fiction
Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
The Rose Room
The day began as any another day did. Beatrice woke up, did her hour and a half ritual of getting ready for work, and left before the clock struck 8:00 A.M. Her life as an editor’s assistant was what she called “puzzle version.” Words—big and small, common and uncommon—crossed her vision each and every day., connecting her to things, places, people and ideas she never thought she could be connected to. She learned that certain things fit snug against her, and others placed themselves at a distance. A rare few confront her and inflict pain, leaving scars that will test the will of time with their permanence. Her life was consumed by words and all the feelings and emotions they could cause. She preferred it that way. To feel instead of experience. She’s done enough of that in her past. She’s done enough experiencing. Now . . . she's ready to live, truly live.
Samantha HeckPublished 3 years ago in CriminalRide
Low. That was the best way to describe myself just a week ago, and the years before that. So it's no wonder I did what I did.
Liane CarwardinePublished 3 years ago in CriminalMysterious Men & Thanksgiving Turkey
“Pass the potatoes please!” My sister called. I reached across the table to grab the warm bowl filled with mashed potatoes. It was Thanksgiving evening. My family was gathered around the table enjoying our Thanksgiving feast when we heard a soft knock at the door. My father looked to my mother quizzically as if to silently ask if she had invited anyone. She shook her head slightly in response. We all sat there quietly as she got up from the table to answer the door. Our curiosity was piqued. Who could it possibly be? We heard two voices as the door opened.
Kaitlyn SoftleyPublished 3 years ago in CriminalMemoir
I wish you would relax. I keep trying to tell you there’s no danger of me ever publishing a memoir, with or without you in it, because none of my memories are true. Never mind the little black notebook, please. Just ignore it. It’s not for publication because nothing in it ever happened.
Doug WestendorpPublished 3 years ago in CriminalCall Jade
This business trip was going to be epic! Blake couldn’t wait to show up at the hotel. His boys from the office were all arriving a few days early to get down and dirty before the slew of meetings on the agenda. VEGAS BABY!
Vicky DiMichelePublished 3 years ago in CriminalThe Daughter of the Mafia King
Enjoying the peaceful sounds of rain pouring outside while drinking a warm cup of tea. Yes, a terrible day turned around. Shay warming up my feet, curled in the blanket that I wrapped around my body. The sound of the TV loud, but not drowning out the rain. Slowly the sound of rain transformed into sounds of computers and orders.
The little black book
Tim stirred. Everything was black and he could not move his hands or legs. He tried to shout for help but what noise that came out was muffled. He realised his mouth was covered with some fabric that tasted of old fast food. Everything around him smelt of petrol and metal.
Drew BuddsPublished 3 years ago in CriminalThe Book
The cargo in the trunk was quiet. Either from accepting the inevitable or worse. Andrew Ruocco hoped it was the former. A light snowfall started just as he exited the highway. That wasn’t good either. The weather experts on the radio were calling for one hell of a nor’easter. The winter blizzard of 2017 as the media called it. But this kind of business followed the same adage of the postal service. Rain, snow, or shine, it had to be done.
Keith WeaverPublished 3 years ago in CriminalBooks Lead the Way
The seven alarms that she used to wake up each day for her job went off one-by-one, separated by 15 minutes of shallow sleep between. Just as she had been doing every workday for the previous 2 years, she shut them off and shut her eyes, wanting to stay comfortably in her bed rather than go into work. As the last alarm went off, she noticed the date – August 6. Her smile grew wide and she jumped out of bed to get ready.
A Binding Contract
It had become one of the central tenets of his new belief system and he hadn’t so far experienced anything that persuaded him to revise his opinion. All the same, he felt on the most basic level that unless there was at least a modicum of whimpering during the proceedings, he wasn’t doing the job properly. And it was a job, after all. Not in the traditional sense of the word, true, but he did receive payment in exchange for services, which enabled him to define it as such. And he did have a set of terms and conditions – notionally, anyway - to which he strictly adhered, as did his clients: 50% up front and 50% on completion. To him, this was more than a quirk; it was what gave the transaction validity, what turned something that could have been regarded as a mere hobby into a professional contract. Reconciling the end-to-end transaction also rationalised any reservations he may have had at the back of his mind. Not that there ever were any. Despite his initial anxiety, it turned out he had quite a talent for his work. Taking pride in the art of instilling a real fear in his prey - while not overdoing the physical damage - was an unexpected bonus.
M. A. RolliPublished 3 years ago in CriminalPainting from Nantucket
I was back from Nantucket renting a room in Casey’s house. She told me she needed the room for her sister, Pamela, who was back from college. If needed, I was welcome to the couch and we would make things work. I had little money and had just spent a good chunk of it on my trip to Nantucket where I created my most recent painting, a fishing scene of a fishing seine. My attempt at humor. I sell my paintings at the gallery. Earlier I had dropped off a few paintings for a big auction on Friday, including the one just completed. Hopefully I would get something. I saw my painting in a gallery ad in the paper and it looked nice.
Marilyn GlassPublished 3 years ago in CriminalA poisoned life...
Maybe it was the attention she had always craved or maybe it was due to her mother never showing her the love she so desperately longed for that set her on this path of destruction. Thinking back she knew once upon a time she had a good soul, a kind heart but now the bitterness, hate and resentment flowed through every fiber of her being and Barbara found it impossible to be either positive or happy.
Celice MareePublished 3 years ago in Criminal