Series
TALES OF CRIME AND FICTION.
It all began with three things; a cloudy night with wet streets and cold air swiftly blowing through the city of London, a horribly confused detective and a perplexed case. It had been raining across London since morning, it was somewhere in the middle of January and the weather was very chilly. The busy streets of London were half deserted and extremely wet and it was around 9 o'clock in the night. On these half asleep streets, I had roamed for what seemed like hours and hours, I had lost complete track of time because I was buried deep in confused thoughts. I was frustrated! nothing made sense anymore, I had been stuck on the particular dead end for two days and I still hadn't found a new lead, my head was all dizzy and I was mad at myself. I walked alone, unaccompanied, trying to think through. Now and again I looked at the bunch of papers that I held in my left hand, I read through it again and again but, NO! no single clue could I point out. It was time to face the fact: I was stuck on a unsolvable dead end.
By Shazia Khan2 years ago in Fiction
206 — One Word Said It All
He had tried. He loved her, but he knew something was wrong. Her message was said in a whisper, meant just for him. She used a word that wandered many paths. There were many forks in its linguistic road. Depending on intent, he knew he was either going to be "all in" or on the way out. He had always hung on her every word, but this one was challenging.
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
205 — Phantom Pulses for the Living
Her father was dying of cancer. He was furious when he woke up because he was certain he wouldn't wake up ever again. But he did awaken and, instead of waking up dead, which was his wish, his eyes darted back and forth in confusion.
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
How I accidentally joined the Illuminati at my high school: Part 2
After narrowly escaping punishment for bringing the society outfit to my school, I thought my troubles were over. But little did I know, my journey into "The Owl" was just about to begin, and things were about to get a lot more complicated.
By The Story Writer2 years ago in Fiction
World in Tatters Ch. 45
“Where is she?” Panic rising is Alice’s voice. “Where’s my mom? Why isn’t she here?” “I don’t know.” Stunned. “Shit, Alice. I don’t know.” We look around the room, checking the bathroom and closets for any sign of Aunt Nora. Realizing our situation, I rush over to the lifeless bodies of the two guards, “She’s obviously not here. We need to go. Help me get them inside.”
By Kevin Barkman2 years ago in Fiction
World in Tatters Ch. 44
Rachel jumps up as we enter the room. “Did you get to see her? How was she?” As I look over at Alice, I notice her sour expression. She turns away from Rachel and crosses to the other side of the room. Richard sits on the sofa in the middle of the suite, arm wrapped tenderly around his wife’s shoulders. Jarvis is at the breakfast table, scrubbing at parts of a dismantled rifle. Peggy’s across from him, assembling what I can only assume is a pipe bomb. Through the bedroom door, I see Ren wrapped up in the blankets, snoring like a wild animal.
By Kevin Barkman2 years ago in Fiction
2026 The War of the Americas
"Where is Mrs. Platt?" The Seal again barked at Dom. Dom's mind reeled as he sought to provide an answer that would satisfy. He knew that if he told the soldier his wife was still in the house he would insist on a rescue attempt, and very likely would succeed. Dom was sorely tempted to do just that as it would result in what he very much wanted, Sylvia with him as they fled Mexico. However, she had told him she wanted to stay, that she needed to stay. He knew in his heart that she might never forgive him if he did not give her that chance. And, he knew, that ultimately she was right. She could do much more good for the war effort from behind enemy lines then with him safe in America. Having made up his mind he replied "She's dead." The Seals eyes widened "What? Are you sure? Are you one hundred percent certain?" The tears still in his eyes over the death of his two beloved dogs likely helped him sell the lie as he replied "Yes, I am certain. All she was doing was trying to stop the dog. She made a move to block him, and the Mexican soldiers just opened fire. She was shot multiple times. In the head and the body. No one could have survived. She is dead. Let's go." The seal radioed to his team that he and Dr. Platt were on the way out, back to the RIB. He instructed them to provide covering fire if needed and prepare for immediate departure. They both turned and raced down the long winding stairs to the beach as quickly as they were able. They faced no resistance and quickly reached the bottom, where sat the waiting RIB along with the four other SEALs that made up the extraction team. Dom had never even seen them until they were almost on top of them. Their camo was expertly crafted to the environment and their movements so precise and practiced they appeared as if ghosts out of the sands of the beach. They had all embarked onto the small boat when the first gunshots rang out. The sands of the beach exploded all about and rained down on them as the boat raced away at full speed. They heard shouts and a few bullets that whipped by their heads much too close for comfort though fortunately none found their mark and they were out of range within moments. Dom worried about any Mexican patrol boats that might be launched to intercept them from the Coronados. He did not know that the SEALs had already closely reviewed intelligence data on the islands from US spy satellites and concluded their was no real threat. The few small boats the Mexicans kept there were not fast enough or well armed enough to threaten the SEALs especially with US close air support launched from San Diego or the many US Navy aircraft carriers in the region only minutes away if needed.
By Everyday Junglist2 years ago in Fiction
End of the Storm
Pain. That was all he knew, that was all he could think about. Pain shot from his arm to his brain, to the rest of his body, then back to his arm again, like a bolt of lightning getting reborn again and again. Black clouded his vision, and he had no idea if he was standing or lying down. He couldn’t even tell if he was conscious or if this all was just some horrible, never-ending nightmare.
By Rebecca Patton2 years ago in Fiction
