Stories in Criminal that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Woman Found Dead In The Trunk Of Her Car
Susan “Su” Taraskiewicz was only the second female ground service employee to have ever worked for Northwest Airlines (now Delta Airlines) at the Boston Logan International Airport in Boston, Massachusetts.
The maxim that a fool and his money are soon parted is never more true than when the method used for doing the parting is a fraudulent financial scheme of the “pyramid” type in which people are promised massive returns on their investment but there is no proper foundation for such confidence. Such schemes are often dubbed “Ponzi schemes”, but why are they so called?
Hate Crimes in America
Last year it was BLM, this year it is AAPI, who's next? Hate... Crimes... Racism... Patriarchy... Religion... Can you attach a face or ethnicity to each of these subcategories? Why is it that America seems to have a desperate need to hate? The racial divide has us only seeing color but racism is hardly the beginning of hate. If you believe in the Bible stories for instance, the first crime was committed by a jealous sibling illustrated by Cain and Abel. The prized possession, the inheritance, was worth killing his brother over. Greed... Status... Power... Is jealousy the root cause of hate crimes? It seems as though every system that this western world is built on, is being examined under a black light so to speak- Patriarchy, the Royal Family, White Supremacy... Before I jump into this argument, I would like to state that I am an ally for Asian Americans and stand in full solidarity with the entire community. We are in this blameless fight together.
The Cursed Film
The distributor asked me how I wanted the funds to be forwarded. I wanted a check. Not only did I want a check I wanted to walk into their offices in New York, meet with someone, anyone, the janitor, and be handed a live check and have my hand shaken. Then I’d walk down to the nearest bank branch and deposit that thing. I wanted to watch the teller’s eyes try not to bug as he or she punched in the numbers; three, two, four, four, three, zero, nine, point, eight six.
The Bloody Dance
“Dance with me,” he yelled. Move your hips to the beat of the music. Who cares who is looking, as long as your beads hypnotise me with their jingles.
I glance at my watch as a toxic cloud of cigarette smoke escapes my lips. 5:36 A.M. As I shift my weight from one foot to the other, my shoe hits a protruding tree root.
Nahum struck the axe into the chopping block and raised his hands, turning slowly to face the lawman. “You be careful with that sidearm, son. Making me a might nervous, it must be said.”
Every time I lace my running shoes, I think about Ahmaud Arbery. To summarize the Arbery case: in February 2020, two white men, Travis (34) and George (64, a retired police officer) McMichaels got into their vehicle -- Travis with his shotgun, George in the bed of the truck with a .357 Magnum -- pursued the unarmed Arbery (25) through their neighborhood, and blocked his path with their vehicle.
Danny walked around the park, taking in the early spring day. The leaves were just starting to bud and the air smelled of fresh dirt. He’s had his head in his books so much lately that it felt like he was just coming out of a cave. It was good to be outside. After completing the loop around the pond, he sat on his favorite bench, the one that overlooked the water. He felt something underneath him and stood up again. A small black notebook, the kind he always imagined writers carried with them everywhere, sat on the bench.
The street below is as empty as it always is in the warehouse district at-- What time is it? Matthias Stone pushes up the sleeve of his simple black suit jacket. His silver watch reads 7:15, but he thinks maybe the hour hand approaching 8, and the minute hand being over the 3, means it is 8:03. He’s not sure why he even wears the thing, since he can’t read the time. One of these days he’ll invest in a digital watch, or get one of those phone things.
The entire room felt like a swirling buzz. With weak, labored breathing, Bryan roused to consciousness, unable to completely grasp the situation he’d found himself in. Blinking rapidly, yet unable to see, he gradually became aware of his scenario and surroundings. There was a course, black bag on his head; nothing porous enough for him to get more than a dark glimpse of moving shadows, rhythmically swaying in front of him. Muffled sounds, like what you’d expect from an old phonograph, teased his ears behind the humming of faint tinnitus. Eventually, the dull sound fluctuations evolved into recognizable speech. Two men were in the room; older, rugged, yet distinguished sounding men whispered loudly to each other, not far away from where he sat.
We Were Partners
“Hello Tim,” I greeted, squeezing past the organized piles of junk on the floor of my brother’s apartment. I set a few bags of groceries, that I had picked up earlier for him, on his cluttered kitchen counter. I suppose I’d forgotten what it was like to live single—no one cared about the mess. My nose wrinkled at the smell in the air. Just because we lived in Amherst, Massachusetts, the permeating stench of fish in his apartment did not make it any more bearable.