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Latest Stories

December 22, 2025
General Stories Tom Kropp

Messiah In The Congo

Booming thunder and pouring rain rocked the L.A. night like a hurricane. White lightning flashed across the black sky, illuminating the dark clouds rolling by. Below the rolling heavens soared long, flowing streams of light that were hovercars in flight,…
December 22, 2025
Crime Stories Tom Kropp

Murderers Meet Mongrel

Lily didn't think her new doorbell and little dog would save her life, but both did. Lily was a lovely little Latina, 21 years old. Her little mutt had been named Foxy, due to her fox coloring. Lily's new doorbell frightened Foxy so much that she ran and hid…
December 22, 2025
General Stories Tom Kropp

Foxy's Doorbell Destruction

Lily didn't think her new doorbell and little dog would save her life, but both did. Lily was a lovely little Latina, 21 years old. Her little mutt had been named Foxy, due to her fox coloring. Lily's new doorbell frightened Foxy so much that she ran and hid…
December 22, 2025
Poetry Paweł Markiewicz

The 11 Dazzling Verses

The dreameries need Blue Hours. The Blue Hours would need a sun's afterglow. The red sky in the evening longs for a delight. The delight wants a homeland. The native land wanted a literature. The writings are willing to manifest a reality. The epiphany was…
December 22, 2025
Crime Stories Tom Kropp

Murder And Manslaughter

Felipe was born poor in a shack in Honduras. His family all lived in the same room with a dirt floor and considered themselves lucky to have electricity. But they didn't have indoor plumbing. They had to use an outhouse. They used a communal pump for safe…
December 22, 2025
General Stories Matias Travieso-Diaz

The Annoyingly Loud Monkey

I decline all noisy, wordy, confused, and personal controversies. Josiah Warren Johnny was an aging Venezuelan red howler (Alouatta seniculus), a fat, medium-sized, male monkey that inhabited the northern edge of the rainforests of tropical South America. His…
December 22, 2025
Flash Fiction A.H. Leclerc

The Lady Of Avalon

This is the story of the Lady of Avalon, first wielder of Excalibur, spiritual precursor of Arthur Pendragon. She had had a lover once. Pwill was his name. A kind soul at one with Nature, who spoke to his horse like they were dearest friends (which they were)…
December 22, 2025
General Stories Thomas Turner

Chicago Bound

Chicago bound: He and his wife are taking a train to Chicago, to be at a concert. It is thrilling for both of them. Charles tells his wife “This is going to be great.” Lana, his wife, who is the singer for the Chicago concert, said “You know, I am going to…
December 22, 2025
Poetry Markus J

Santa's Dilemma

the jolly old man Santa claus- broke the north poles workers by laws- the elf's toiled all night and day- for a daily pittance called their pay. reported by his brother-in-law- was this the end of old Mr clause- with the elf's downing their tools to go on…
December 22, 2025
Flash Fiction Kashif Imdad

Emma's Fury

Following the catastrophic world war that left humanity on the brink of extinction, Survivors rebuilt establishing communities amidst the devastated terrain. Roaming gangs of men, referred to as the slavers, dominated the wastelands, abducting people and…
December 22, 2025
Crime Stories Tom Kropp

Murder And Blood Counts

She stepped in front of me blocking my path. I could see that the red-haired, hot hooker was bad news. Obeying instinct, I tried sidestepping her. “Hold on Kole. We need to talk. Look in my eyes!” she demanded. A primal part of me assumed she probably had a…
December 15, 2025
Flash Fiction Michelle Pauls

To RFK, Jr: The Autistic Poet Writes About Pennies

In her bedroom, the young woman walks back and forth, consistently, intently, while eyeing a large ceramic container of pennies nearby. Its purple outer shell is slightly cracked, revealing some unknown material underneath. It is in the center of the room and…

From: This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

 

To: This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

 

Re: Reduced Sentence for Murder

 

Dear Neal,

 

Thank you for taking the time to work with the police recently.

 

Before I begin, I need to make it clear this message will auto delete 5 minutes from opening or if you attempt to save it. So read carefully.

 

Over the past 3 months you have been working with Detective Pater, from Metro Police. You recorded a series of interviews to aid us in our investigations. And for your generous help with our inquiries you have been promised time off your sentence.

 

The twenty year sentence you received for the rape and murder of Sharon Glass was judged by the courts as sufficient. So, with good behaviour, you’d be out in ten. But once that steel door slammed shut on your first night inside your claustrophobia told you even 10 years in that hell would kill you. So you cut a deal. Confess to 2 unsolved murders and your sentence would be halved and then halved again - pretty sweet, out in two and a half years for the rape and murder of three young girls.

 

Detective Pater came out and went through everything with you. To discover what happened to poor Cindy Russell and Catherine Vine. Recording the interviews of what you had to say. You started coy, unsure how it would play out. The detective won your confidence though. To sign the immunity papers, he gave you that beautiful onyx fountain pen you loved so much and after that you were singing like a bird. Singing for your freedom.

 

“Singing” couldn’t be further from the truth though, could it? The degraded details you revealed on how and where you carried out the 2 unsolved murders feature some horrifically accurate descriptions. I didn’t know you could “slip” while strangling someone and crush their wind-pipe. Or how anyone could rape the dying Miss Russell as “the life went out of her eyes”.

 

 

I say interviews but they have become your confessions. The recordings leave no question to your guilt and confirm, beyond any reasonable doubt, you committed the other two murders. And how heinously you committed them. However, I did laugh during the last interview when you said “I feel like the truth has set me free”.

 

Now, though, it is time for my confessions. Detective Pater is no more a member of the police than you will be a free man. When he came to see you that first time you didn’t check to see if he was from Metro Police, did you? What you can now do is check the prison register - you have been visited many times over the last 3 months by David Paris. “Friend of the Family”.

 

It is my pleasure to reveal the man who conned you was the worst kind of con. A cheap, second-rate actor who I paid off in rye. It’s a crime to impersonate a police officer so I’ll spare you his personal details. But he’ll go back to his own, private hell while you’ll remain in yours. Forever.

 

You can rest easy, the evidence we collected is inadmissible in court so the police will not be receiving copies of your confessions. I am keeping those to drag myself back into darkness whenever my mood brightens. Instead the police will receive a tip-off telling them where to find the bodies of the missing girls. Amongst the orgy of horror you left will be the onyx fountain pen you admired so much. With your unmistakable finger prints.

 

Soon your life sentence will mean life. All that now awaits you is an eternity so ugly, lost and lonely in that tiny steel box you’d be better off just curling up and using your bed sheet as an eternal gag.

 

Do not worry. You are not alone. For the last 4 years I have always had hope my daughter Cindy would be found alive. From your description, I visited her mangled, decayed corpse 5 days ago. Unable to touch her, bury her or bless her, instead of flowers, all I could do was leave that onyx pen. What I saw will be my steel box for the rest of my days.

 

Forever together,

 

Conrad Russell

Father

 

 

My name is Thom Goddard and I am a writer living in High Roding, Essex, England. I previously wrote for the BBC and other television companies. This is my first crime flash fiction.

 

 

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