*kicks machine, machine turns over* Whoop! Got it fixed! And just in time for a new chapter. Anyway, sorry about last week folks. Things got extremely hectic the past few weeks and I've been running catch up for the last three weeks. So besides a random katana *glares at Deadpool suspiciously* that was stuck in the writing machine I do believe we're all set. Go have fun and I'll see y'all at the end with some fun facts.
Chapter 21
Lucy P.O.V.
"Galuna City was originally a tribe of natives that were extremely superstitious and said to once practice magic. Even with their beliefs, they were a peaceful people and sought to remain neutral during the civil war in the 1800s. It was only in 1865 when Colonel Acnologia of the 144th Dragon Platoon mistakenly killed Chief Moka's son did the tribe join the war."
I roll my eyes, tuning out the tour guide and step away from the tour to observe a different exhibit. History has never interested me. A city I'll be robbing of extremely valuable jewels? Even less. I don't care about when they joined the civil war, which chief died in what year or even when the city developed. All I care about are the gorgeous dark purple jewels under some fucking heavy security.
Motion sensors, infrared cameras, bulletproof glass, and at least enough security guards to build a platoon. It's almost as if they expect someone to try and steal the moondripite.
How dare they guess my intentions?!
Taking down twenty-five armed guards isn't gonna be a walk in the park—I'll be the first to admit it—but it also won't be that hard.
My original plan still holds true, though it is nice to know I won't have to hunt down the guy who gave the information and make him severely regret it. If it had been wrong, meh who needs someone giving false information running around?
As it is, walking around the museum is a good way to check facts.
Facts like there are no windows in the room where the jewel exhibit is sitting. There are only two sets of double doors in or out of said exhibit. Both are guarded with two guards that switch off every four hours. Motion sensors, while off during the day, crisscross the floor in enough ways to make it impossible for someone to set even a toe down without the alarm tripping. All four glass cases in which the jewels sit are made up of two-inch thick plexiglass. Oh, and let's not forget the fact the four vents in the room are just barely big enough for a chihuahua to fit through.
Tough job? Understatement. Fun job? I can't wait to find out.
Having been here for a handful of hours already, I wander around for another hour to recheck my facts before I finally leave. Walking out the front doors among a herd of elderly people making their way to a bus parked out front.
The Inn I'm staying at wasn't chosen by chance. It is in fact three blocks away from the museum with another three blocks to the trails leading back to the railroad. Easy escape and easy hiding if things go south.
So it only takes me fifteen minutes to get back to the Inn. When I get back I pass Amy watering one of the rose bushes growing up the side of the building. On her shoulder, as it always seems to be, is the smaller black cat with the whole tail.
The cat meows when it sees me, drawing Amy's attention and I smile at the short brunette.
"Hi, Ms. May, how are you today?"
She rolls her eyes, setting the water jug down. "Please, Sarah, call me Amy. I hear Ms. May and I look over my shoulder for my mother."
I nod, looking at the cat in suspicion. Surely it must be my imagination but I swear the cat is glaring at me. "Well, Amy, how are you today?"
This time the brunette grins, reaching up to scratch the cat. "I'm good, it's such a beautiful day it'd be a waste to ignore it."
A cold wind blowing through the buildings and chilling everyone to the bone? Sure. Though the sunlight that gleams down through some of the clouds does feel good.
"That's good. Anyway, I think I'll be going." Amy arches an eyebrow.
"Have you tried Nikki's raisin cookies yet? She just baked some this morning."
I really need to get out here. If I don't I'll end up in the middle of an argument about the difference between margarine and butter. It happened this morning and if I'm in sight when those two get together I'll end up in the middle of another useless argument.
Not that knowing that butter is, in fact, creamier than margarine would help my baking career. Not.
Clearing my throat, I look for an escape. "Um, actually I'm afraid I won't be able to stay long. See I just came back to get my things and check out."
Hey, it's the truth.
Her shoulders slump just the slightest but it doesn't affect her tone. "Of course. That's quite alright. Whenever you're ready I'll go ahead and check you out."
Moving away from her I wouldn't say I sprint, more like I utilize the fact that my legs are long to increase the distance at a hastened pace. When I enter the Inn I ignore the sounds of dishes clattering from the door beside the counter and walk up the steps taking them two at a time.
At the top, I have to jump the last step to avoid the half-tail cat sleeping there then walk the rest of the way to the room I stayed in the past couple nights. While the smaller, more benign parts of the plan took a couple days to lay out I found it best to just leave my stuff here but now that I know the in and outs of the building layout and the guard routine I know where I can stash the stuff not needed inside the museum.
That and I can't exactly have anyone seeing me dressed in all black just hours before the museum alarms go off. It defeats the purpose of being anonymous.
As I grab the handful of knives stashed in various locations around the room I pause to look out the window, noting the rapidly darkening sky. The way I figure I have an hour to get to the forest to stash the nonessential bag then get back into the city and break into the museum.
The museum closes at sundown, but the hour is essential for the guards to slacken their surveillance since no one could possibly be dumb enough to rob it after hours.
I stop, glaring at the opposite wall, and silently vow to wring Makarov's neck until he tells me why the fuck he sent me on this suicide mission.
Strangle him, hang him by his toes and use him as a target to—I shake my head, cutting off that thought and look up when the stand beside the bed begins to vibrate. My eyes fall on the Bluetooth I may have forgotten to put on when I left this morning and rush to do so now, the call connecting to an enraged snarl.
"I've been trying to call you for an hour. Where have you been?"
Slipping a knife into a sheath sewn into the wall of the bag I snort, not nearly as fazed by her anger as I probably should be. "What do you think I was doing?" Mindful that someone may be listening, I switch to code, turning to grab my boots. "I was checking out the house to see what would have to be fixed. Gotta be honest, it'll take me a little while to make all the repairs."
The line goes quiet as she thinks and I take the chance to zip up my bag, throwing it out into the hallway before looking for anything I might've missed.
"How much will you be able to do in a night?"
I grin. "To be honest, Erz, I could probably do it in less if Cobra's loan works the way it supposed to."
Even as I tell her this, my eyes wander to my bag where the black box sits. 'That black box' being an Electric Magnetic Pulse I bartered off one of the bartenders at Makarov's bar. Well, bartered off her boyfriend but same thing.
Supposedly he's some tech geek working as a private contractor for the military with a side flow of selling weapons to the outside groups.
Anyway, he offered a deal I couldn't resist. I try out his newest E.M.P. and if it doesn't work he gives me a blank check. Since it's only good for one use, and only for an hour and a half at that, I'll have to be picky about when I use it which is why it's perfect for tonight.
Leaving the room, I grab my bag and turn down the hall. "Just remind him that if it doesn't work I'll gladly take that check."
She snorts, amusement clear in the gesture. "What makes you think you'll live long enough to get back here to take it?"
Playfully I gasp, throwing my bag over my shoulder as I jog down the last couple steps. "I cannot believe that you dare underestimate my skills. There will be consequences for this."
"Sure, Ms. Heartfilia. In the meantime don't do anything stupid."
I roll my eyes, approaching the desk to see Amy petting the half-tail cat. "And here I thought you knew me better. Anyway, I gotta go. I'll call you another time."
She hangs up without another word.
Amy turns to a laptop I only now notice sitting open off to the side and turns it on, looking back at me. "Your total will be six hundred and fifty jewel for the three-night stay and I'll need your key back please."
Reaching into a side pocket of my bag I pull out the small wallet Erza gave me before I left and count out the money required, setting it and the key on the counter. While she rings it up on the computer my eyes land on the green-eyed cat sleeping on a shelf three feet above Amy's head.
"What are their names again?" The brunette tilts her head to me in confusion and I gesture to the cats. "What are their names?"
This time she grins, reaching up to pet the half-tail. "Well, this one here is Handsome. Nikki named him that because she thinks he's so handsome. I think she should've named him Halftail. The monster sleeping up there," she points to the green-eyed cat. "is Fury. Nikki wanted to name her Toothless after the Night Fury on How To Train Your Dragon but I figured out it was a female so she settled with me calling it Fury."
Then she leans forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Let me tell you, she can be quite the devil sometimes."
As if on cue the cat—Fury—leaps off the shelf, landing on Amy's back and climbing up to her shoulder once more.
The brunette gives me a knowing look, pointing to the cat. "See? Speak of the devil and she shall appear." Amy shakes her head, returning to the computer and a laugh escapes me at the cat's smug expression.
After a minute she prints up a receipt and hands it to me. "Here you are. I hope you enjoyed your stay at Casa Maybelle and that we'll see you again."
I grin, raising the piece of paper in my hand to her in salute as I walk to the door. "Thank, Amy. I think I will. Tell Nikki I said bye."
There's close to no chance I'll actually be back here but if I do—if we do—I'll definitely stop by to say hello to the crazy ladies and their cats who could almost be human.
Walking the three blocks to the forest edge is strange. When the sun touches the horizon it's as if the streets are poisoned for not a soul walks the sidewalks. Where earlier in the day it was more likely to be jabbed by a wild elbow on accident now it's safe enough to walk from one side of town to the other without a worry.
I've noticed this fact the night I walked into the city. At first, I just thought it was a city-wide curfew thing. Until I asked Nikki the previous night.
"It's a preventative measure. Folks around here are super superstitious so they believe that if they stay inside after sundown the 'demons' won't steal their bodies."
"That's impossible." I sputter, looking at her suspiciously. "Ghosts aren't real. Let alone demons."
She shrugs, setting down the last plate on the table. "I've lived in this town almost a decade now. I've seen a lot of things that couldn't be explained by science. Amy's the only other who's willing to go out after dark if only because she always has an extra set of eyes to watch her back."
Nikki looks up at the hazel eyed cat sitting in the china cabinet before she turns to the kitchen. I follow her, casting a look at the cat as I pass.
"Surely there are tourists who are out after dark?" She picks up a plate of deer meat drowning in gravy and passes it to me, giving me a look I can't quite determine.
"In the summer, aye, tourists are out in full force. But any other time of the year when it's even the slightest bit cold out the darker things come out. For those who don't live in the city or are just visiting they end up scratched." She curls the fingers of her hand into a claw, grinning evilly. "Things that might seem like reality are a dream and dreams become reality. So if you plan on going out, watch your back."
As our conversation comes to mind I snort, but still cast an extra glance to the alleys as I pass by. I might not be one to believe in the paranormal but even I know when to not push my luck.
The fact that I might be wishing for one of those cats to watch my back may or may not be forcefully pushed into a trunk, chained, locked, and dropped into the deepest pits of my mind.
Reaching the edge of the forest I breathe a small sigh of relief and jog down a hidden path. About twenty minutes in I come across an old broken down shed overgrown with vegetation. The door on it hangs off the hinges, obviously having been broken off long ago, and I step inside just long enough to hide my unneeded bag out of sight.
Once I'm sure of the shed's location comparable to the train tracks and to the city, I turn back the way I came, my tool bag slung over my head.
Normal P.O.V.
Smoke discolors the air, floating up to cling to the single lamp hanging above a circular table. Five men, dressed in similar charcoal gray museum uniforms sit around it, in each of their hands a set of cards.
One of the guards grins and a cigar—the source of the smoke—flicks ashes across the man beside him. "Alright boys," he displays his hand for the others. "Read 'em and weep!"
The man beside him coughs, smacking the ash off himself. "For fuck's sake, Carl. That's the fifth hand this game."
Cackling wildly Carl collects the pot of snacks sitting in the middle of the table. When he sits up he smirks at his neighbor.
"What can I say, Gene? I'm just lucky tonight."
A giggle, lighter and more feminine than any the men can produce grabs their attention and all five look up to see a figure leaning against a shelf. The figure is hidden in shadow and Gene squints, getting barely a better look.
"Oi, the museum is closed and this room is off limits. What do you think you're doing here?"
She remains in her spot, hidden in the shadows though the guard thinks he sees her tilt her head. "Oh, I know the museum is closed. In fact, that's why I'm here."
There's something in her voice—something about the way she speaks that puts the guards on edge. Gene begins to slide his hand to the pistol at his side. Trying to keep the mysterious woman distracted as he does, he decides to speak.
"May I ask why that is?"
She giggles again, the sound sounding off to the guard. "Oh, you know. This, that, a few stones here, a few stones there."
The dots visibly connect in each of the guards' heads one after the next but before they can act four dull pops sound off. One by one the guards slump around the table until Gene is the last alive.
He dry swallows, watching as the woman steps into the light. Lucy smiles softly at him, her red hair drifting to cover one eye as she raises the silenced pistol to him. He can't decide what throws him off more, the fact that the femme fatale standing before him os hot enough to be on the cover of a magazine or that her smile is as innocent as it is cruel.
"Now, Mr. Sims, I have one question for you." Her honeyed tone draws his mind back to his present predicament and he nods hastily, letting her know he's listening. Her smile morphs into a dark grin. "When is the next shift change due?"
Gene swallows once more, feeling as of he'd just swallowed a desert. "It just changed. They won't be back for three and a half hours."
Lucy hums, her chocolate brown eyes similar to tree bark. "Thank you. I'll be sure to inform the others you've snitched on them."
Has that pistol always gleamed like ice? He needs an out and he needs one now.
"Wait!" He throws up a hand, his gray eyes pleading. "If you let me live I can turn the cops off your trail."
She tsks, leaning forward to drag a sharp nail across his cheek. When she got so close, he doesn't know but the touch has a shiver going down his spine. "Oh, sweetheart, there's only one man I'll ever leave alive and you're not him."
With that she pulls the trigger, his body slumping forward in his seat. Lucy checks his pulse and when she finds none she pats his head gingerly before moving in between the bodies to the table.
After she slides on her gloves she pulls the black Rubix cube from her bag. The cube itself is completely black save a small green circle located on the top of the cube. She presses her thumb to this circle before setting it in the middle of the table. From there she watches in fascination as the neon green begins to spread down the sides drawing more circular patterns as it does.
When the green reaches the bottom the light overhead flickers and Lucy grins as she hears the light break.
"The E.M.P. will not only disable but short circuit and destroy all electronics in half a block." She murmurs the words told to her and grins, shaking her head. "Well, I'll be damned. Cobra was right."
Moving away from the table she pauses and removes a pouch from her back pocket. She frowns, sliding a pair of glasses from the pocket. "Now let's see if he's right about this."
She rubs a thumb along the frames until she finds a small switch hidden in the arm. A small click sounds and she slides on the glasses blinking a couple times to absorb the greens and yellows she's seeing.
After a minute she carefully steps forward, comparing her memory of the space to the shapes she's seeing. Once she's comfortable with it the red-head moves quickly, walking toward the stairs leading out.
The door at the top opens with a small squeak causing her to pause; her ears focusing on the hall before her. When no footsteps come she slips out grabbing a small tube from her bag as she turns to the face the door.
Lucy grins, unscrewing the cap and has to bite back a giggle as she places a few drops of glue on the door jam. She lets the door close and walks away, her explorations from earlier guiding her in the direction of the exhibit.
A few turns later she comes to a stop at an intersection. Moonlight filters through a window down the hall from her, only slightly illuminating the hall. She hums quietly in thought, looking between the three halls in indecision and trying to remember the path when a noise catches her attention.
"What do you think happened?"
Lucy pauses and tilts her head. Footsteps come from the hall to her right so she ducks behind a wooden totem, her glasses lighting up at the sight of the two guards walking her way.
"Probably something shorted. Wouldn't be the first time it happened."
The guards walk by her, continuing down the hall and the red-head grins, slipping from her spot to follow them. As she follows them she recognizes the guards, her eyes going to the keyring strapped to the older guard's belt.
The limited light has the guards sometimes stumbling in their steps. At one such stumble, Lucy uses the opening to bring the first guard down, her arm wrapping around his throat. With a nearly inaudible crack his neck is broke; his partner none the wiser.
"Say, think we should call this in?"
The second guard looks back in confusion when he doesn't get a reply and is met with the sight of a silver barrel in his face.
"Make one sound, one move, and you'll join your partner." He nods, unable to see the attacker in the dark. "Good, now hand over your keys."
He's frozen; his eyes solidly on the gun. The hammer cocking snaps him from his paralysis and he swallows, slowly reaching for the key ring. The guard pulls it off, his hand shaking as he holds it out.
Unseen to him Lucy grins. Planning this she never thought it would go so well. That the guards could be too stupid to put up a fight. Reaching out she snatches it from him, in the same instance swinging the gun at his temple. When he crumples to the ground unconscious she tucks the gun and keys into her bag and approaches him, quickly dispatching him in much the same fashion as his partner.
She hides the bodies. It wouldn't do to have one of the remaining survivors find her handy work before she reaches her target after all.
Fifteen minutes later finds her hiding behind a statue, her eyes focused on the unguarded doors to the exhibit. She frowns, looking up and down the hall in worry. To be worried or not… That is the question. One turning over in her mind multiple times in the handful of minutes she's hid behind the statue.
Still, time is not on her side to worry about missing guards.
The red-head decides to risk it. She leans over, bending at the waist as she makes a run for the doors. When she reaches them she grabs a handle and pulls it open wide enough for her to slip through. It closes behind her, a squeak from the hinges causing her to cringe.
A minute passes by and when no alarms are raised she relaxes, turning to take in the otherwise pitch black room illuminated through the glasses. The cases light up a forest green and she approaches the closest one. Her hands dip into her bag, only to come up a couple seconds later with the crowbar and hammer.
She eyes the glass carefully, resting the teeth of the crowbar on the very corner of the glass where sides meet top.
"The corners are the weakest part of any piece of glass. Even if it's inches thick. Strike the corner just right and—" The hammer comes down, a light tap causing a great spider web to shoot across the case. It crumbles in on itself, a tinkling sound following the glass splinters hitting the ground.
Returning the hammer and crowbar to her bag she pulls out a fabric pouch, this one held closed by a simple black drawstring. She holds the pouch open with one hand and with the other she grabs the quarter sized gems sitting on the glass covered pillow. Then she grimaces feeling something dig into the finger of her glove.
"Really should've thought this over better." She growls, raising her hand to her mouth to pull out a glass sliver. With her other hand, she grabs a handful of gems, carefully brushing away more glass shards as she does.
Once the case is clean she moves onto the next. A pattern of glass hitting the ground followed by a few choice curses picks up over the next ten minutes. Until she reaches the last case.
She aims the hammer over the crowbar, eyeing it carefully and brings it with a gentle tap. As the glass shatters a creak from nearby double doors catches her attention. She pauses reaching a handout for the gems and turns to look at the doors. At first she doesn't make out anyting and then the glass is picking up a slight movement. The door opens inch by inch until she can make out a hand from one of the guards on the doorknob. With the knowledge that her time is up, she reaches for the rest of the jewels ignoring the glass splinters.
"Whoever's there put your hands up and leave the jewels alone."
Lucy smirks reaching into her bag to grab her gun with one hand while she dumps the rest of the jewels in the bag with the other. With the glasses illuminating the guard for her to see she doesn't have a second thought about raising her gun and pulling the trigger just once.
She knows she only has two rounds left but with all the gems collected she's not worried. Quickly closing the bag of gems she sets it in her side bag and jogs for the door, stopping by the guard on the way out to grab the gun from his holster.
Running back the way she came the blonde takes careful note to listen for footsteps. With her focusing so hard she misses the steps of front of her until she hears the hammer cock on a pistol. She pauses beneath the window, the dim moonlight barely illuminating her in the darkened hall.
For the first time since she put them on the glasses betray her. They blind her in the moonlight preventing her from seeing the guard hidden in the shadow in front of her.
"Freeze!" She can only do as the guard says; unable to make out how the situation has gone so wrong. She can't see the guard, she can't see the gun, and she can't see a way out of the corner she's been backed into. "Drop your weapon and put your hands in the air!"
With her mind turning, her eyes once again land on the window. Lucy leans over barely catching a glimpse of the ground two stories below. She grins looking back at the guard.
"No thank you," The blonde states smugly. "I think I'll keep my hands right where they are."
As she expects the guard takes it the wrong way. She drops to the floor, her face to the ground as he shoots. The bullets go wild, busting open the window and Lucy jumps up, running for the hole.
Placing her hand on a part of the ledge mostly free of glass she goes to vault over, only to scream in pain when the guard fires his final shot. Lucy hits the ground, stumbling to her feet and turns back. She locks eyes with the guard, switching her gun from her injured right to her left and fires twice.
Sirens sound in the distance but murderous glee replaces worry for a few short seconds as she watches the dead guard slump against the window. Then she jogs down the alley, coming to a stop by the open basement window. She sets her bag down and climbs through, returning only a minute later with the E.M.P. in hand.
She zips up the bag, throws it over her shoulder, running into the shadows of the alleyway just as red and blue lights race down the block to the front of the building.
Fun facts:
1) My cat is named Fury. The story about the demon almost being called Toothless is in fact true. Only it was my cousin who originally was supposed to own the cat who wanted to name her after the dragon and my mother who convinced her to stick with Fury. Do I love the demon? Yes, yes I do. Is she a little monster that terrorizes the house? Yes, yes she is.
2) My Aunt's cat is named Handsome. He is in fact missing half his tail. I think he should've been called Halftail but then again I may have read the Warrior's Series by Erin Hunter too much.
3) My mother and my Aunt both have a strong connection to the paranormal. I believe in ghosts, I believe in demons. This is why I refuse to have anything to do with Ouija boards or horror movies.
Now that that's done let's go ahead with the reviews.
MnMAllyn, AWWW, thank you. I'm so glad you like the dynamic. The Bonnie and Clyde/Joker and Harley Quinn theme that's forming was not something I was expecting when I started this story but it's definitely an awesome addition.
Gingershipper, *winks* Your wish is my command. Please settle back and enjoy the ride. Just make sure you keep all hands and limbs within the car at all times because this shit is a roller coaster. *Grins*
FlameDragonHime, She did not fake her death for a mission. Makarov faked her death for... TBA. NO SPOILERS. That said I hope you enjoyed the chapter.
Sam, Let's call letting Lucy run around practice for what is to come. those gems are gonna come in handy but you won't find out why until the end. *Winks* It's gonna be a few more chapters before Makey reveals his ulterior motive but in the mean time please enjoy the torture and smut I have planned. (Not in the same scene now.) Dude, if you enjoyed that threat you'd like some of the shit the admin of the FB page, Mira and I come up with.
Shana, aye, it's like shifting gears. Each new gear gets us closer to the answer. That just may or may not involve Grimoire Heart and the Prime Minister but shhh. You didn't hear that from me.
Pixie Pixel, *arches eyebrow* who said anything about not killing anyone? I'd say there was most definitely death in this chapter. But now I gotta ask myself. What the fuck is up with all these guards? Honestly I have no clue, they just keep appearing. As for the cats, please read the fun facts ^ ^ ^
*looks at Deadpool* You fucking gave her the plot book didn't you?! *Deadpool holds his hands up* Wait, Grizz, I didn't do it. She doesn't have the plot book! I do! *Pulls out said book, glares at him* Okay, just had to make sure. These theories are almost scary accurate.
Karsyn, It's all good. The execution of the chapter didn't go as smoothly as I wanted it too but now that we're moving in the right direction things will be getting explained.
Silver Light of Dawn, this is just the beginning. The basics of their roles are gonna remain the same throughout the story it's just how that role applies to the other characters that's gonna change. If that makes sense...
"Brother, is there something wrong?"
Kristoff ignores me, glaring at Father. "Is it true?"
Father sets the paper in his hand on the desk, steepling his fingers to look at my brother the way a scientist would look at a new bug.
"Kristopher, I'm afraid you're gonna have to be more specific. As it is I should be calling the guards to remove you to your room for storming in here the way you have."
Brother raises one hand, pointing at Father in a deprecating gesture. "Don't give me that shit, Jude," I bite my lip in fright. Kristoff has never called Father by his name; it is forbidden to do so. "Tell me right here right now. Why. The. Fuck. Are. You. Selling. Us?!"
Grizzly out for the night.
P.S. Y'all, I really am sorry about last week. I try to have a chapter for y'all each week but sometimes things don't go the way I want them to and I end up with only half a chapter written. That said I do hope this made up for the delay and that I'll see ya again next week.