Criminal Minds To Bear Witness Novels & Stories

"Very nice. You are the only one of my followers who are loyal and reliable. Don't forget to always incite the angry public prosecutor. I believe he could easily be influenced to demand the death penalty for the mass murder he had committed against the Duffals." "I will do it." With the smoothest and most slow motion, Richmond tried to turn to face his wife's trembling back. If only, in every night spent with her, she would cry silently with the trembling body that always disturbed Richmond's sanity. After that the call was simply cut off by The Witness. That person might be one of those bloodthirsty psychopaths. But that's the rule of the game. Once you stray, there won't be a second chance

☆☆SUMMER’S POV☆☆ (Six months later) “Did you ever see the cruelty behind his eyes?” the prosecutor asked. I was the last witness called to the stand. My gaze lifted, meeting Jake’s across the room for the first time. His eyes were hollow. They were dark and haunted. A cold shiver ran down my spine, but I held his gaze firmly. Memories of my best friend flashed through my mind. But I didn't see him in that room. I only saw someone who looked just like him. It was a monster hiding behind his face, wearing his skin.

I knew I couldn’t betray her, even if it meant risking everything I believed in. It was on my way back to the station that the call came. A witness. A former colleague of the victim who claimed to have seen the mysterious woman speaking with the victim just hours before the murder. Weeks had passed without this witness coming forward, yet now he decided to speak. Something wasn’t right. "I’ll go," I told my colleagues. "I need to hear what he has to say." The city streets felt darker, more oppressive, as I headed to the given address. It was a small apartment in a rough neighborhood. I knocked on the door, and a hoarse voice invited me in.

The memories just keeps on replayed in my mind, the images burned into my retinas. Lillian Graywood's death at the Circus of Sorrows flashed before me once more, her lifeless eyes staring into nothingness as I gasped in horror, trying to dare and capture her at the lenses of the camera's. The juggler's knives had flown true, pinning her to the carousel like a butterfly in a display case. Then now, that unknown student's death at the archery shed, an arrow protruding from his chest amidst the scattered practice targets. "Why does it have to be always me who witness these shits? Just why?!" With hushed voice, I screamed at my lungs, as the twisted murderers had struck again, leaving me as the

Create a strong alibi. Do not be afraid. Erase the evidence. Kill the witness. Kill your conscience. Plan everything before and after the crime.

(Bright's POV) Understanding the minds of criminals is my job. Sitting in a locked room with a person who's seen a lot of people die before his eyes doesn't bother me anymore. In fact, it never did. I see a maximum security prison as an amusement park. But instead of fun rides and various attractions, the stars of this place are serial killers and their magnificent crimes. Killing is a form of art, and I'm just one of a million people who would fall asleep with their dark confessions like it's some bedtime story.

The sheet made him shuffle awkwardly towards the bathroom and slowed him down. He didn’t like her being out of his sight, but he also didn’t want her listening to their conversation. He didn’t want her to know what he knew. She may have been a victim once. But when a captor inflicted enough damage onto a victim, they could become the criminal too. He hoped he was wrong, but Craig’s words made that hope fade. Alrick didn’t know what he’d do if he needed to find her guilty. He’d need to hand her over to NARC officials for a fair trial. Alrick hated himself for thinking of it.

“What are the cops doing now?” “I think they are trying to get the CCTV footage. They have already sealed the area. They are talking it could be a bear attack but there was no sign of a bear or anything.” Asher rolled his eyes at that. “They are always suspecting it to be a bear attack. They never grow. You know they must not get a hold of the footage, right? And also, find a way to get the witness to me so that I can compel him and if it’s not possible, get rid of him. No matter how shaken up he is, when he recovers, he is going to be spilling every damn thing he had seen.”

The surveillance footage ended abruptly there. I felt a bone-chilling cold shoot straight to my head, and my palms were slick with sweat. A few days later, all the major news outlets published the final investigation results of this horrifying murder case. The final assessment report stated that at the time of the crime, Vivian was suffering from acute mental distress and was in a state of severe psychiatric disorder. Therefore, the forensic psychiatric institute determined she had no criminal capacity. The court ultimately accepted the evaluation.

"It was kinda amusing. I've seen the photographs. I've read the reports. It shouldn't be possible." "They tried throwing me into a mental facility," I said, ashamed. I don't know why I'm telling him that, but I don't want to be seen as something monstrous, I mean, in a natural way. "Yes," he nodded, impressed. "The psychiatrists claimed that there's nothing wrong with you--- which is pretty weird actually knowing that you murdered two drug addicts, armed and twice as big as you." "I just happened to be faster---" "Oh yes, I've heard you say that to the police. They had your interview recorded."