fiction
Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
Midnight Train
Clickity clack get off the track. Clickity clack get off the track. What started as a faint hum was growing louder. Clickity clack get off the track. As the train rounded the corner and the high beams roared through the darkness. Clickity clack get off the track. The train screaming clickity clack get off the track.
Gen HodgsonPublished 3 years ago in CriminalEncryption
Three carefree tweens ride their bikes through a quiet suburban neighborhood. Laughing, they drop their bikes in the driveway and wave hello to Johnny, their next-door neighbor. Comforted by the subdivision's family-oriented nature, Johnny's reminded why he chose to rent a house instead of a dingy college apartment. He pops off his hammock and runs inside to grab his laptop. As he enters the hallway he can hear faint typing traveling from his roommate, Penelopes' den. The room is dark, blurred code reflects on her glasses. Johnny leans on the doorway "Yo! I'm heading to the library if you want to emerge from hibernation today." Without looking up, Penelope mumbles, "Yeah, okay, cool." Johnny shrugs and turns to his room just before bumping shoulders with Rajeima. "Hey! Watch out Goldie locks!" Rajeima throws her hands up jokingly, "Running 'round here like someone's after ya." Johnny gives a forced smirk and ducks off into his room. Rajeima yells through his doorway, "Don't forget it's trash day!" Stepping front and center into Penelopes' room, "Hey Einstein, how is that project coming along?" As soon as Penelope opens her mouth to answer, a flashbang crashes through the living room window.
Mariah SymonePublished 3 years ago in CriminalThe Finding
He was out on his usual rounds, The Guard. And yet now he was hesitant. He came around the building and could hear the protest in the distance. A great wailing and crashing of the mob in and animal rage. He could understand their point, and agreed that the police didn’t automatically have the right to resort to violence. The crowd seemed to be destroying shops in the downtown area about a quarter mile off. He didn’t like this but he did shrug, because he could understand their rage.
Steven ParkerPublished 3 years ago in CriminalYou Got This Houdini
I was up a while looking for what clothes to wear this day when I heard a knock at the door thinking hmm bit early for visitors the front door opens and footsteps walking down the hall then a familiar sounding hello? Holy Shit it’s the prodigal son I froze for a moment before jumping back into bed pretending to be asleep as the footsteps grew closer there was another hello my bedroom door opened I stirred and slowly opened my eyes
Karma GirlPublished 3 years ago in CriminalRuined
The icy gusts of wind made her tremble uncontrollably. Miriam drew her beanie down over her ears and tried to rub the ache away. She longed to just be at home – with her homemade pumpkin soup, her knitting, her books, her cat Tiggy and her cheap heater she could barely afford to run. She waited at the bus stop – a solitary figure – and tilted her head to the menacing, grey sky to try to blow smoke rings with the condensation of her breath. I wonder if babies conceived out of love grow up to be happier, more prosperous adults than babies borne from a one night stand… How could we obtain the empirical data for this research? Would the study group…? She shook the musings from her head and slumped.
Kerrie-Chelle WebsterPublished 3 years ago in CriminalA True McEvoy
The old house is draughty without the old man around, ordering maids to clean faster or for me to stand taller. So I sit outside on the green hill, feeling the sea breeze brush against me and the sun warm my face. I gaze over the estate with it’s tennis courts and balconies, neatly cut hedges and blue tiled swimming pool. That will be mine and so will the rest of the money once I do what must be done. It will be mine, not hers.
Maia LaffertyPublished 3 years ago in CriminalTo Save or To Steal
Hungry. I felt hungry. But not for a cheeseburger or pasta salad. I felt hungry for something more. Something more in this dull world that could be mine. I wanted to earn something, to be daring, to do something people only dream about. I was craving adrenaline. After this boring routine, it felt almost as necessary as sleep, even more so, like a release.
Miranda BowronPublished 3 years ago in Criminal"The Little Black Book of Betrayal"
It was 11pm, I had just laid down on my bed after an exhausting day of work and food preparation. My phone began to ring. I glanced at my cell phone that was placed on my nightstand and saw it was Star calling me again! I was drained from her constant venting about her messy marriage, I needed a break so I deliberately ignore her call. Suddenly, I hear banging on my door, with her voice saying, “Brittney open the door, I need to speak to you now!” I get up from my bed and open the door. Immediately after opening the door I notice the frantic look on her face. Startled I yell out “Star, What is going on?” she quickly enters my apartment and shuts the door. “Brittney, I have just learned of something horrendous; you are the only one I can trust!”
Brenda AlvaradoPublished 3 years ago in CriminalLife-Buster
Norman uses his left hand to calm the frenetic shaking of his right, staring intently at the coffee shop ahead of him. From the passenger seat, Bianca kicks up her combat boots on the dashboard of their black SUV. She looks over at Norman.
John WhitfieldPublished 3 years ago in CriminalTo Marlin
Nowadays I wonder what awful thing I had done to Georgiana to make her so adamant that you and I “simply had to meet, Mia, my god. You’d be perfect together.”
Lucía
Friday night around 11 pm. The moon shines bright over endless fields. Gale. Roman lies inert on the floor after being beaten by four men.
Kimberly OropezaPublished 3 years ago in CriminalThe Budding Flower and the Withered Rose
In her last days I used to stand at the threshold to my mother’s room and watch her, so small under the blankets. She was always staring out the windows, looking past the droplets of water that slid down the glass and out at her rose bushes. Those flowers had been her every joy and pleasure; she would bury herself in the colours and scents whenever life troubled her. She would watch them grow as the tumour grew within her. I think she was contemplating what was to come next; what would happen? Where would she go? I never cried, which was maybe not so good, not even when one morning she didn’t wake up. There was an excruciating hollow pain inside of me like something was missing. I’d cared for her as best I could and that’s why it hurt so much when she died. My best wasn’t enough.
Jarrah BehrmannPublished 3 years ago in Criminal