fiction
Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
The Guy in the Corvette
The car had crawled out of the intersection, the barely attached front bumper scraping the tarmac as it labored onto the upcoming street. The machine banged, popped, and sputtered to a grinding halt in the middle of the road. One of the wheels, jutting out in a position opposite the rest, had finally spun lose its tire. There was a pained whirring as a result of excessive force on the gas pedal causing dense clouds of white smoke to rise up from the tailpipe. By some mad determination of the man in the driver’s seat, the car started moving again, a wobbling tire beneath it and a trail of fluid streaking the ground behind. He steered the groaning vehicle toward the curb alongside a Chevy dealership where he killed the engine of the black Corvette for the last time.
By Jesula Damas6 years ago in Criminal
The Idiot
The messenger bag hanging on the Bouncer’s right shoulder bounced against his side as he ran, it held textbooks and notebooks. He punched the air with his left hand and brought his watch close to his sweaty face. He clutched the watch with his right hand to steady it. Time was running out, he needed to catch the last train out of the city. The last thing he wanted was to spend another night at the 24 hour Carl’s Jr with the vagrants. He had nothing against them but it was impossible to sleep comfortably in there waiting until the station opened in the morning. The stench of rancid piss in the air was too much. The twenty-something year old, community college student by day, strip club bouncer by night, raced down the city sidewalk as a thick fog had begun to settle into the streets. His all black suit shimmered under the city lights. His dress shoes snapped against the cement. He regretted his decision earlier to work a bit longer for an extra cash tip buying a bottle of liquor and sneaking it in for one of the dancers. She had told him to keep the change as a tip. One dollar. Gee, thanks, Candy.
By Adrian Nava6 years ago in Criminal
My Black Book Secret
It was dark inside of Emily; her mind constantly raging with thoughts that could drag you down and keep you there for days. On this particular day, her mind felt exceptionally clouded as she sulked out of bed, through the mess of her studio, and into the bathroom.
By Not Available6 years ago in Criminal
Good-bye
Today is July 17, 1974. Everything is ready to go. The thought of what comes tomorrow morning is making it hard to sleep. It’s nearly 2:00 in the morning and I have to be out of here by 6:30. I’m keeping positive, it’s just another sleepless night for me.
By Elena Valdez6 years ago in Criminal
Old Times
Kate’s best, most reasonable, attainable dream home, was an aging castle of her own, in the quickly gentrifying neighborhood just east of downtown Kansas City, MO. There is even a national TV reality show about this area, called “Bargain Mansions”! In which a young blonde woman and her dad buy run down old Victorians, rehab it themselves and turn them into upscale Millennial Mansions.
By Sharon Cathers6 years ago in Criminal
Background 756
Hey, you know me. That guy you're always sitting across from on the subway, or bus or whatever you take. Or maybe you sit in your car or Uber alone to ponder your own life problems because you are just too good to see how much harder the rest of us have it. It doesn't matter how you get to where you go. Point is, I'm that guy. The one who is always in the background of everyone else's life. I see everything, and I draw it. I see everyone's happy little moments with their kids. I see guys yelling at their wives on the phone. Last week I saw someone call their husband only to have another woman answer. That was neat. I see people so concerned about what they are doing that day that they pay no mind to anyone else. Their day is all about them.
By Jeffrey Podany6 years ago in Criminal
