#thephoenixhand

It’s called The Phoenix Hand: Ashes Don’t Lie—a short story collection written in the style of FBI case files & journal entries. It follows a vigilante known only as “The Phoenix Hand” who leaves behind charred handprints & haunting words while exposing the people society protects the most: abusers, corrupt leaders & predators in positions of power.

This project means the world to me because it ties into something deeper: silence, survival, & what it means to grow from ashes instead of being buried by them.

Below is one of the case files. I’d LOVE your feedback, support, or even just a share so I can get this into the world.

Thank you for helping me keep this fire alive. 🔥🖤

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Case File 3 – The Wolf in Uniform

The squad car was still idling when they found him. Red and blue lights spun silently against the brick walls, painting the alley like a crime scene before anyone had even noticed the body inside. Officer Jared Cole slumped over the wheel, badge pinned neatly to his chest, pistol holstered at his hip. No sign of a struggle. No chance to draw. On the cracked windshield, smeared in ash and soot, was a handprint blazing outward like fire frozen mid-burst. Pinned beneath the wiper blade, a slip of paper: “Your oath was a costume .”

Local Resident Statement

“They all knew,” said a neighbor, who asked not to be named. “The yelling, the bruises on his wife, the way she stopped showing up at church. Everyone knew. But nobody said a word because he had a badge. He wore the law like armor. Turns out it didn’t protect him this time.”

Journal Entry, Undated

Badges don’t make men noble. Some wear them like wolves wear fur—hiding fangs behind the uniform. They tell themselves they are protectors, when all they protect is the silence that keeps them powerful.

He hit her and called it love.

He broke her spirit and called it devotion.

He raised his right hand in court and swore to serve, while that same hand left bruises on her skin.

So tonight, I raised mine.

One hand for every woman who whispered into pillows instead of phones.

One hand for every child who learned that “Daddy’s just tired” was code for terror.

I didn’t kill the cop.

I killed the wolf hiding inside his uniform.

FBI Case Note, Keller

“Pattern intensifies. Three men, all tied to domestic violence or exploitation, now exposed post-mortem. She’s rewriting their reputations in real time—turning protectors into predators, holy men into hypocrites, citizens into criminals. And the public? They’re not just afraid anymore.