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Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
Baby Steps
You know the expression curiosity killed the cat? Well, for whatever reason, I decided to try out that theory. Stupid! I know! But the impulse was just too great. I could have walked away and acted like it was never there. I could have reported the break-in.
Jason HoppPublished 3 years ago in CriminalThe Receipt
Jack Jack searched frantically for the suitcase. He just couldn’t understand why Aimee was so adamant against lending it to his sister. Nora was responsible and the suitcase wasn’t even expensive. Why was she making such a big deal over something so small? He wanted to find the suitcase quickly before she woke. She was sleeping so soundly and he was relieved. She hadn’t been herself the last few days. His thoughts were interrupted with the burning question “WHERE IS THE SUITCASE!?!?”. Just then something fell down on him from the top shelf almost knocking him out of the closet. At this point he was tempted to buy a new suitcase for Nora. He managed to keep his balance and catch the bag but slipped on something that fell out of the bag and landed with a painful thud on the keys in his back pocket. That was the last straw and the straw that bought Nora a new suitcase. This just wasn’t worth it. He picked up the things that fell out of what he assumed to be Aimee’s bag that landed him on his now painful bottom. In the dim light of the closet he was still able to make out stacks of money. “What?!?!”, he whispered incredulously. He picked up five stacks of money and quickly shoved the bag open to find money and lots of it. The bag was full of money and a little black book. While the money was certainly exciting and confusing this one little black book in the middle of the bag of money held more intrigue. His heart was racing as he read the front of the book, Receipt. His mind went in so many directions. What could his fiancée be selling that was worth a bag of money. She was an undergrad student and a waitress and they usually had more bills than money. Just as he worked up the courage to open the book he heard Aimee tossing and turning so with his heart racing he opened it quickly. Page 1: Eyes - $1,000 Lungs - $15,000 (each) Liver - $50,000 Kidney -$15,000 Heart - $50,000 and so on. Jack dropped the book back into the bag. Who puts prices on body parts? Who is buying body parts? Who is selling body parts? Where are they getting the parts? What in the world does any of this have to do with Aimee? He heard her phone hit the floor and had to decide quickly what to do with the bag and its contents.
Jennifer HelmstetterPublished 3 years ago in Criminal“Creatures of the Night”
Usually it starts with a late-night phone call. In my business, we call it the 2 a.m. alert. At that hour, callers run the gamut from the drunk to the troubled cop to the screamer.
John W. WhiteheadPublished 3 years ago in CriminalThe Ohio Slayers
Every day I miss my best friend. The both of us just knew we'd make it out of our crummy small town in Ohio. It's been seven years and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about Mason. A tragic loss is hard to forget.
Ashlynne BuckleyPublished 3 years ago in CriminalSoi Cowboy
Isaac nervously tapped the side of his glass as he sat outside a bar in Soi Cowboy. His solitude was noticeable in this seedy district of Bangkok, as if the working girls had been instructed to give him a wide berth on this stormy night.
Ricky ChopraPublished 3 years ago in CriminalThe Quiet Child
As I set up camp for the night after collecting my payment from the village, I couldn’t help but reflect on the strange day. As I was wandering through town, I spotted a curious little girl. She was maybe 7 or 8. She was quiet and her face betrayed great sadness, but also strangely a positive and cheerful outlook on life. She never saw me, but I inquired about her with the villagers. They told me a story that was tragic, even for an orphan. When she was a toddler, her dad perished in a war. Then a few months later her mother and elder sister perished from a disease that ravaged the town. Her older brother was then killed a year later by thieves. She was then taken in by villagers who tolerated her, but only reluctantly. She was very… unique.
Austin Blessing-Nelson (Blessing)Published 3 years ago in CriminalCrooked
On Sundays Mr. Harvey sat by the pond in central park and sketched the trees. When the sun began to set he’d tuck his pencil inside his coat, wrap a band around his book, and make his way to the diner across the street from his apartment in Harlem.
Logan ReynoldsPublished 3 years ago in CriminalGrandmothers child
There was a girl named Olivia that lived in Cincinnati Ohio. She was 17 years old. Her grandmother helped raise her. Her mother was drug addicted and her father lived states away. Olivia’s grandmother was dying and for the past year she woke up everyday and wrote in a little black book she kept next to her bed. Olivia always asked and wondered what grandmother was writing in her book, but when she inquired about it grandmother told her “in due time”.
Cessalea MoorePublished 3 years ago in CriminalStreet Hustle
The thirteen-year-old girl, Princess, stood on the shadows of the streetlight. It was dark but it wasn’t entirely dark just yet. The sun had set, but the late-night hue still populated light throughout the darkened streets. She was one of his many street workers. The police came down a lot lighter, by law, for those under the legal age limits. This made them the perfect little soldiers. He had realized this quickly, and then had went on to further notice it was even more predominate with females. He was an adept entrepreneur, which means as soon as this was made obvious to him, he had immediately started recruiting exclusively girls. Now he had a small army of ten to fourteen-year-olds running his street corners.
Daryl BensonPublished 3 years ago in CriminalMy name is Clifton Porter
My name is Clifton Porter. I am a 63-year-old mechanic. I live in a shabby little apartment with a dirty, faded carpet, a stained yellow wall, and peeling white paint. I have a small window that I cannot open with bars on it. I have a television, but it's only got four channels. It also has a clock that doesn't keep time. I don't have a phone. I live off a small pension, and I have no family. I live alone.
Ms. Madison and the International Thief:
Ms. Madison and the International Thief: His Little Black Book of Secrets When the back door slammed, I wanted to run, but the big guy was standing by the front door. A few minutes ago, when I walked in from the barn, I didn’t expect anyone to greet me, especially a stranger. I just stood there by the stove (and the knives), waiting for someone to speak, and it wasn’t going to be me.
Janna BrunsPublished 3 years ago in CriminalGOA FIND IT
GOA FIND IT Its 2 am, its pouring rain, a man has just been shot and murdered in downtown Montreal. I woke up and I saw the news crew today, a crowd of people turned away, but I just have to look what the commotion was about. An unidentified man has been killed, police were scouting the area for clues, I kept walking a block away, and saw as little black notebook under the back of the bus bench, near the bush. I picked it up, it had a cross drawing, “Find my treasure, the one that understands it”, and also written on it was the name Notre-Dame de la Paix, there was blood on the last ripped page and number DCLXVI.
Daniel AlvarezPublished 3 years ago in Criminal