fact or fiction
Is it fact or merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores the myths and beliefs we hold about copycat killers, eyewitnesses testimony, what makes a murderer and more.
Faux Aficionados
The lights were pulsating with increasing intensity and the floor was shaking from the bass. You could almost feel the sweaty condensation ready to drip down the walls. The air was close with the heat radiating from the moving bodies drunkenly sauntering around the dance floor.
By V A Harker5 years ago in Criminal
Saving Stella
The monstrous waves crashed against the warm sand and made the sea foam tickle my bare feet as the sun blistered my cheeks. I had never been to the beach before and for the first time in my life, I felt joy. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths and savored every second of the salty air as it entered my lungs. A smile grew across my lips and several tears rolled down my sunburnt face as laughter from young children filled the air.
By Courtney Gaylor5 years ago in Criminal
Her Second Favorite Mug
She tugged the thick envelope out of her mailbox. When she did, it tore on a sharp edge, revealing what was inside. Blood roared in her ears as she processed what she was seeing. She wasn’t counting money at her department store job; she was standing outside her dilapidated apartment, key to her own mailbox dangling from the door that was swaying in the wind.
By Monica Larc5 years ago in Criminal
Dark Santa
Twenty-three years ago, a woman gave birth to a child in a black market, underground cave where she is one of many; held captive. Her abuser is the father of a budding crypto cult, where the RNA of male genes and chromosomes are empathetically mutated and used on female babies to strengthen their body’s natural immune system. After a negative gender identity, her child was swiftly removed. Only to be used like all other negative results, as test subjects for the next batch of girl babies. Surprisingly, the caretaker deviates and ships the baby to a disclosed facility were the rare few, are given rays of hope through adoption or foster care.
By Rheda Denning5 years ago in Criminal
The Treasure of a Lifetime
This was the heist that rocked the Boston Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum back in March of 1990. Two thieves disguised as police officers tricked the security guards at this museum as mentioned above into letting them into the museum late at night.
By Paige Kostyniuk5 years ago in Criminal
Hero
Guilt is worse when everyone thinks you're wonderful. For weeks, Sydney's major newspaper was on my sofa, folded in half with the page 5 headline 'Local Woman Saves Mother and Child' staring up at me. I remember speaking to the reporter for about two minutes. Everything he's written is technically true, but he's made it sound like I dragged two unconscious bodies from a crashed car that exploded seconds later (the car didn't even catch fire). And of course there's something he doesn't know. Something no one knows.
By JasonWadeDunn5 years ago in Criminal
Rosso
The old wood floor was creaking. The roof was leaking and the wood studs were significantly broken. The moisture of the Greek island didn’t help but continue deteriorating the buildings wooden joists. Pieces of the ceiling painting were collapsing little by little, day by day. The marble cornice had already cracked when this big cymatium piece fell on the street. The Department of Buildings gave them no option but to abandon the house. Rosso was its name, given by the locals. Rosso because blood had watered its walls. But it was still their inheritance. “We don’t care about your inheritance. The house belongs to the city now. Whatever remains of it of course. The house... The house... The house...”
By Niria Kountouri5 years ago in Criminal
Rosso
The old wood floor was creaking. The roof was leaking and the wood studs were significantly broken. The moisture of the Greek island didn’t help but continue deteriorating the buildings wooden joists. Pieces of the ceiling painting were collapsing little by little, day by day. The marble cornice had already cracked when this big cymatium piece fell on the street. The Department of Buildings gave them no option but to abandon the house. Rosso was its name, given by the locals. Rosso because blood had watered its walls. But it was still their inheritance. “We don’t care about your inheritance. The house belongs to the city now. Whatever remains of it of course. The house... The house... The house...”
By Niria Kountouri5 years ago in Criminal
