fact or fiction
Is it fact or merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores the myths and beliefs we hold about copycat killers, eyewitnesses testimony, what makes a murderer and more.
The Problem With Online Predator Catchers.
I am sure everyone remembers the old Facebook lives and videos of people who would pretend to be underage online to bait adults into explicit conversations then facilitating a meet up which would turn into a confrontation.
By YesItsMochaabout a year ago in Criminal
Justice is Due: The Atul Subhash Story — A Tragedy Buried Under Paperwork
About a month ago, on 9th December, Atul Subhash died of su****e Bengaluru. His body was found in his apartment in Munnekolalu, Bengaluru. He had an A4 sheet on his chest that read, Justice is due.
By 🕵️♂️ True Crime Enthusiast | Storyteller of the Dark Side 🔍about a year ago in Criminal
🌐 Digital Nostalgia: Why Lo-Fi Feels Like Memory . AI-Generated.
Open YouTube. Search “lofi beats to relax/study to.” There she is—the girl with the headphones, head down, lost in a book. A candle flickers. A cat sleeps. The sound? Soft, dusty, distant.
By The Yume Collectiveabout a year ago in Criminal
Humaira Asghar Ali Miserable Last Journey | Who is Responsible
Humaira Asghar was a young, talented model and theatre artist. A graduate of the prestigious National College of Arts in Lahore, she held a degree in Theatre and Sculpture and worked with respected names like Rafi Peer. She wasn’t an overnight sensation — she was trained, passionate, and determined to succeed on her own terms.
By 🕵️♂️ True Crime Enthusiast | Storyteller of the Dark Side 🔍about a year ago in Criminal
From Custody to Creativity — My Journey from Crime to Crafting Stories
There was a time in my early life when shadows stretched long and the thrill of rebellion clouded my better judgment. My journey began in a world most would shy away from—a life of crime that was as dangerous as it was short-lived. It wasn’t about the thrill, not really. It was about survival. But survival often demands a cost, and sooner or later, that bill arrives. Eventually, the path shifted. I found myself transitioning into a life less chaotic—behind a desk in the back office. It was a drastic shift, moving from the edge of society to the structured corridors of public service. My days were no longer filled with risk and adrenaline but with files, policies, and memos. I entered the world of security and custodial policy, a place where precision and order defined each day. Most of my time was dedicated to safeguarding systems, building frameworks to protect those who now walked the tightrope I once danced upon. There was a strange satisfaction in this—guiding others toward safety, helping them avoid the mistakes I had once made. But despite the new surroundings, some old habits persisted. My hands, once skilled in secrecy, were now busy on the keyboard. Key bashing continued—not for illicit plans but for writing reports, briefings, and correspondence. I became a bridge between ministers and institutions, offering advice on how to maintain custodial integrity. I was still part of a world that involved control, caution, and containment—but now, it was constructive. The rhythm of public service played on for years, until another transition called to me. As I approached the final act of my formal career, I pivoted one last time—reverting to private practice, yet again shifting identity. I wasn’t leaving security behind, but rather adapting it. This time, I offered protection not to inmates or policyholders but to entertainers, filmmakers, event organizers, and stars of the stage and screen. From VIP parties to film shoots, my expertise ensured safety where art met audience. The shift was unexpected, yet oddly fitting. Life had brought me full circle. From chaos to control, and now—into creativity. They say you don’t truly leave behind who you are—you evolve. And that’s exactly what happened. Amidst the noise of nightclubs and film sets, a quieter part of me began to speak. I turned my focus inward, and with nothing more than a keyboard and my imagination, I began to write—not reports, not policies—but fiction. My fingers, once used to form statements of fact, now painted images with metaphor and myth. My nine little literary soldiers—my fingers—became the tools of a new trade. No longer bound by regulations, I stepped into the world of ambiguity and emotion. I found myself drawn toward bardic pursuits—storytelling that echoed legends, myths, and the timeless truths of the human condition. I was no longer just a guardian of law or a servant of structure. I was becoming a storyteller, a writer of verse, and a weaver of dreams. Through this creative rebirth, I discovered that words could be both armor and art. Writing allowed me to explore the nuances of life—the grey areas that no policy ever addressed. I dove deep into the myths, legends, and poetic traditions, blending truth with imagination, structure with freedom. This is where my path has led me: from fact to fiction, from order to art, from custody to creativity. As I reflect, I realize this journey was never linear. It zigzagged through contrasts—crime and justice, silence and expression, discipline and passion. But perhaps that’s the beauty of it. We don’t always get to choose where we begin, but we do get to choose how we end. And so, here I am—at the edge of one chapter, the beginning of another. A writer shaped by a life that has seen both the bars of a cell and the boundless skies of imagination. A guardian turned guide. A protector turned poet. This is not just the end of my old life—it is the beginning of a new story.
By Umar Farooqabout a year ago in Criminal
🔇 The Power of Silence: Why What Isn’t Played Matters as Much as What Is . AI-Generated.
In music, sound is everything—or is it? At The Yume Collective, we know that sometimes silence speaks louder than notes. The pauses, the empty spaces, the moments when the music stops—these are the secret ingredients that give music its depth, emotion, and meaning.
By The Yume Collectiveabout a year ago in Criminal
The Broken Heart Killer: A Bangalore Cop’s Final Stand Against a Serial Murderer..
Bangalore is a city that rarely sleeps. Even during the monsoon rains, its narrow lanes stay alive with auto rickshaw horns, street food vendors shouting, and neon signs glowing in the wet night. But beneath this vibrant energy, something far darker was unfolding — a series of murders that left the city terrified.
By Ubaid Ur Rehmanabout a year ago in Criminal
“The South Calcutta Law College Assault: Power, Silence, and a Girl’s Fight for Justice”
June 25th, 2025 — South Calcutta Law College A horrific incident involving a 24-year-old law student shocked the entire city. It wasn’t just an assault on her life—it reignited nationwide outrage and fear. Because a similar tragedy had already occurred in this very city not long ago.
By 🕵️♂️ True Crime Enthusiast | Storyteller of the Dark Side 🔍about a year ago in Criminal
Vanished in Section Nine. AI-Generated.
The air in the Control Hub was sterile, tinged with the ever-present scent of ozone from the humming machinery. Deep beneath the surface of the Earth, buried inside the government's most classified research facility, lay Section Nine — a place few entered, and none ever left.
By Said Hameedabout a year ago in Criminal
Code Name: Guilt. AI-Generated.
The rain hadn’t stopped in three days. It slashed across the cracked windows of the safehouse in northern Berlin, masking the low hum of encrypted radios and the soft tapping of Agent Mara Voss’s fingers against her ceramic mug. The bitter taste of stale coffee didn’t bother her. After years in black ops, nothing did—except guilt.
By Said Hameedabout a year ago in Criminal
The Informant’s Widow. AI-Generated.
The rain hadn’t stopped in three days. Margaret Halloran stood at the window of her modest two-bedroom home on the outskirts of Belfast, watching the mist collect over the crumbling headstones of the graveyard across the lane. Somewhere beneath that ancient sod lay Michael Halloran, her husband of seventeen years, and the man everyone now called a traitor.
By Said Hameedabout a year ago in Criminal
