A thief's story: part 1

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

this was a writing exercise that evolve in to a short story.

I couldn’t sleep. The rough wood of the so called bed of my cell kept sticking between my vertebras and the constant sound of falling water from the cracked roof made a fatal combination against my sanity.

Some things never change, one of those things is prison’s comforts. My… let’s call it profession, made me visit a lot of these institutions. I’m a thief, well I was but I sort of still am, it’s complicated. You never quit being a thief. And when I say thief I mean the real deal, no those half penny kids that steal apples from the market.

I stood and started wandering across the tiny room, the cold floor shrunk the sole of my foot witch hurt like hell because of the cut on it. I released a guttural sound of discomfort, not really loud but enough to be heard by my delightful neighbor.

“Don’t worry kid” he said with a high scratchy voice “they are going to kill you soon anyway”

“How comforting” I replied forcing a smile even if he couldn’t saw me.

Sarcasm is a fine art you see. People usually don’t respect it as they should but if you want to deliver the right reply, a reply that is obviously sarcastic but in the perfect subtle way, you have to add that inflection to your voice, an effect that only a truly big smile can provide.

“So we have mister know it all here” said my neighbor after producing a disgusting dry sound that I chose to read as laughter. See, he heard the smile.

“I guess it’s better that way” he continued “If you are going to died alone in some hell hole you could as well do it with a smile in your face”

Alone. That word hit me like a mule’s kick. I used to be fine with alone. Damn you Jasmine, damn you for making me love you, damn you for saving me. You shouldn’t have got involved in the shit I had for a life.

A harsh distant sound cut my line of thought. The eco of the explosion began to flutter through my cell, cut only by the sound of a new explosion, this time close enough to make the whole building tremble.

“What the hell was that?” said the old man in the next cell.

“An explosion” I said, my view locked in the small window on the wall opposite to the door, just under the roof. The moon was full and it light mingled with the one from the candles creating a nice golden effect that covered the room.

My senses turned on, slowly, rusty, and filled me with an old know feeling. That’s why you never stop being a thief, that feeling, that state of mind that feels like home, your true only home. That and your criminal record, that shit never gets clean.

The third explosion was too close. I remember how the blue flames entered through the window and swiftly take over everything. I remember the warm of the blaze. I remember no pain.

“Come on kid” yell the old man while he helped me on my feet “this is our chance”

Everything came back in an instant. Suddenly, I was in a lot of pain. Don’t get me wrong, I can handle pain, but this was too much. I fell to my knees, which were already hurting a lot.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not waiting for you” said the old man as he started leaving.

I stayed there, on my knees, trying to absorb the new scene. The bars that used to imprison me were gone, the remaining walls were cover by a layer of obscure purple and thick greenish smog filled the whole place.

When my mind started clearing I stood up and walked towards the stairs. What the hell happened here?

I had my foot on the first step of the stairs when what I can only describe as a giant rag doll with thin grey hair flew just in front of me and end his journey against the stone wall, exploding on impact, in a really disturbing way. I’ll save you the details.

I jumped back instinctively and adopted my fighting stand – relaxed hands in front of my face, shoulders back, knees loose and always on my tiptoes. Something big was upstairs and I didn’t know what. All I could see was its huge shadow casted on the, now full of old man, wall.

The shadow flicked as Mr. Something entered to the room. The image of the creature ruffled my stomach. It looked like… it looked like a 3 meters man turned inside out. It had sharp shiny claws and its disturbing tong was hanging from its mouth, making a hypnotic pendulum-like movement.

 As soon as it saw me, Mr. Something rushed towards me. One would thought that a creature as big as that would be slow and clumsy. Well, think again. This thing was at least two times faster than me and it moved like a wolf in the woods.

I jumped to my right in an attempt to doge it but I was too slow. Its shoulder hit me in the abdomen throwing me against the wall. I recovered my position immediately, but it seems that immediately wasn’t fast enough. The beast was already charging once again and this time it hit me with full strength. I landed on the first step of the stairs.

This thing was stronger and faster than me. I couldn’t beat it in combat but running wasn’t an option either, it would catch me before I ended climbing the stairs. Desperately, I looked around me for something, anything that could win me a few seconds at least. Then I saw it.

The beast came at full speed, I only had one chance. The move was beautiful. I grabbed the old man’s shirt, soaking with blood – which made it heavy enough –, and I threw it to Mr. Something’s eyes at the same time as I moved away.  

Thank the gods it worked.

The beast hit hard against the stairs. Its head made a gong-like sound and the creature whip back, taking its hands against its face. I utilized that moment to run like hell.

I run. Run out of the prison and in to the woods, and then I run some more. I was just glad that I had lost that thing and that it was over. Little I knew, that was just the beginning. 

Submitted: June 07, 2015

© Copyright 2021 DantePanetta. All rights reserved.

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Short Story / Fantasy