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Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
The Inheritance
The Inheritance Julian McKenney My ears rang, I couldn’t hear the doctor as his palm gripped my shoulder, almost pulling me back into reality. “I’m sorry Xander, he’s gone.”
Julian McKenneyPublished 3 years ago in CriminalOne Ticket Out
“...one necktie, one black leather belt, one pencil, broken in half, and one pocket sized notebook, empty.” The guard was flipping through the pages, enjoying his last moments of power over Inmate K04111. “Hell, that is one empty notebook. All that time, bet you really could’ve filled this thing up, huh Inmate?” Joseph finished buckling his belt and took the book from the guard. “Outmate.” he said. “The hell outta here, anyway. As soon as I get the money I had when y’all put me in here, that is.”
Published 3 years ago in CriminalCoffee Confession
There was a secret in the Spring Beans cafe that only Andy and a select few customers knew. It was there waiting, it’s black spine distinct enough for the curious, to be plucked from the coffee stained hand-me down books that lined the corner of the café. A confessional for the coffee addict and day dreamer who found themselves alone in the reading corner; With the bookshelf and cosy armchair and table facing toward the window it gave the customer a privacy the rest of the café lacked. Every evening, after locking up and saying goodbye to Michelle and Lucas, he would go and read the confessional. It was a ritual he delighted in. Taking the black leather book from the shelf, he would rub his fingers on the cover like a priest patting their bible.
Harley HollandPublished 3 years ago in CriminalThe Unwritten Bestseller
Someone must have taken Mary’s mind and made an exact copy of it, because without having told anyone ever, she was hearing it read out loud to her this very moment.
Mareike GraepelPublished 3 years ago in CriminalThe Gift
The Gift by Karen D. Hall The police officer hung up the phone before I did, I moved the phone from my ear and just looked at it. This can’t be right; it has to be some sort of mistake. I quickly shake off the shock, drop my phone in my pocket and get in my car. My heart is beginning to pound from excitement and this sunny day seems a whole lot brighter now.
Karen HallPublished 3 years ago in CriminalSmall Books, Big Money
It was Wednesday evening when Jerome was walking down Harmony Street. The sun was setting, and the sky was shades of fuchsia, peach, lavender and a dark reddish orange color. Usually, he loved to see it but not today, today he was sad and angry to see it. “Jerome ! Jerome !” He heard from down the street. When he turned around, he saw his homeboy Tran running up to him. Jerome and Tran had been best friends since they were babies. They were born two hours apart, in rooms next to each other since their mother’s had been in the maternity ward together. Since then, their families had become great friends, and Tran wanted Jerome to marry his sister Iesha.
Camdyn RedPublished 3 years ago in CriminalCalling my bluff
It had been a long night. Anna had left. And now here I was with Nick, Seb the kid, and Diego. I did not know much about Diego, but he had money.
The Organization
The Organization Gasping sharply, his mind rushing back to reality. A young man wakes up from a deep sleep, 3 minutes before his alarm goes off. His mind wanders and tries to remember his dreams. He hits his alarm right before the second beep. Hintaru Aikovich Okabe is a 19-year-old young man in his first year of university, who lives with his single mother. He is a ruggedly Handsome Boy with beautiful eyes and Natural dirty Blonde hair. His hair changes color in seasons, sometimes lighter in the warmer parts of the year, and dark in the winter months unless his hair gets wet in which case it turns almost black. His mother is a slender beautiful but strong Russian woman, who has raised him without a father since he was born, not even entertaining the idea of having a relationship. Her focus has always been to help her son succeed as his father did. His father was a respected Japanese businessman who died of an illness the same night Hintaru was born. Hintaru and his mother immigrated to Canada from Japan, some years after Hintaru’s father died. “Hurry up, if u do not eat right now, you won’t make it to school in time “his mother says. He smiles and kindly complains “MOM! You don’t have to treat me like I’m a kid”. His mother comes to the table and smothers him with a big hug, “I know son, but you will always be my little Ru”. He makes his way to the university in the fall, the 3rd of September. The beautiful blue sky radiates when it is not raining, he cherishes the simple beauty of a clear sky surrounded by mountains near a small but diverse metropolitan city in western Canada. After jumping off the bus his makes his way to campus and enjoys spending time with his schoolmates. His best friend Seth is an older man and senior student, he has been to numerous community colleges getting several different diplomas and prefers the school environment over the working environment. Seth is now in the IT program majoring in web security. Hintaru joins his economics class, regularly participates in debates and is mostly unaware of his influence on others, he regularly wins the debates, not simply by the amount of knowledge he has but by his ability to use the knowledge wisely. This makes him his professors’ favourite for most likely to succeed. At the end of his first week, he decides to take the bus only halfway home, to enjoy the afternoon walking.
Austin HedstromPublished 3 years ago in Criminal$10,000,000 & 7 Days To Live - Pt.1
MY FINAL WISH. WHO EVER FINDS THIS BOOK AND THIS MONEY, DO GOOD BY IT. WRITE DOWN WHAT YOU DO WITH IT IN THIS BOOK. PLEASE DO GOOD, BECAUSE IT WAS MEANT TO DO BAD. - S.S.
Emilio (Sleepy) SalinasPublished 3 years ago in CriminalNever like this
OK, one last cocktail. She felt like having another Mai Tai. It’s pretty hard, she only had three and was already more than tipsy. We’ve got something to celebrate after all. I should have gone for a tad lighter drink though. I’ll still have to get rid of that annoying journalist as well. One last sip, she finished the drink and tried to stand up from the inconveniently low armchair preserving as much dignity as possible. She looked around but no one seemed to notice or pay attention to her. A coffee will be great! No, perhaps it’s too late for that.
Greg LipocziPublished 3 years ago in CriminalThe Small Black Book
There I was, sitting on my sofa, looking at myself through the reflection of my TV screen. What a failure I am ...for the 150th time. I just found out that I got rejected on a book I wrote and submitted to an agency that hates me or my ideas ...oh I'm a writer by the way ...and from what I know, not a very good one. This story that I just worked on and submitted to the agency meant a lot to me. I thought it'll be my big break ...just like all the other stories I submitted and got rejected in the past. What do I do now? I'm a failure at what I thought I did best, at what I thought was going to change my life, was going to make me rich. I always thought I was going to be the next Jerimiah Munitz. The greatest, most successful writer ever to live. He is the William Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, H.P. Lovecraft of our time. All of his books make MILLIONS, all agencies love him, FREAKING Hollywood loves him. Every writer wants to be him. I want to be him. But I guess I have to accept it. I'm no Jerimiah Munitz. He's a dream that can never happen ...for me anyway. As I brood away on this sofa and my reflection on the TV screen, my phone interrupts me... I never hated the sound of my ringtone more, and the only thing to make it stop is to answer it or reject it. I slide my hands in my ever-so-tight denim jeans pocket to retrieve the phone. ...hmm I've never been called by an unknown number before. Although I hate this ringtone so much right now, I'm attempting to reject this call, but I do want to find out who's calling me ...oh well, I swipe up with my thumb to answer the call.
Maahi AzizPublished 3 years ago in CriminalRoom 614
The phone rang and I frowned. I was exhausted. It was New Year’s Day 1993. Actually, it was New Year’s Morning, since it was 2:45 a.m. I knew the time because it displayed on the wall-mounted black digital phone along with the room number, 614.
Bryan W. ConwayPublished 3 years ago in Criminal