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Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
Murder at the theatre
Going to the cinema is a fun activity, one you can enjoy alone or with friends. It might just make for the perfect date or a good day out to spend with the family. Good times all around, even if the movie is a bit rubbish, at least you can laugh about how terrible it was afterwards in good company. Even so, sharing time with pals and the decent snacks in a comfy seat can be nice enough. Sometimes it's good just to get out of the house every now and then. It's very rare that a trip to the cinemas can be truly awful, most times it is an honestly great experience. However, there are cases that end in far worse than sad faces and disappointment, sometimes these things can end in murder, quite literally. That was the case with the Cabaret Theatre in Hollywood Boulevard, LA. It was the new premier for an action blockbuster film that (almost) everybody was excited to finally watch. It was supposedly a true story, one that depicted the mafia making moves in New York City, exposing real criminals and even celebrities who were in cahoots with the criminals. Obviously news of this film sent chills down the monsters spines, arrests had already been made and making their mistakes public knowledge was infuriating for the gang. The screenplay had been written by an undercover cop by the name of Leonard Jacob. He too was attending the premier, sitting mid center of the theatre beside the directors and big name actors and actresses who starred in the motion picture. It was roughly halfway through the flick that Leonard desperately needed to use the bathroom, despite already going right before the film started, he suddenly really had to relieve himself. He stood up quickly, racing past the audience, holding himself tightly so he wouldn't lose control, but before he even reached the men's toilets, he began to puke! Not just digested food, but blood and gore too. Somebody had poisoned him, the popcorn he ate had been laced with a toxic, tasteless liquid which eventually killed the poor man in hospital that very night. The film had stopped abruptly when Leonard was raced to hospital, police surrounded the building like a swarm of bees. Detective Harry Byrnes came to the theatre to investigate, questioning everyone who was there when Leonard was poisoned. The victim wasn't sat beside any strangers in the audience, so it couldn't have been his friends or movie industry partners that had laced his food. So, Harry figured it must've been a cinema employee who had tampered with his popcorn. Apparently a new member of staff had only recently been recruited and he was a strange character to apply for the role too. Where most who applied were young men or women, typically teenage university students studying film and media in-between working at the theatre. Of course not everyone who worked there was an aspiring student. There were older gentlemen and ladies too, but this latest member of the team was a hugely muscular built Italian American man, who was middle aged and may have loved the occasional mobster film but not much more. It was immediately obvious to Harry Byrnes that this character was suspicious. So he tried to interrogate him, but the new employee hit the detective and fled, Harry was stunned, but quickly regained his feet and chased after the man who had just confirmed the Detective's greatest suspicions. Harry raced after the murderer, exiting the theatre out the back before any of the police surrounding the building could catch him. "Stop!" Harry demanded. "Forget about it!" The gangster replied, running out onto the street and hijacking a nearby vehicle, driving away into the city. Harry commandeered another car, explaining to the driver he needed the vehicle for police business while holding up his badge. The driver surprisingly complied, exiting his car to allow Harry to drive it. "You better not scratch this beauty!" The car owner yelled as Harry chased down the killer. A thrilling police chase across LA began, like something out of the very film that had just been playing inside the theatre. This criminal was a skilled getaway driver, dodging traffic and swerving screaming pedestrians, but Harry was sure if he and the rest of the LAPD didn't stop this mad man soon, there would be more murder on the streets of Los Angeles that night! The police chase concluded with the killer crashing into a fancy clothes shop, smashing through the store windows. Fortunately everybody inside had dived out of the way of the collision. Harry was on the scene to arrest the killer, it was later proved that it was indeed him who was behind the death at the movies.
By Joseph Roy Wright2 years ago in Criminal
Mysterious Girl
Oh, no, no, no, this mysterious girl, you don't want her to get close to you, oh no. She'll likely kill you, oh yeah. That's right, this ain't no story about a mysterious lover on the beaches of beautiful Miami, but of a killer. One who stalks the night streets of New York City, when horny men drive down the darkest alleys looking for a easy fuck. A place full of degenerates and sleazy monsters. Where sin truly excels above all else. In the dinghy neon lit streets of this infested city, there is a prostitute who looks no different than any other beaten up, drugged out ho. However, she is one fine deadly woman, not someone you want to find in your bed. She is a strange, lethal vigilante, straight out of some dark, mature comic book for mature readers only. This mysterious girl is tall, beautiful and truly irresistible. She shines like a golden beacon in this shit stinking city of grime and crime. Those who've seen her may have even reconsidered their life paths, like witnessing an angel; some have suddenly chosen to turn their lives around and try being a decent human being for a change. Maybe it's just the sight of such majestic beauty found in such a dark and depressing place, witnessing her in this ugliness makes them want to seek a better life for some reason, perhaps they ultimately feel sorry for the poor damsel and wish to never hurt another diamond in the rough like that again. Those are the lucky ones, the guys (sometimes other women) who look upon her and turn back instead of pursue. Now, if you still choose to approach this mysterious girl, even after the sight of her makes you weep within this graffiti riddled cesspit, then you might just have a second chance of survival. That is, if you treat her right. Take the girl back to a nice hotel or even your home, don't try to sleep with her right away, but wine and dine her first, maybe then she'll appreciate you a little bit and let you have your way with her. The sex will be heavenly and maybe you'll even get her number and she'll fuck you again, another time, perhaps even for free. However, if you try to take advantage of her (like most crooks do), this mysterious girl won't play nice. She is the true predator, preying on big beast-like men that dare to abuse her, the lady knows martial arts and will quickly snap your neck, slice your throat or even castrate you within a moments notice. Hundreds of street scum have died by her hand over the many years, but she has never been caught. So you never know what mysterious girl you pick up in your car, even if you think they're just a nobody street whore, you might just end up dead if you're not too careful. Nobody knows why she does this, even when her friends ask, the mysterious girl refuses to respond. Perhaps she had a sister or best friend who was killed by a horn dog and now seeks revenge on all male abusers. Maybe she gets a kick out of killing them, it might be her turn on or maybe she just likes the challenge. It could be that she's suicidal, waiting for the one man who can finally defeat her in an even fight. No one truly knows who she really is, or what her real name actually is (as it seems to change per customer, she has called herself Angel, Fantasy, Ecstacy and Princess, all of which are obviously fake names designed to trigger men's arousal). All that is really known of her, is that she always cries after committing a murder, not in mourning of the men she's killed, but maybe they are tears of joy from ending such monstrous of men. Maybe killing them reminds her of a past trauma of hers. Some say she's good for society; killing off New York's dirtiest rats. Others claim she is an out of control maniac, a sadistic sex feind who only seeks to wreck havoc among the city of New York. Considering the scum that ruin the Big Apple, I'm more inclined to believe the former.
By Joseph Roy Wright2 years ago in Criminal
The Collector
Everybody has a collection. Even if you believe you're not into the hobby, I guarantee you have a group of something or other. Perhaps you like books? I'm sure you have a bookshelf somewhere in your house, flat or bungalow. Ok, maybe you prefer to read for free online. That's understandable. Yet, you might have a video game console, I bet you got a collection of games to play on it, even if you only buy digital games, that's still a virtual library of them right? You might have a Kindle device full of ebooks, even if it's just two or three, even that is a small collection. You could even argue that owning a bunch of different socks is a collection. Most people probably don't collect things as a hobby, more accurately keep things that look nice and place them around the living room for decoration or convenience such as a collection of dining chairs for whenever you want to sit down. That's what the average Joe does, collects stuff without really thinking about it. However, this story isn't about the ordinary plain Jane, but Norman Mitchell, a collector of all things pop culture and antique. This man lived alone and wasn't very social, so he spent his money and time hoarding junk! That's putting it bluntly, because an old faded comic book might be meaningless to some, but to others it's a rare, vintage copy of a limited edition super hero story, that some might pay thousands of dollars for. A small kid might read it and throw it away, but a collector like Norman would practically frame it in a sealed bag, box or container and display it as a fabulous trophy upon his bedroom wall. That's exactly what Norman did, his rarest items were considered fabulous pieces of art, secured and locked away from human hands, yet visible to himself and anyone (there weren't many guests) who came to visit him. This man had stacks and stacks of boxed VHS tapes, vinyls, comics, rare leather bound books, mint condition action figures (still in their original packaging!) of every super hero or sci-fi character you could possibly imagine (literally, name even the most obscure, unknown, unpopular character and he'd probably own some variant of it), he had a collection of different watches, from bronze to gold; not just wrist watches either, but pocket watches too. Norman owned several retro gaming consoles, dating as far back as 1981. His whole house was a treasure trove of priceless collectables. Although Norman was incredibly shy, antisocial and introverted; this collector had developed an unwanted reputation as an Antique Vulture, somebody who swoops in and buys all the cool, rare stuff before anybody else has a chance to get their greedy hands on them. Norman seemed to have an extraordinary amount of wealth (many speculated that he flipped most of his rare collectables for huge profits, as he was often seen at pawnshops in and out of New York, either buying and selling), which meant that he very often outbidded most collectors at auctions, even those who miraculously out bought Norman would walk away paying way more for an item than it was even worth, or would ever be worth. Norman did this for years, no decades! All the way up to his late fifties, until one day he was nowhere to be seen. He stopped showing up at pawn shops, auctions ran properly with mixed buyers walking away happy and content with their purchases. Nobody in the antique community missed Norman, because the man never spoke to anyone, seemed rather impolite, snobby and always ran away with most of the best loot. Then one day, the newspapers ran a truly harrowing story, the headline read; "Infamous Antique Vulture, Norman Mitchell, found murdered in his private estate!" with a picture of the miserable old man, alive and well on the front cover sneering. It was a tasteless piece, even Norman's greatest enemies thought so too. He was a strange icon or legend in the Antique business. One not many liked, but a lot also admired or more accurately envied his success at collecting. He was truly the best of the best, even if he did piss everyone else off. What really mattered though was who exactly was behind this strange man's murder. There are a few clues that police tried to follow upon, but these ultimately led nowhere. These being: The killer didn't just murder Norman, he and a team of masked burglars also broke into his estate and stole almost everything that Norman had collected. Sometime before Norman's body was discovered, pawnshops all over the city were suddenly overstocked with extraordinarily rare goods, some of which were even proven to have belonged to Norman previously. The killer may not have even intended to kill Norman, instead this was simply a robbery gone horribly wrong. The surveillance cameras that surrounded Norman's estate had unfortunately been hacked and wiped clean of evidence, whoever had killed and stole from Norman knew exactly what they were doing, meaning this must've been planned well in advance. Not even New York's greatest detectives could track down these mysterious hackers and thieves. The mystery is still left unsolved to this very day.
By Joseph Roy Wright2 years ago in Criminal
The Last Order
Ethan Cole had spent years navigating the darkest corners of the internet. A hacker by trade, he specialized in uncovering secrets people wanted buried. Blackmail, stolen databases, offshore accounts—nothing was truly hidden from someone who knew where to look. But tonight, he had gone too deep.
By Waqar Ahmad2 years ago in Criminal
U.S. Consumer Confidence Dips as Inflation Expectations Spike
As the new year unfolds, American consumers are feeling the weight of rising inflation expectations. The latest data from the University of Michigan’s Consumer Sentiment Index reveals a dip in confidence, driven by concerns about higher prices and economic uncertainty. With year-ahead inflation expectations reaching their highest level since May, the economic landscape is shifting—and not everyone is optimistic about what lies ahead.
By mureed hussain2 years ago in Criminal
The Silver Bullet
It is truly insane and bizarre what some would believe. There was a rumour a very long time ago, that Henry Miles was a werewolf. Now before you think this is a supernatural horror story, let me assure you that it is not. However, there are people out there who genuinely think terrifying monsters straight out of a Joseph Roy Wright horror novel are actually real. His books are just fun little horror stories (although for a mature audience, so if you're under 18 please leave, this story is too naughty for you!). In reality, there really is no such thing as ghosts, goblins or demons, but real monsters do exist. Those being serial killers and kidnappers, alongside other unspeakable criminals from cannibals to terrorists. The world is already a scary enough place without Werewolves and Vampires, don't you think? Unfortunately, that doesn't stop people from confusing fact from fiction. When Henry was rumoured to be a Werewolf, a few lunatics actually took it seriously. This was in 1891 and sadly many were still superstitious when it came to the occult and paranormal activity. We enjoy horror stories nowadays, reading about them in anthology books and online. It's all just a bit of thrilling fun as of 2025, however back then; when people talked of covens and witches, they genuinely believed it. Crazy to think, isn't it? To hear about green skinned women, flying on brooms with impossibly pointy noses. It all sounds so silly and dare I say childish, like a spooky campfire story you tell the kids on Halloween night or on a holiday camping trip in the woods. Yet in 1600, the people of Salem had actual witch trials in courts and everything. Bizarre. Well, that's what the people of the small American town of Wicket thought back in 1892 too, it all started when the outlaw named Little Ben began telling the locals that Henry Miles was a Werewolf! History tells us that Little Ben was a prankster as well as a gun tooting asshole! He told people at a church, that the priest was a demon in disguise and people believed that too, chasing the poor virgin down with wooden torches, screaming bible verses at the poor man of God who did no wrong. There are countless other cruel tales just like that, caused by the hands of evil Little Ben. However what makes the tale of Henry Miles so interesting, is that to this very day, nobody knows who actually killed him. I'm getting ahead of myself, because I haven't even explained how this poor man even died. It was on a hot summer's night, he was walking home from the nearby tavern, drunk as a shunk, slurring his words and stumbling everywhere. It was getting dark and all businesses were shut for the night. Then, at approximately one in the morning (approximately because nobody is alive today to confirm the story) three gunshots were heard, coming from a long range rifle (or so many guessed) waking the whole town up. On the third shot there was a horrifying scream! That of Henry Miles' final breath. Everyone awoke and walked out to investigate, Henry Miles was dead. Two of the gunshots missed, but the third landed directly into Henry's chest, destroying his heart, much like how a Vampire is killed with the wooden stake through their dark hearts. Some even celebrated his death, believing the Werewolf was slain. However their celebrations were shortly lived, as the town's Doctor (a man of science who even back then did not believe in such madness) pointed to the dark blue sky. There to everyone's horror was a full yellow moon, yet Henry was still human and his clothes had not ripped, proving to everyone once and for all that the Werewolf rumour was nothing but a cruel lie. Those who cheered his passing suddenly frowned, feeling guilty and utterly ashamed of themselves for even thinking such lunacy to begin with (perhaps one of them was the killer).
By Joseph Roy Wright2 years ago in Criminal
Caution: Wet Floor
Being a janitor is tough. The higher ups always look down upon you and the hideous messes and smells you got to deal with on a daily basis are genuinely nauseating. I used to be a cleaner myself, it wasn't nice. Yet, this isn't a story about me and my shitty work experience, no it involves the workplace death of Stan West, who slipped and fell off a flight of stairs in a Runcorn warehouse. Stan smashed his head against the ground as he fell, bursting it open into an explosion of gore and blood. Ghastly! What a way to go, at least it was instantaneous. The poor man didn't feel a thing, perhaps fear as he fell and the uncertainty of survival but that was fleeting. A moment of panic before eternal slumber. There are worse ways to go, that's for certain. Now, what does any of this have to do with a janitor you may ask, well it is because the floor overlooking the whole warehouse was wet with soap, as if being recently mopped and cleaned of footprints. Now there is absolutely nothing wrong with keeping the workplace clean, none whatsoever. However, the janitor on duty had forgotten to do one crucial thing; leave a wet floor sign up! It is such a simple yet important thing to remember, believe me, I know. When you've got so many responsibilities as a warehouse cleaner, it is unfortunately very easy to forget the little things like leaving warning signs after cleaning up a spillage. With that in mind, the workplace death was investigated intensely. At first, everyone believed the incident was a terrible, unfortunate freak accident. That it could've happened to anyone. However, as detectives dug deeper and deeper into the case, they discovered that Stan West wasn't the nicest worker on the team. He was a ruthless supervisor, the type of guy who was too young to be in charge, which meant his ego often got the better of him. The dead man was only 23 years old and often had a mouth on him, as in he yelled and screamed a lot at his underlings, including the lowest of them all, the janitors. It was Lucas Red who was on duty as janitor the day Stan died. This was significant, because Stan seemed to have the biggest rivalry with Lucas who had worked for the company for almost ten years, while Stan had only recently started, ending his career two months into the job after his unfortunate passing. Lucas was well respected despite his rank among everyone else who worked there, mostly because the old geezer was polite and knew everyone who had been working at the place as long as him. Nobody liked the young, cocky university students who walked into these old workplaces and began barking orders. A lot of the time, these young smart asses made things worse instead of better and they always thought they knew best because of their fancy diplomas and degrees, etc. It is a common sight in warehouses like this, the veterans get on with the job because they know best, while the new bosses scream the place down trying to manage everything. It is a vicious cycle and Stan West was the worst of the worst. The very same day that Stan had died, he was barking orders at lower ranking staff members, most of which were even younger than him and allowed this abuse. Stan got high and mighty, demanding Lucas clean up after their mess. The janitor did as he was told begrudgingly, then an hour or two later, he forgot to leave a wet floor sign outside of Stan's office, which was on the second floor, beside the stairs overlooking the whole warehouse, which was where he soon unfortunately fell to his death. Not once had Lucas ever forgotten to put up a wet floor sign until that fateful day. Of course, nobody could prove for certain that Lucas did this on purpose, even I have forgotten to put up wet floor signs in my very own cleaning career, so it's very easy to fumble the ball like that from time to time. The rest of the staff vouched for Lucas too, "not our precious Lucas!" They protested, "couldn't be our friend Lucas, he wouldn't do that!" The police were at a loss, the evidence couldn't stick. Nobody except for the suspicious detectives believed Lucas could've ever been that sneaky or insidious. Eventually the case ran cold, Lucas was let go of his position as Janitor due to the "accident" and everyone who loved him actually threw him a leaving party, there was cake and a big massive thank you card. The woman cried, hugging and kissing him farewell, the men hugged him and shook his hand, wishing their old friend luck. Perhaps Lucas really did just forget to leave out a wet floor sign, it may have even happened because the janitor was either so upset or angry that a simple thing like that had simply left his mind. We'll never truly know if Stan's death was an intentional murder or not, it will forever remain a mystery.
By Joseph Roy Wright2 years ago in Criminal
3 Suspects
The death of Shane Austin was a strange one. He was a cheater, someone who dated and sexed with multiple women (some even claim men) as he was known to be a sex addict. Oh how his poor addiction meant hurting those he loved, it was a vicious cycle, one he couldn't help but his exes didn't see it that way. In fact, he had dated so many people, that three ladies he slept with wanted him dead. The first lady to say this was a coworker of his, they had bonded over a pint every Saturday night after work (they worked retail and the boss had them work that day every weekend, how fun!). She was called Claire Reed and she was a young shy girl of twenty one, naive and a bit afraid of the world, which meant she didn't know any better than to fall for Shane, who promised her assurance and safety from the horrors of earth, as in protection from creepy stalkers and such. A young lady of such beauty always attracted horny strangers like Shane; only he knew how to keep his cool and play his cards right. It really helped that the cheating man was fortunately handsome, which was unfortunate for his many victims. He led her on, that despicable bastard! Shane made her believe he was true husband material. That he wouldn't cheat, abandon or hurt her (he ended up doing all of those things). It was three months into their relationship when she caught him in the act, Claire was on a night out with her friends (as young girls do) drinking and partying, just having a good old time! Lovely, she only wishes Shane was there to protect her from the horny drinks that occasionally approached, determined to ruin not just her night but her friends with unwanted touching and the gross, sickly stinky of alcohol on these predators' breaths. Then, as if God had granted her a miracle she saw him! Shane Austin her lover! Oh my gosh, did he look dreamy in the neon strobe lights too! There was one big problem however, one that made Claire cry, then scream marching over to him in complete wrath! He was with another girl. She was a pretty little red head with freckles and to make matters worse, this lady looked younger and slimmer than Claire did too. She was well jealous and furious. "You fucking cunt!" She yelled at Shane, who threw the redhead off of himself. "Sh- she's just a floozy!" Shane stuttered. "Excuse me?!" The redhead roared. "I uh, I uh..." Shane looked around in confusion unsure of what to do, "I'm sorry!" He pleaded with Claire. "I wish you were dead!" She wept, throwing her glass of wine all over Shane and fleeing the nightclub whilst crying her eyes out. Poor thing! What an asshole Shane Austin was, eh? But did he deserve to die (maybe). The second woman to wish him dead was named Elizabeth Shaw and she was the polar opposite of Claire, because Elizabeth was a much older woman (closer to his age) and she was much fatter and curvier (but still sexy). He loved her big, bouncy breasts the most, 2nd was her giant, round ass. Even her lips were big and luscious, he couldn't keep himself away from such a BBW (Big Beautiful Woman) like that! Nobody could blame him, she really was pretty as a picture (despite her weight). Another thing that made her different from Claire was that she was confident and wise. The type of girl who wouldn't stand down from an argument. Although, that was also her flaw; she liked drama (or so it seemed) as this lady always found something to complain about. Perhaps that's why Shane cheated on Elizabeth specifically, he hated the arguments. Although, even if Elizabeth couldn't speak, he'd still likely cheat on her anyway because of his insatiable sex addiction. Elizabeth found Shane walking down the street in town one sunny morning, he was holding hands with some short, petite blonde girl that only looked about 18. He pinched her bottom and the young blonde giggled, then Elizabeth ran over and slapped the poor woman across the cheek! The blonde cried like a baby. "Who's this then?!" Elizabeth shouted at Shane. "She's nobody babe, just... A floozy." "A floozy?!" The crying blonde screamed, tears streaming down her red, embarrassed cheeks before running away. "You cheating bastard!" Elizabeth smacked him in the eye. "Ow!" He groaned, holding his hurt eye. "I wish you were dead!" She spat on the floor beside his trainers and turned away, racing off in a huff. "I'm a sex addict!" He cried, "I can't help it!" However, Elizabeth didn't feel sorry for him at all, not one bit. She matched away down a street corner. The final suspect is the most interesting, as it was a guy who confronted Shane last (that's why some believe he liked men too). What happened this time, is that Shane was walking through the local shopping centre with his new 571st girlfriend, holding hands and giggling like always. This woman had her hair dyed green and was obviously into punk, what with her black make up and rock and roll attire with fingerless gloves. Shane had also gone out of his way to look the part too, he had even grown his hair out longer and styled it like an American rockstar. What happened, is that some man in a tracksuit approached the couple and began screaming; "you cheating bastard!" Out of seemingly left field. "Who are you?!" Shane gasped in utter horror. "A friend of a friend." The man replied sneering, he was a young fellow aged about 24. "I don't know who you are!" Shane cried. "Babes, who is this man?!" His punk girlfriend asked, holding him closer. "I don't know!" Shane cried, "please leave us alone." "He's a cheat, love!" The thug in the tracksuit said to her. "No, I'm not!" Shane lied, defending himself. "Sex addict this one!" "It's a genuine problem..." Shane wept. "Oh, but you wouldn't cheat on me, right?!" His new girlfriend winced. "I'd never!" "He already has!" The man winked, laughing, "you're better off dead!" Was his final remark before leaving the bewildered couple. Now, if you've been paying close attention, you might've noticed two similar things between the last two suspects. That being, they both said; "you cheating bastard!" As if this mysterious man was parroting what Elizabeth Shaw had previously said and with that knowledge the police did some digging. It was a masked man who entered Shane's apartment building at night who killed him, beside the apartments in the car inside the parking lot was a four door silver car suitable for a family. The license plate was of course covered, but police were able to spot a heavy set lady in the driver's seat, waiting for her masked male partner to return to the car, they both drove off together and a week later Detectives on patrol noticed Elizabeth Shaw and the tracksuit stranger inside of the very same car. They were both arrested and it didn't take long for them to put two and two together. That it was these two who actually conspired together to kill Shane Austin. As for Claire Reed, it is believed that she was just another innocent victim to Shane's addiction. Considering this whole incident took place in the small town of Widnes, it is possible that Claire and Elizabeth may have known each other and planned the murder of Shane Austin together. When pressed for information, both Elizabeth and Shaun White (as the tracksuit thug was revealed to be named) denied even knowing who Claire was, although rumour has it that she and Elizabeth had been spotted near each other on a few occasions inside one of the local pubs. Nobody has ever confirmed that they were friends or even spoke to each other.
By Joseph Roy Wright2 years ago in Criminal
Razumkov and his role in Ukraine
Recently, the name of Dmitry Razumkov, former speaker of the Verkhovna Rada and one of the key figures of the Servant of the People party, has been increasingly appearing in the Ukrainian political landscape. His actions and statements are increasingly interpreted as attempts to shake the situation around the ruling power, which raises questions about his true intentions and potential ambitions for the highest state office. This seems especially relevant in the context of possible early presidential elections, which are increasingly being discussed in Ukrainian political circles.
By Sebastian Boyer2 years ago in Criminal
The Storm's Deception
The storm raged outside, a tempest of howling winds and torrential rain that lashed against the windows of the isolated Victorian manor. Clara stood in the dimly lit parlor, her fingers tracing the edge of a silver letter opener on the mahogany desk. The clock struck midnight, its chimes swallowed by the thunder. He would be home soon.
By Nada soliman2 years ago in Criminal
