Crime

Durante o plantão noturno, recusei o pedido de aplicar soro no paciente que minha irmã de criação cuidava. Vi, com meus próprios olhos, um menino de sete anos morrer devido a uma reação alérgica causada pela medicação errada. Na vida passada, mal tinha terminado de aplicar o soro, quando familiares furiosos invadiram o posto de enfermagem e me espancaram até meu rosto ficar irreconhecível. Mas o soro era apenas glicose, não havia razão para acontecer algo assim. Com a consciência turva, ouvi alguém chamar a polícia. Achei que, finalmente, a salvação havia chegado. Jamais imaginei que seria meu próprio irmão, policial, quem me jogaria no chão. Meu amigo de infância, agora médico legista, apresentou o laudo da autópsia e me incriminou. Sem ter como me defender, acabei sendo espancada até a morte pelos familiares do menino, tomados pela fúria. Até o último suspiro, não entendi por que meu irmão querido e o amigo de infância agiram assim comigo. Quando abri os olhos novamente, estava de volta àquela noite.

“Darlene Roberts, you're under arrest for the death of George Martins.”I look up with misty eyes only to see a bunch of cops, guns blazing and aimed at me. Funny enough, I don't even freeze neither do I panic. My attention goes back to my ex lover whose limp body is still warm with blood oozing from his forehead and chest. His shirt is torn and his big eyes are staring blankly at me. I've managed to help shut his mouth which was agape and his twisted lips. It seems he had put up one hell of a struggle before he gave up the ghost.“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in the court of law.Does the cop mean what he has just said? I mean, I'm not the murderer here. I rushed here to help as soon as I could!

I was sitting at the police station. My landlord scolded me harshly and pointed at my nose. Out of nowhere, my mother called and berated me mercilessly. “Chloe went to your place and disappeared! Did you lose her?!” “I know you’ve had grudges against me and your brother all these years, but how could you take it out on your niece?” In my previous cycle, when my mother told me Chloe was missing, I panicked and searched for her everywhere. Instead of helping, my mom and brother’s entire family dragged me to court without hesitation. I could not understand it. Chloe disappeared on her way to my place. How was that my fault? I begged the police to clear my name and review all the surveillance footage in the city. But the footage showed Chloe arriving at my door that day, and I opened the door for her. After that, she was gone, as if she had vanished into thin air. I stared blankly at the footage of her hopping cheerfully into my apartment. I had no way to explain myself. My sister-in-law lost it. She was convinced I had killed Chloe and threw boiling oil at my face in a fit of rage. I ended up in the hospital. I was disfigured and completely crushed, both physically and emotionally. No matter how hard I tried, I could not recall ever opening the door for Chloe. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Chloe disappeared.

Albert Meyer, a former fixer of a large underground crime syndicate, wants his name cleared from the roster. He can achieve it on the condition that he has to do one last job for his foster father. He contemplates the choices he has to make and it was going well—until someone dies on his watch. Now he has to make sure no more deaths occur as he tries to choose between his emotions or duty—even as an incoming Wedding threatens to put his mind into discomposure.

Seven people, five murders, one conspiracy. Mobia is a small European country that sits over a volcano that allows magical beings to live there. Many believe the magic also keeps evil at bay, which lowers their crime rate. Joey Hamilton knows better.

Neil Jackson's true love steals highly radioactive materials, but I'm the one who's facing a jail sentence. I find the thief, but Lorraine Larsen refuses to own up to her crimes. Even my longtime boyfriend refuses to act as a witness for me. All he wants to do is send me to jail. It's too bad they don't know I'm a researcher at the nation's secret research center. They also have no idea that they've stolen highly radioactive materials—they can easily be killed by those.

Five years ago, when my boyfriend's small company was on the brink of bankruptcy I stepped in to save him, quietly supporting him from the shadows. Without revealing my identity, I became the company’s largest shareholder. Five years later, the night before his company was set to go public, he held me in his arms and said, "Emma, after the company goes public tomorrow, don’t leave. I have a surprise for you." At that moment, I was swept away by the idea of his "surprise," my mind racing with the hopeful thought that he might propose. I didn’t notice the cold glint of malice lurking in his eyes. The next day, as his company went public, he slapped me across the face and sneered, "Do you even see what kind of person you are? Did you really think someone like you could marry me?" He grabbed me by the hair and dragged both me and my best friend in front of a crowd of thugs and beggars he’d gathered. “These worthless cast-offs aren’t good enough for me anymore. Consider them my gift to you. Do whatever you like with them!”

Natasha Orlova, was the only surviving relative, and daughter of a Moscow streetwalker. Though she grew up in poverty, she was full of ambition. At eighteen, she left Russia and her mother, whom she regarded as a failure, to the golden land of opportunity, America. Like many other young girls migrating to the United States, she dived into the adult industry in search of a living. Her breakthrough in the adult industry came two years later; when an American businessman took enough interest in her to marry her. He was a man involved in a deathly lethal game of crime, but it was all good; for she loved him, and he had money, and money was one thing that was essential to her life. But soon; the tides were to change. Tides, which would eventually force the confession from her,“Money Ain't Loyal." A hard-boiled Crime Thriller by Daniel Junior.

Le jour de la cérémonie d'union, mes parents ont soudainement ramené mon compagnon à la maison et ont déclaré que, finalement, son rituel de marquage aurait lieu avec une autre. « Ta sœur a été empoisonnée par du venin de loup, il n'y a aucun remède. Son dernier souhait est de devenir la compagne de David. » « Tu es sa sœur, montre un peu de compassion, aide ta sœur, s'il te plaît. » Mon compagnon m'a aussi suppliée à côté : « Ne t'inquiète pas, ce n'est qu'une formalité. Une fois qu'elle sera morte, toi et moi resterons les seuls, les véritables compagnons. » J'ai refusé, mais mes parents m'ont alors forcée à boire une potion pour bloquer le lien mental, m'ont attachée, puis jetée dans la mine d'argent derrière la villa. « Une fois la cérémonie terminée, nous viendrons te détacher. » Mais à peine étaient-ils partis qu'un loup-garou voyou cruel m'a attaquée. Il m'a torturée de toutes les façons possibles avant de me tuer. Ce n'est que lorsque mon corps a commencé à pourrir qu'ils se sont souvenus qu'il restait encore moi, ligotée au fond de la mine d'argent.

There's a little shop downstairs that sells organ soup. It's always packed with customers. People line up as if bewitched, eager for a bowl. I've often wondered what secret ingredient made their soup so irresistible. This afternoon, I finally found my answer. Floating in my bowl was a piece of human skin—inked with a tattoo I knew all too well. It was the one etched on my boyfriend's arm.