Elijah was a quiet young man at the beginning of his career in teaching. He looked forward to his first day and couldn’t wait to meet his new students. Elijah was a gentleman, preferring bow tie and suspenders. Both handsome and charismatic, he fared well with the ladies. And, though he didn’t consider himself a babe magnet, he didn’t get turned down very often either. All-in-all, Elijah was happy with his life and things were going well.

She awoke to unfamiliar surroundings. The room was dark, cold, and clammy. It took only seconds before she realized someone had chained her right ankle to a cot. Panic set in.

She had no idea the value of the item she had just lifted off an unsuspecting mark. Annabelle Kranz was a skinny, hipster type, an early-thirties happy-go-lucky thief, specifically a pickpocket. Her antics had earned her a reputation among the locals of being a great big old pain in the rear. Her sticky little fingers had found their way into many a pocket that dare frequent her section of the Crossroads Center mall.

The victim was a white male, approximately 34 years old. The killer staged his body face up in a rugged area of Benson Beach. His legs and arms were outstretched and pinned to the ground. The killer took his time carving the words “number one” into his chest. The cause of death, likely the knife that was plunged into his heart. Detective Dell Azad from the Long Beach Police Department was the lead. 

Elsdon Watson was kind of a small man, a quiet man. He was the one who always got bullied in school. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t capable of standing up for himself. Lord knows his father, an ex US Marine, taught him all the skills he needed to deal with bullies. For whatever reason, throughout his life he seemed content with embracing the embarrassment of the label coward.

Stone Mountain Lodge, Kleinrivier Wilderness, Eastern Cape, a scenic, remote setting for extreme nature lovers. Accessible only by hiking in, it was the perfect setting. Sir Johannes Hannes chose this location specifically for the remoteness. He chose this location because what was to be discussed during their stay was extremely confidential.

Eleanor Gatsby was no lady. She would earn no awards for any measure of decency or righteous moral character. Eleanor Gatsby was a roughneck, a hoodlum, a delinquent. She was a hooligan, a rogue menace, a mistake. Eleanor Gatsby hated herself and everyone responsible for her sentence of life.

He saw them as they boarded at the Shady Circle Avenue stop. They were as rowdy as usual as they made their way towards his section of the car. Bracing for a confrontation he knew would come, he made no eye contact. He pretended as though he was reading a news article, but that caught the attention of Ebantu, the leader, and he made a beeline for Sam.