fiction
Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
A Stalker's Tale
As I stand here in this dirty room with a gun in my right hand and the man I killed laying on the ground with blood all over him and some of his dirty blood on me, I think back to what I just did, what I have done and what I have become. To be very honest, in my eyes this man deserved to die. He’s a dirty thief, a low life, a mere salesman, who does he think he is with his charming way of talking. He is lower than me. I am better than him in every way. I guess you could say I have a god complex. It’s one of the many things I talk to my psychiatrist about. Oh is she going to be mad when she finds out her predictions were right. She knew all along I was a danger to her and that I might kill someday (not the psychiatrist) but little did she know I would kill for her. Who, you might ask is this woman I might kill for is… not my psychiatrist… the woman I love.
Solving My Own Murder
I was pushed. That's all I remember. But my autopsy shows I was shot in the head. Why can't I remember being shot? Why do I only remember being pushed? I woke up in panic, scared and annoyed. It's like my day is repeating itself.
Taiesha SmithPublished 7 years ago in CriminalSunday Night
It's late on a Sunday. Her blood flows from her dying body on to the kitchen floor like water from a faucet. He stands there frozen, unsure of what to do as his little sister bleeds from the knife wound in her chest. The knife falls as if in slow motion from his hands to the floor, creating a loud thud as it makes contact with the ground between his shaking legs and her limp arm.
Lauren WhitneyPublished 7 years ago in CriminalBlack Widow, Part Two
Jack and I were on our regular patrol when dispatch came over the cb. "Jack, Murphy, come in..." "We're here. What's the news Darcy?"
Holly ReinhardtPublished 7 years ago in CriminalA Death in the Cold
A sharp wind battered her barren face, her hair whipping into a golden torrent behind her. Her icy blue eyes reflected the snowy hills before her. She trudged steadily up the wooded path, her gray cloak held tightly around her by her gloved hands. The cold air made red her cheeks and dry her lips; she continued on. Her black boots, although tied tightly and insulated quite well, had taken on water over the course of her journey and her once-dry wool socks, now saturated with water, left her toes begging for warmth. She pressed on.
Daniel ByronPublished 7 years ago in CriminalBlack Widow
It was a rainy August night when I got the call. It was my partner Jack. "We got another one." Another one, I thought, we just got back home from a 16 hour shift.
Holly ReinhardtPublished 7 years ago in CriminalGreen Eyes
What would you do if you were in the wrong place at the wrong time? Green Eyes Walking on the scorching hot sand beneath my feet on a beautiful sunlit day, the atmosphere couldn't be better. My older brother and his wife walking down the beach on a mission to find ice cream and refreshments. Aunt Sarah sunbathing, although revealing a little too much. Her 2 kids: Lauren and Aaron, playing with their dog, down near the rock pools. And then me.
Chloe RobertsonPublished 7 years ago in CriminalCastles
Prologue The September air is brisk as it hits midnight in my small town of Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. I look out the window at the full moon wishing I was there. Maybe I’d be happier there than here. I look over to my empty bed. It's covered with a duffle bag and a diaper bag. I finally decide to finish packing my things.
Celine UrbinPublished 7 years ago in CriminalConfrontation Before Departure
When she came back to her senses, her vision was still dark. Am I dead? She thought. She tried to move her hands and felt a strong grip on them. Her hands were struggling with a tight fabric. Her sense of smell appeared. The scent of something strongly acidic entered her nostrils. Her tongue involuntarily licked her lips and registered a taste of cold chocolate. She then realized that she had lipstick on.
Sam WijesinghePublished 7 years ago in CriminalA Strange Encounter
Minding my own business, I proceeded down the long path. Hands in my pockets, to keep them from the cold, I walked with a mission towards the bus stop. It was a typical winter's day and I, being the "diligent" human being, forgot my winter clothes. I justified this mistake by saying: "It was warm and bright this morning," even though it was the middle of September.
Lorraine Mc GuinnessPublished 7 years ago in CriminalI Play in the Key of Fission (Part 2)
Authors Note: Read Part 1 Here It had been six months since Richard Cummings PhD had accepted his spot on the Philadelphia Philharmonic Symphony as a conductor. He had started out as an understudy but quickly rose in the ranks to lead conductor. The previous one had had an accident one night on the way home. At least that’s what Richard wanted everyone to think for now. Their opinion would change in the next four months after they had played for the President, and his bomb exploded into a mushroom cloud.
David ShorbPublished 7 years ago in CriminalThe Queen of Evidence
There’s a moment before you kill someone where you feel light as a feather and free as a bird. There’s no less cheesy way of putting it. Lots of people don’t know what it feels like, but I do. In that moment, when impulse takes over, lives don’t matter. The world doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Nothing. I’ll tell you what, man. You get a hell of a lot more sure of yourself after that moment—not just in taking life, but in living it. You’re not possessed by some demon. There’s no voice in your head. It’s just a moment.