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Genre MYSTERY & CRIME what is it?


Reading books MYSTERY & CRIMEHowever, all readers - sooner or later - find for themselves a literary genre that is fundamentally different from all others.
An astonishing number of readers read mystery and crime.
The peculiarities of such constant attention to mystery and crime by the most diverse readership has been and remains the subject of numerous studies.
But seriously, a detective mystery should matted the reader. However, readers are very different: some try to guess who the killer is, others try to figure out the killer using mathematical methods, and others prefer to get pleasure only by turning the last page.
On the other hand, the law of the genre requires that a mystery and crime doesn’t cover all areas of a person's life at once. A crime puzzle should not be likened to love or historical novels. Only full concentration on the plot! In the same way, the atmosphere of fear, anxiety and horror gradually thickens in the thriller.
The cornerstone of the reader's well-deserved interest mystery and crime is that the criminal is doomed to suffer the punishment he deserves. This is the logic of the detective form. Otherwise, the reader will be dissatisfied and even annoyed.
Naturally, you can’t create a perfect story of mystery and crime . The author must inevitably sacrifice something of his own, but he must have some higher value that would fundamentally distinguish him from other authors. The works of Hammett, Chandler, McDonald, Cain, Stout, containing such peculiar "Emeralds", from generation to generation remain interesting for millions of fans, young and old.


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Read books online » Mystery & Crime » Handle Bars by H.L.W. (ebook reader web .TXT) 📖

Book online «Handle Bars by H.L.W. (ebook reader web .TXT) 📖». Author H.L.W.



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Chapter One

 

I sighed softly as I lay down horizontally across my bed, flat on my stomach. My long straight brown hair dangled over my shoulders almost touching carpet of my floor. I rolled over and let my head hang low as I looked at my upside-down world. I could imagine how my blood slowly rushed to my head, but since my heart wasn't beating anymore, would my face be blue or purple instead of red? My old school phone suddenly rung, and I quickly answered it at the second ring.

"Hello." I said with joy in my voice. "Is this Charles?"

"I don't know, is this Cicada?" He said with his handsome voice. I smiled, and imagined how it would feel if I could blush again, or feel the butterflies in my stomach when I heard his voice. "How are you? Any thing good happen today?"

"Good day, I suppose." I smiled, then rolled over to be on my stomach again, and rapped the wire to the phone around my finger. "How has your day been?"

"It was terrible, until I heard your beautiful voice." I was silent for a minute, and then sat down on my bed, the preferred way to sit right. I twirled the wire tighter around my finger, but only as I could imagine. "Are you still there Cicada?"

"Um... Yes, I uh.... I have to go." I stammered.

"Go where?"

"I have to go.... To the bathroom... Yes to the bathroom!" I sounded like a complete and utterly buffoon. Why would I say that out of all the things I could have chosen? And why did he give my these feelings of joy and bash?

"Oh, well, I'll see you tonight then, yes?"

"Um... Yes, I'll see you tonight.... Charles." I then quickly hung up the phone. I love that British voice of his, and I loved these feelings that he gave me, but it felt so weird, and I've never felt anything like this before. I have never felt this way about anyone, and he had given these feelings to me. How could a human like Charles give me these feelings? How could a retired Horde member even be in a relationship with a man like him?

I had then decided that Charles is amazing, and that is why I feel and think this way, but that was surely not the answer. Maybe I didn't need to use the restroom, but I did need to eat something. I got my shoes and my handbag that had hid my small and embarrassing flowered wallet. I fixed my tousled hair and patted the wrinkles on my white blouse and pink flowered ankle length skirt.

My apartment had been just above a small little abandoned shop that I was hoping to one day open. It wasn't in bad shape, but it wasn't in perfect shape either. In fact, my little shop was soon to be famous with all the antique collectors, or at least that was what I was hoping for.

I found my little bike that had that 1950's look to it, with the nice little bell and a weaved basket. It was about a ten to fifteen minute ride to the butcher shop, which had locally been known as Benny's Chop Block, and it had probably been the greatest health hazard in Denver, besides the Horde of course.

As I walked into Benny's Chop Block, the bell on the door ringed to a familiar tune, but something had seemed different about Benny's Chop Block. Something wasn't right.

"Hey, Helen, where is Dante? Did he not come today?" I asked, then realizing that he was gone.

"He didn't come today, and he didn't come last week." She said, wrapping a package.

"That's... odd." I said. "He should be here today. Do you know if anything has happened to him?"

"I don't know." She handed me the package, and then looked at me, demanding money.

"Yeah, I know." I reached into my handbag and then pulled out my wallet then seeing the cash and spare change and no credit cards. It was important to stay hidden. "How much?"

"Twenty-three dollars, you know the drill."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." I sighed and then paused as I sat down in a chair where most people used when waiting for there order. But for me, well I just needed to think for the minute. None of this had made any real since, so I sat there quietly and thought about Dante. It was very unusual for Dante not to be around on days like this. And if he hasn't been around then.... Has he left? I don't think that Dante would leave the Horde, and I don't think that he would leave Denver. But this, this didn't make any since.

I stood up and then looked at Helen.

"What is the new address of the Horde?" I asked.

"What are you talking about?" She asked, pretending to play clueless."

"Helen, you've been working here since you were in your early twenties. You know who the only costumers who keep this place running are. You know what the only costumers of the Chop Block are, so tell me now, Helen. What is the new address?"

Helen frowned, and then looked at me.

"Thirty years I've been working here. Thirty damn years, Miss Cicada. Do you know what it's like to know who killed some child on the street and devoured their insides? Do you know what that is like? Now you ask me about how long I haven't seen Mr. Dante, and do you know how I feel about you damn creatures? You killed my son Miss Cicada."

"I didn't do a thing to your son, Helen, but I do know that your son is still here. He's a member of the Horde, and that's what they do to us. Now Dante, he know's where your son is, so if you tell me where he is then I will damn well find your son and bring him back to you."

Helen put her hand over her mouth and tried to hold the tears still and keep them invisible. She uncovered her mouth, opened it, and then tried to speak words that couldn't come out. She then wrote down the address on a small paper and handed it to me.

"I'll get your son back. I promise." I said.

Chapter Two

 

I laughed as I listened to Charles joke around with me, and flirt a little. Finally I had leaned towards him, and then hoped to feel the rush as our lips almost touched. And the.... It stopped. The smile on Charles' face was gone, along with the joy. His face became serious and then angry.

"You're a liar, Cicada." He says. I am shocked and appalled of the words that he speaks.

"What do you mean? I have never lied to you."

"Never lied? When were you going to tell me about what you really are? If you had then maybe you wouldn't have killed me."

"What? Charles what are you talking about? You're right here, Charles, you're perfectly fine, and you're not dead."

"Look again." He said. Suddenly darkness surrounded us, and there had been a faint spot light that had only surrounded Charles. His body had been torn and half eaten. He was covered in blood from head to toe... I covered my mouth, and wanted to cry.

"You're a liar Cicada, a liar! Did you really want this? You're a liar!"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hello, Cicada?" I looked at the one person who had been like me and had still claimed to be my friend. We had decided to meet at the cafe after I had met with Helen

"Oh, sorry Hortensia, I just sort of dozed off a little."

"Day-mare, huh?" She asked.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. It was... strange. So did you get anything on Dante?"

"Sorry, I didn't get zip. Maybe he's just on a trip." Hortensia said stretching her arms across the table, and making her limbs even more limber.

"My Rigor Mortis is acting up again."

"Haven't you been taking your pills? If you don't then that could be some risk, and then you'll start rotting and-" I began, but Hortensia cut me off.

"You got no reason to worry sis, I got this. Now about Dante... he's missing right? And he is still part of the Horde so..." Suddenly Hortensia had her finger on her nose. "Nosies." She said with a smile.

"Oh c'mon, sis, do you have to act like a child?"

"Yes, when it comes to going back to the Horde and meeting up with Hydra, it does."

I growled quietly and then sat back in my chair.

"Fine." I said.

I however wouldn't blame Hortensia. Hydra wasn't exactly known for being the most friendly lych in Denver, but if you had been male and human then it would be different. She was however known for giving every one around her, and anyone who was an enemy of the Horde complete and total hell.

After finishing our lunch, Hortensia and I had then separated and I had road my bike home to grab a couple of things, like jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie, and then down to the new location of the Horde. I had to be careful here, unless I wanted my head mounted above Hydra's fire place.

I took the little piece of notebook paper that held the address of the Horde's new location.  Only if I had a GPS then life might be easier.  That's something to add onto my Christmas list.  I slipped on my hoodie and then began riding down town, looking for the new location: Jefferson Ave.

It wasn't that far from the old location actually, but it took me about an hour to finally get notice that I had been going around in a circle.  This was it, right?  A warehouse, huh?  Well I wouldn't have expected that. 

I chained my bike to one of those metal thingys that no one knows the name to.  I slipped the paper back into my pocket and then went around to the main enterence.  I gave three soft knocks.  That was the code.  I hoped that was still the code.  The door opened and I bowed my head. 

"The password is-"

"Cicada, we don't have a password anymore."  A deep voice said.  It was Marco, ofcourse.  I looked up at him.

"How did you know that it was me?"

"Well who else wouldn't of gotten the memo?"  I looked down at my feet, feeling embarrassed.  How stupid of me. "Also, Ace said that he saw you coming."

"How did he know that it was me?"

"What other zombie has a bike with a weaved basket and a bell?" 

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