fiction
Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
The Black Book Society
Lola wasn't what you would call a role model of her age. She didn't meet the minimum requirements of one that qualified as having a productive life. If someone were to create player stats to select her as an avatar they would read as:
The Mantis
The sky cries, wet and humid. I’m making my way through the crime scene, wondering how the hell something like this happened and I never noticed. How was this right under my nose, this whole time and I never knew? I am the lead detective. I was the one who figured out the murderer’s motive, the twisted reasons why. I was the one who should’ve figured this out, too.
Kirstyn MessickPublished 3 years ago in CriminalKept In Stitches
Melinda Andrews sat watching the news, where a story about a missing heiress named Savannah Hodges played. As the news anchor droned on, her mind began to drift. Melinda’s attention returned to the screen as the newsperson announced a $20,000 reward for information leading to Savannah’s return. The scene cut to a detective holding a small black notebook.
Jamie WilksPublished 3 years ago in CriminalSweet Tooth
“Alex” Her eyes darted around the room, checking there was no one within earshot. “Please” He let out a sigh. She could hear the depth of it, even from her end of the phone. “Honestly I don’t know anymore.”
Ria AtandaPublished 3 years ago in CriminalConfessions of the sugar fiend
Coffee in the morning. No better way to start a Sunday morning than a café, in a hidden nook of suburbia. Albeit there had been one error this morning, pushing the ‘PULL’ door, which had earned him a neat bump to the head, but that had been pre-coffee. A thing of the past. Journal open, pen primed, Tony had acquired a window seat with a vantage point of the entire street.
Kate ClearyPublished 3 years ago in CriminalLaura’s Promise
Laura’s Promise And the little black book There where a hundred pages of promises bond in Italian leather. The bookmark fasten to the book forever forgiving laid on the ink tear stained page of her worst unkept promise.
JD HelfertPublished 3 years ago in CriminalMr. Fenway
He always missed the turn. This part of town was flat and open, the streets laid out on a simple grid. Numbers ran east and west. Letters ran north and south. The house was only two turns off the freeway; right on 5th, then left on E Street. Yet Peter missed that right turn every time.
A misfortant circumstance
Present day Tiana was working 2 part time jobs and a seasonal one it was Christmas eve 2015 in Chicago, Illinois. She had been trying to save all year long to buy her 7 1/2 year old and 1 1/2 year old something for Christmas even if it was small, but landlord was financially raping her with rent and she was behind still. Tiana couldn't catch a break she started to lose hope. It was 9:30 at night and Tiana was closing up at her second job about to get ready to go home and relieve the babysitter for the night. She was walking home still had 9 blocks to go before she could rest and love on her babies. She wasn't looking forward to payday because she knew all that she made was already gone. It was another Christmas that she couldn't buy gifts she was hanging her head low as she started to cry. She just turned on to central and roosevelt going west she was completely immersed in her thoughts sulking in her feelings when she came across this little black book that was laying next to a dumpster. She picked up and opened it hoping to find a name and address to return it to its rightful owner. After opening the cover and looking on the last page and realized there was no way of knowing who it belonged to. So she tucked it away in her purse and hurried home to look it over and possibly turn it into the police station the next morning after dropping the kids off to school and heading to work. Once home and babysitter relieved and paid with the tips she made that evening, she decided to tuck her kids into bed and read them a bedtime story. Tiana couldn't get that little black book off her mind. She went sit on the couch with the book and started to go through the pages, you can say curiosity really killed the cat in this case. As she was going through it she noticed it was filled with numbers, dates and coordinates, unsure of what to make of it she kept going through it. She got to a page that was folded, it had an address that she recognized and without thinking, realizing it was hers and it had a drawing of her downstairs basement. Fear shot through her body as the blood drained from her face. She grabbed a flashlight and followed the description of her basement to where I'm guessing something was left, but not knowing how long ago this was created. Once reached the bottom stair of the basement, she saw this random hole in the wall and flashed her light into it. As she got closer she found a suitcase, so she put it on the ground and slowly opened it up. As the the lid of the suitcase went up she saw what was stacks of $100 bills, she felt dizzy almost wanting to faint. It was $20,000 that had been inside her basement, but for who knows how long. She searched the whole suitcase looking for a clue; a hint of who had left this here, then she noticed a tear in the upper left lining of the lid and something white and bloodstained sticking out. The blood was starting to drain from her face as she peeled back the material, in there she found a blood stained handkerchief with the initials G.V.A. curious about the initials. Who could that be? She pushed the thought in the back of her mind and kept searching until she found an envelope.
Tatiana CastillePublished 3 years ago in CriminalSecrets From the Past
Jack Robertson was rummaging through his father’s closet. All of his clothes needed to be given away and all of his stuff had to be cleaned out. Jack didn’t want to give up his father’s stuff but his mother did. She said that everything would remind her of him and she couldn’t bear that. Jack didn’t want to be the one to go through his stuff but his mother rarely did anything now, all she would do now was lie on the couch and stare at the TV dumbfounded. Jack’s mother had decided only two days after his father’s death that they were leaving. She believed that there were terrible ghosts that haunted the place and honestly, Jack believed it too.
Erica TsukishimaPublished 3 years ago in CriminalMisfiled
They’d interviewed the sheriff first. He said he’d listened to the old man's story, and his body cam played the footage back for them. On the screen was the long lanky neighbor and his disembodied voice floated to them from speakers hidden behind large stacks of mostly ignored files.
Devia VynePublished 3 years ago in CriminalIn the black
He stares down at me, pupils dark, eyes fixed. My eyes lock with his as my hand slowly reaches into my pocket. My fingers caress the smooth rounded edges of a small notebook, an unintentional act to protect the contents within it.
From the Book
“What is this?!” I shouted as I unassumingly stepped back into the dimly lit office to discover my best friend Lex with a heavy pistol sharply pointed at a man dressed in a dark grey suit, next to what looked to be a corpse flailed out on the thin blue carpet. At the alarming sound of my sudden outburst, the suited man snapped his focus to me, giving Lex an opportunity to tackle the man to the ground, knocking him unconscious. “Lex!” I shouted in a whisper. “Shhhhhh,” Lex began to rummage through the wooden desk in the corner of the room. “This wasn’t part of my plan by the way,” she informed me as if that made a difference. “What plan?!” Panic grew in my racing mind. Lex was ravenously tearing apart each drawer and component of the desk, eventually uncovering a false bottom in the last crooked drawer. “Isn’t this your business office? Are you looking for something?” Lex ignored me. Stowed in the drawer was a small brass key, and six digits on a small piece of brown stained scrap paper. There was a large towering bookshelf behind the desk housing a small iron safe, which Lex swiftly approached with the key, storing the numbered paper in her jacket pocket. “Are you supposed to be doing this, is this even your office?” Lex continued to ignore me, and opened the safe, quickly grabbing a thick stack of paper documents, along with a black leather case. “Go, now,” she whispered to me. “What do you mean, what about the bodies on the floor!” instead of answering me, again she ignored my questioning and shoved me out of the room, pulling me toward the back of the building.
Taylor CoughlinPublished 3 years ago in Criminal