A Thief’s Folly-Blanche-

Hello and we have the last of this current series, probably not the last forever, but right now I’m currently working on another series, but this time it’s more akin to a novella, as in the short story extends beyond and is not as dysfunctional as this one. But for now we have the current last story in A Thief’s Folly featuring an interesting thief, who has less morals than the other thief’s, but still does her job rather well. This time I tried to focus more on the act of it and again more on the world building. It’s rather short and was probably more experimental than the other one’s, but it is what it is. Here you go, “A Thief’s Folly-Blanche-“.

My consciousness had risen, however, I myself was still stuck in place. I open my eyes to see a world of black. I know I’m awake. I feel my feet and hands move, and I feel the blanket over me. My eyes are open, or so they seem. I bring my hands up over my eyes, and feel the dark ridges beneath them. My memories begin to seep back into my head, and I know why I cannot see. I often forget sometimes when I’m drinking. Everything just seems vivid when I drink. I wonder why.

I bring my back up forcefully and stretch my limbs, pretending that a carriage of horses are dragging them apart. I walk over to the door and open it, yawning and making sure my hands remain in front of me. I step into the hallway, and begin scaling the wall to the right in hopes of finding a doorway. Once I do, I slowly enter, and feel my feet bump into a cabinet door. I reach my hands down until they feel a knob, and I twist, pretending that blood begins to ooze from the tap. I pile my hands under the blood and splash some into my face. I bring my hand to the left, and grab the towel and wipe my face off, pretending as if I was cleaning evidence from a crime.

I step back into the hallway, and make my way down the hall into what I thought was a kitchen or living area. Or at least, both of them are connected. I can’t tell. I keep walking, until I bump into a soft cushion, and I recognize it as a sofa. I climb over, and bend down until my hand reaches a surface. I know I had left a particular stimulant from the previous night, and I search the table as if I was a crime boss looking for a gun.

“Looking for this Miss Blanche?” The voice was from Erin. I was assigned to him from the Officials. I imagine him to be a handsome  young lad with bright blonde hair that would serve as my left hand in my drug raids. Though, not much truth has been given to that.  He hangs something in front of my face, I feel it. I don’t bother to grab it and simply respond, “I would be.”

“And you know how the Officials deal with the illicit use of enhancers?” His voice creeps up into my ears, and I feel the tempting urge to bash my skull into his face.

“The Officials don’t need to know anything about this.” I hear Erin sigh, and he places the needle on the table. I hear him circle around and turn on the T.V. I take the needle, and place it in my pockets before getting up.

“And I presume you’re going on another stroll Miss Blanche?” I smile, and without turning, answer, “Only if the Officials don’t know.” Erin sighs again, this time verbally louder. I make my way to the door, and reach my hand over to the knob and turn. I feel the sunlight paint over my face like a sheet of nails forcefully suffocating me. I grab the needle from my pocket, and inject it into my arms. I imagine the liquid slipping into my veins like morphine. My senses begin to heighten and I can see the objects around me through vibrations. With each step I take, my foot makes a sound wave that bounces off the solid surfaces of everything around me, and I can predict through that what an object is and its location.  Although, with my foot alone, it doesn’t help much, and so the enhancers do most of the work. I begin making my way up towards the border of the upper district. The guards shine a light onto me as I arrive, and I wave towards the direction. I grab a card from my pocket, and hold it up for them. It takes them a few moments, but soon the light fades, and I walk through the border, noticing that the guards have lowered their guns.

I feel the vibrations of marble buildings all around me. Sounds of expensive shoes and accessories dangle among the people who pass me by and I begin feeling a sense of propensity that the people of the upper district seem to carry. I eventually weave my way to a more defined structure that has large glass pane windows. I open the door, and hear the jingles that ring in my ear for far too long and pretend that I’m a robber with a gun. I smile at the worker who hovers over me as I walk in, and begin making sense of the locations of all the objects around me. The jewelry is stuck behind glass cases with locks, not to mention the cameras in each corner of the store. I take a deep breath, and begin thinking of how this is going to go down. I’ve done a plethora of heists and gigs before this, this shouldn’t be a problem. Stores like this have sensors at the front door so a sleight of hand would prove problematic unless I can mitigate that. I begin stepping forward towards the counter to gather more information. There appears to be a heavy load behind the counter, a back door, probably to a storage unit. I make more rounds. There are two registers, and a larger monitor that’s tucked away towards the back. I assume that’s for the security cameras. Two people are stationed at the counter, and although one of them is closer to the monitor, they can’t always have eyes on the screens. In total, there are four people in the store. I make another round around the store to make sure, and I begin hearing a strange metallic sound under the counter. A weapon of sorts judging from the barrel. I have a sequence in my head of the plan, and I know with great certainty that they can’t see it within my eyes.

I trace my hands to the top of the glass counter and although I can’t discern the color of the ring, I point to it and say, “Mind if I see this?” I feel the cashiers look at each other, with one of them giving in and taking the ring out of the case and handing it to me. I feel the ring around my fingers. It’s smooth. That much I can tell. I place the ring back down, and with that vibration, feel the rest of the counter. I ask, “Can I see the necklace down there?” The cashier to the left puts away the ring while the one to my right gets the necklace. I begin to understand their dynamic. As I get the necklace, I begin inspecting it. Another fine craft. The cashiers don’t seem any more suspicious of me, and that makes me calm. It makes my job easier. I put down the necklace, and wait until the cashier returns it before I make my next move. I ask for the bracelet, and after receiving it and inspecting it, inquire whether they have it in a different size. The cashiers pause for a brief moment, but one of them leaves and enters the back room. I take a deep breath, and then ask the remaining cashier to see if I can try the bracelet on. After feeling his nod, I put it on, and make conversation, “Sorry if I scared you. Probably don’t get much of my kind here do you.”

“No. Not someone as perceptive as you, that’s for sure.”

“You get any big wigs out here?” He stops and thinks about it. I can tell he’s very cautious of me, knowing I have the bracelet on.  The one at the door has stopped paying attention as well. The bracelet has a strange insignia on it, and I reckon covering it will dissuade the scanners. At least, covering it with blood.

“No. Our store is pretty small compared to the more well known ones in the upper district.”

“Though you are in the upper district. That much is impressive.”

“Business has been bad these days. You know how things are. Competition breeds failure.”

“Makes you wonder the state of the country.” He stops and I feel him squinting. Good.

“Blood is thicker than water. That’s what they said, didn’t they?”

“They’ll have it for themselves before they have it for the rest of us.” I hear him sigh.

“After all, it’s their country. They can do whatever they want, and we simply live among their strings.” I pause, and wait, I hear the other cashier coming back.

“Well, at least that’s what I’ve come to conclude. To each their own.” I turn and then wave, saying, “I actually have to be on my way, god speed to your sales.” I wave using the arm with the bracelet on, tucking it further in my sleeves, out of sight. As I begin walking towards the door, I press my finger onto the bracelet until I feel blood trickle, and I cover the insignia with it. I step out of the door without trouble, and make my way out of the sector. I sigh and know for a fact that they’ll want my head around the sectors after reviewing the footage. I’ll be sure to tell Erin that. We’ll have to change faces again. And probably our names. Blanche is getting old. Maybe I can get a new pair of eyes. Though, that is a pipe dream. Even capitalism can’t fix that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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