Mystery
Looking Back at the Present
Staring at the chalk outline wasn’t getting me anywhere. Three homicides in the same month. If this was linked to the others earlier this year, he was picking up in my district. She was thirty-two. Blonde but had a brown wig on. Probably what made her the target. Night walker by the way she was dressed and whatever clown college she went to, to learn to put on makeup. Poor ‘thing’ never stood a chance. To be fair she probably wasn’t going to last long in a normal life anyway if this was the road she was going down. People don’t pick her life because things are going well.
By Unabated Lemon5 years ago in Fiction
Transcender
“John, please.” The tired looking man said before finishing the last drop of his of fine Belgium beer still maintaining eye contact through the bottom of the distorted pint glass. Once he savoured his last drop and the bubbles settled he placed the glass down on the mat and John was less than pleased.
By Loyd Moody 5 years ago in Fiction
What symbolizes her strength
Lisa knew this woman could read situations just as well as she could read hands; she could tell just by that insincere smirk on her red lips and her mysterious slender eyes fixed upon her in the damp mist. She felt the urgent need to leave the foggy, narrow street which turned into a claustrophobic space after meeting her pen pal for the first time alone.
By Lobna Kowsar5 years ago in Fiction
Schrodinger’s Choice
The dark room was almost entirely devoid of furniture. The only items still remaining were a single round table sitting in the middle of the floor, and the ominously large bronze statue of a bull at the opposite end of the room. The only light in the room came from a copper pendant light positioned directly over the table. And, on the table … was the package.
By S.B. Pedersen5 years ago in Fiction
The Questionable Death
It was a closed casket. Of course, it was a closed casket! No proof of the body? I thought as much. I won’t be giving a clear or realistic narration if I was to say it was a happy, enjoyable day. It is always very painful to see all the loved ones of any particular person gathered together to mourn a death. This day, in particular, was dreadfully saddening. All in black, we gathered in a small, local church for the ceremony. One was bound to, at the very least, give a soft sob. It was only natural to enter a deep state of melancholia at the funeral of Axel F. Oyster.
By Lavinia Micheletti5 years ago in Fiction
Ashes! Ashes!
“Have you ever really thought about it, Meyers? How so many of the rhymes people sing as kids are related to death?” Detective Larkin looked down at his partner who was hunched low beside a fire pit. “I wonder if it’s to soften the blow,”he said sadly while shaking his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”
By Christine Nelson5 years ago in Fiction
