Fiction : Walking Alone

Being alone was something that Kilan had been used to. In his younger days, there was never any friends to speak of, and his family hadn't cared what he did or what happened to him.

“Come on,” Hithal said.

The young man speaking to him was Kilan's newest colleague. They were assigned to do this task together. Apparently it was impossible to do alone.

“I'm coming.”

The two men jogged over the dusty street and came to the high wall surrounding the small mansion they were to infiltrate. The moonlight was bright enough for Kilan to make out small cracks and imperfections in the wall. Equipped with hand claws, to make the climbing easier, the two partners proceeded to scale the tall barrier.

It was never part of Kilan's life plan to be illegally entering people's homes and climbing walls to achieve this, but he needed the money. He actually hated the idea of being put in such a dangerous position. Mostly, Kilan had avoided danger, but now he was walking directly into it.

After a few seconds, Kilan and Hithal landed on the soft grass on the other side. The sheer size and beauty of the garden not only astounded, but also disgusted Kilan. Such a waste of precious resources and time to create these overly vast yards.

“The window is over here. You go around to the dogs. You know what to do,” Hithal whispered.

Kilan nodded and split away from their meeting. The plan had been thoroughly explained to him beforehand. The boss had said that there was only two ways that the night could end for Kilan : Success, or death. Since he didn't want the latter, Kilan hurried to his designated spot.

The rather useless dogs lay in their kennels, and had seemingly not heard the two intruders. Kilan crept closer and hid behind a large square cut bush. He lifted his hand and checked his watch. The seconds counted by, every one bringing him closer to the time they had agreed upon. Hithal would now be on his way to the window, getting ready to break it.

Fiction - The Exchange

A musty scent hung in the air. Slivers of light filtered in through breaks in the boards that covered the windows. A single table, flanked by two identical chairs, stood in the middle of the room. A thick layer of dust covered every flat space.

Michael tread carefully into the house. His gaze scanned the room, halting on the portrait that was hanging on the wall. He walked over to it, inspecting the golden frame. He wondered who the woman in the picture was. Time had eaten away at the paper, leaving the woman nearly unidentifiable. Michael easily identified the frame as early eighteenth century, judging it by the design and the damage that nature had caused it.

The door creaked behind Michael, causing him to turn around. Light blinded him for a second, and only when the door slammed shut could he finally see who had arrived.

Jeremy nodded at him half-heartedly. Michael stepped forward, holding out his hand. He had been waiting for some time to meet this man.

“How're you doin'?” Jeremy asked. His joints creaked as he sat down.

“Good, good. It is an absolute honour to-”

“I know. Now get on with it.”

“Right. I have the treasure here,” Michael said, groping around in his jacket pocket.

“You know, my grandpa used to live in a shack, just like this one. All dusty and old. I'd not be surprised if this is it.”

Michael continued searching until he finally pulled out a black stone.

“Ah, here it is. I was told you'd have the money?”

“We'd go huntin' in the winters, camping out in this lil' place. It was the only time I really got to spend with 'im.”

“Right. Do you have the money with you?”

“Money? Oh, yes.” Jeremy searched a bit and revealed a small silver case. “My old lady gave this to me. She said I should always keep my most valued treasure in here.”

 “You can keep the case, if that's what you're worried about.” Micheal quickly weighed the case in his mind, taking the possible materials into consideration. “Probably not worth much anyway.”