), he had a collection of different watches, from bronze to gold; not just wrist watches either, but pocket watches too. Norman owned several retro gaming consoles, dating as far back as 1981. His whole house was a treasure trove of priceless collectables. Although Norman was incredibly shy, antisocial and introverted; this collector had developed an unwanted reputation as an Antique Vulture, somebody who swoops in and buys all the cool, rare stuff before anybody else has a chance to get their greedy hands on them. Norman seemed to have an extraordinary amount of wealth (many speculated that he flipped most of his rare collectables for huge profits, as he was often seen at pawnshops in and out of New York, either buying and selling), which meant that he very often outbidded most collectors at auctions, even those who miraculously out bought Norman would walk away paying way more for an item than it was even worth, or would ever be worth. Norman did this for years, no decades! All the way up to his late fifties, until one day he was nowhere to be seen. He stopped showing up at pawn shops, auctions ran properly with mixed buyers walking away happy and content with their purchases. Nobody in the antique community missed Norman, because the man never spoke to anyone, seemed rather impolite, snobby and always ran away with most of the best loot. Then one day, the newspapers ran a truly harrowing story, the headline read; "Infamous Antique Vulture, Norman Mitchell, found murdered in his private estate!" with a picture of the miserable old man, alive and well on the front cover sneering. It was a tasteless piece, even Norman's greatest enemies thought so too. He was a strange icon or legend in the Antique business. One not many liked, but a lot also admired or more accurately envied his success at collecting. He was truly the best of the best, even if he did piss everyone else off. What really mattered though was who exactly was behind this strange man's murder. There are a few clues that police tried to follow upon, but these ultimately led nowhere.
By Joseph Roy Wright12 months ago in Criminal
The Last Order
Ethan Cole had spent years navigating the darkest corners of the internet. A hacker by trade, he specialized in uncovering secrets people wanted buried. Blackmail, stolen databases, offshore accounts—nothing was truly hidden from someone who knew where to look. But tonight, he had gone too deep.
By Waqar Ahmad12 months ago in Criminal
U.S. Consumer Confidence Dips as Inflation Expectations Spike
As the new year unfolds, American consumers are feeling the weight of rising inflation expectations. The latest data from the University of Michigan’s Consumer Sentiment Index reveals a dip in confidence, driven by concerns about higher prices and economic uncertainty. With year-ahead inflation expectations reaching their highest level since May, the economic landscape is shifting—and not everyone is optimistic about what lies ahead.
By mureed hussain12 months ago in Criminal
The Silver Bullet
It is truly insane and bizarre what some would believe. There was a rumour a very long time ago, that Henry Miles was a werewolf. Now before you think this is a supernatural horror story, let me assure you that it is not. However, there are people out there who genuinely think terrifying monsters straight out of a Joseph Roy Wright horror novel are actually real. His books are just fun little horror stories (although for a mature audience, so if you're under 18 please leave, this story is too naughty for you!). In reality, there really is no such thing as ghosts, goblins or demons, but real monsters do exist. Those being serial killers and kidnappers, alongside other unspeakable criminals from cannibals to terrorists. The world is already a scary enough place without Werewolves and Vampires, don't you think? Unfortunately, that doesn't stop people from confusing fact from fiction. When Henry was rumoured to be a Werewolf, a few lunatics actually took it seriously. This was in 1891 and sadly many were still superstitious when it came to the occult and paranormal activity. We enjoy horror stories nowadays, reading about them in anthology books and online. It's all just a bit of thrilling fun as of 2025, however back then; when people talked of covens and witches, they genuinely believed it. Crazy to think, isn't it? To hear about green skinned women, flying on brooms with impossibly pointy noses. It all sounds so silly and dare I say childish, like a spooky campfire story you tell the kids on Halloween night or on a holiday camping trip in the woods. Yet in 1600, the people of Salem had actual witch trials in courts and everything. Bizarre. Well, that's what the people of the small American town of Wicket thought back in 1892 too, it all started when the outlaw named Little Ben began telling the locals that Henry Miles was a Werewolf! History tells us that Little Ben was a prankster as well as a gun tooting asshole! He told people at a church, that the priest was a demon in disguise and people believed that too, chasing the poor virgin down with wooden torches, screaming bible verses at the poor man of God who did no wrong. There are countless other cruel tales just like that, caused by the hands of evil Little Ben. However what makes the tale of Henry Miles so interesting, is that to this very day, nobody knows who actually killed him. I'm getting ahead of myself, because I haven't even explained how this poor man even died. It was on a hot summer's night, he was walking home from the nearby tavern, drunk as a shunk, slurring his words and stumbling everywhere. It was getting dark and all businesses were shut for the night. Then, at approximately one in the morning (approximately because nobody is alive today to confirm the story) three gunshots were heard, coming from a long range rifle (or so many guessed) waking the whole town up. On the third shot there was a horrifying scream! That of Henry Miles' final breath. Everyone awoke and walked out to investigate, Henry Miles was dead. Two of the gunshots missed, but the third landed directly into Henry's chest, destroying his heart, much like how a Vampire is killed with the wooden stake through their dark hearts. Some even celebrated his death, believing the Werewolf was slain. However their celebrations were shortly lived, as the town's Doctor (a man of science who even back then did not believe in such madness) pointed to the dark blue sky. There to everyone's horror was a full yellow moon, yet Henry was still human and his clothes had not ripped, proving to everyone once and for all that the Werewolf rumour was nothing but a cruel lie. Those who cheered his passing suddenly frowned, feeling guilty and utterly ashamed of themselves for even thinking such lunacy to begin with (perhaps one of them was the killer).
By Joseph Roy Wright12 months ago in Criminal
