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    Young Sage
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Chicago Wildlife - 4. An Identity Crisis and Heavy Flirting

Eventually, I’m standing outside the museum. Well, I’m actually crouching in some bushes nearby, given that those pesky museum developers didn’t think to build any nearby buildings for me to use as a vantage point (besides the Shedd Aquarium and the Adler Planetarium, both just as annoying to scale and/or break into as the museum). How very inconsiderate of them. I do my best to survey the surrounding area from my position. Nobody walking in or out. A majority of the lights turned off. Both good signs that the museum is still closed and not put on high alert. There’s a digital board down the road that displays the time and temperature. I check that out. Perfect. Despite all those dumbass distractions, I’m still on time for the changing of the guards, albeit with less free time to look things over once and plan around any new developments.

I make my way around to the side of the building facing the lake. Thanks to some juicy info I got from a broker, I know the exact place where the motion sensors are. I take out a pair of doodads and place them very carefully on two specific points on the ground. These two beauties block the motion sensor lasers without tripping any alarms, tricking the program into thinking that the laser beam hasn’t been broken. I pass between the devices and carefully remove them. Well, if any alarms have been activated, I wouldn’t know about it until I enter the building. Silent alarms and all that.

I walk over to the side of the building and take out my handy dandy grappling gun, firing it up to the roof. The hook secures itself, I make sure the rope is strong enough to hold my weight, and then I start climbing up the wall. What, did you expect me to just waltz through the front door? I make my way up to the top and scan the area. Good, no guards up here. Now let’s see here …where was the window that leads to the Nano Wrimo Diamond? Three to the right, two down …ah, there it is. I sneak my way towards the lucky window in question. I peer into it. A guard walks past, flashlight in hand, scanning the hallway for troublesome pests. Who would dare enter such a respected establishment, uninvited, during closing hours, with the intent to illegally gain some artifact solely for monetary means? Certainly not I.

The guard goes into the other room. Now’s my chance. I take out the doodads once again and place them on the edges of the window, just in case the window itself is motion sensored. Then I take out a laser pen I had clipped onto my suit collar back at the convenience store, and start slicing a hole into the window. A three by three foot hole should be enough. Before I complete the circle, I place my adhesive hand on the glass and make sure it’s going to stick before closing off the circle, pulling the glass back, and presto! One easy breezy beautiful entrance and escape route. Eh, I’ll duck tape it back together later. No one will ever notice. I peer into the hole and double-check to make sure no guards were nearby. According to my research, the changing of the guards should be happening right about now. For a couple of minutes, no one will be patrolling. The best chance I’ve got at getting in, swiping the diamond, and getting out without being shot full of holes. As it turns out, the guard I saw is standing in the hallway, chatting with a second guard.

“…still think the Nano Wrimo Diamond is just a shiny beacon beckoning that cat burglar to come swipe it. What’s his name, Cataclysm?”

“Nah, I think it was some other cat pun, like Catastrophe.”

They laugh.

“Main Boon. Isle of Manx.”

“Siamese Steal. Bengal Burglar. Savannah Swipe.”

The indignity!

“Toyger Terror. Bombay Boxer. Nebelung Puncture!”

“Rushin’ Blew. Bob Tail. Abyss I. Nyan. Devon Rex.”

“Singapurr. Korat Karat. Bail In Ease.”

“Midnight Minx. Black Cat. Night Panther.”

“Ooh, better not use those! I think you run the risk of a copyright infringement!”

They laugh even more, and then turn to go back to the guard station. And what, exactly, about my suit and stealing diamonds means that I have to have a cat name?! Just because I’m a cat burglar, doesn’t mean I center everything around a cat motif! I should just steal the diamond and get back home before Lokitty decides to poop on my bed again.

I drop down from the window. The diamond will be located a few rooms to the right. I dash to the corner of the entranceway and peer into the next room. As I suspected. A security camera. Time for another gadget. I take out what honestly looks like a toy squirt gun painted black and aim it at the camera and fire. The red light on the security camera turns off, telling me that this scrambler did its job and the camera is now experiencing a bad case of the fits. I run through the room, perform the same trick in the next room, and the next. Finally, I’m at the room housing the Nano Wrimo Diamond. Gadget time. I take out a different device, this one resembling a breath-refresher spray, and spray the immediate area. This makes the motion sensor lasers visible to the naked eye. Time for a show.

I maneuver my way through the laser field, flipping, bending, scooching, sliding, and tiptoeing around lasers with elegance and style. I only sort of wish that I hadn’t disabled the camera so that at least somebody would appreciate my moves. In less than a minute, I’m standing right next to the exceedingly beautiful Nano Wrimo Diamond. It is, of course, encased in glass, but when’s that ever stopped me before? I get out my laser pen again to slice a hole into the glass case.

Suddenly the whole room has been cast in red, and a shrilling siren alarm blares. I look over to the entrance I took in and there he was… a face full of complications... and deliberately stepping on one of the lasers with his big, oafish feet.

“You come here often?” Foxy says.

I guess the anger must have shown on my face, because he then continues with an “Oh, so you CAN play the strong, silent type when the chance presents itself. I didn’t know that. We should really talk one-on-one more often. How about we do that right now, as I’m escorting you to prison?”

I took a moment to recompose myself.

“Offering to walk me home is sweet and all, but isn’t it past your bedtime? You don’t want to be late for kindergarten tomorrow, do you?”

“You know, baby-face jokes are only used when the person saying them is wrinkled and …hey!”

While he was too busy trying to make a witty retort, I start running straight at him. He takes a bracing stance, and I drop to my knees, bending over backwards, going right between his legs. But then he simply catches me by the neck and throws me back into the room.

“You’re not escaping this time, Dee!”

I rub my tender neck.

“So how’d you find me, Foxy? Someone tip you off? Facebook? Or did daddy have to do all the hard work for you?”

“How about ‘the only place in the city that’s holding a big, sparkly diamond?’ Coupled with ‘kleptomaniac with a psychosis that compels him to only steal expensive gems?’ Oh, but let me guess: you’re too special to be soooo easily figured out. Is that it?”

I take off my laser revealer device and throw it at him like it was a live grenade. He puts his hands up to shield himself from it, and by then, I’m performing a leaping kick to his exposed torso. This knocks him back a couple steps, but not enough to get past him.

“Baby, how about we save the hurtful comments until after we’re in bed, hm?”

And with that, our foreplay of violence begins. He brings the punches, I dodge and weave in ways you wouldn’t believe. I deliver some kicks, and besides a requisite “oof,” I doubt he’s actually experiencing any pain from them. Maybe a mild discomfort, like when an arm hair gets caught in fabric and gets ripped off. I hate when that happens. All the while during this fight, the room is painted red and the siren keeps blaring. Foxy isn’t letting me through the doorway, and reinforcements should arrive any minute now. Gotta think fast, Robin.

I throw a punch to his face. He catches my fist. I throw another punch with my other hand. He catches that, too. I put some oomph behind both and try to outpower him. I lean my head in closer. He does the same, probably anticipating a headbutt or, heaven forbid, a bite. I then close the gap between us and kiss him on the lips. In my later defense, he didn’t instinctually pull away either. I slip some tongue in there as well, just to sweeten the deal. To my surprise, he tries to slip his tongue in there as well. Hmhm, so he does have feelings after all. I pull my face back, smiling like a giddy schoolgirl.

And then I knee him in the crotch as hard as I can, and as he’s crumpling onto the floor, grunting in pain, I flip over him and turn around to face his juicy glutes.

“Thanks for the snack attack, Foxy. We should do this again soon.”

And then I run back to where I got into this mess in the first place. By now the guards are arriving on the screen.

“Freeze! Or we’ll shoot!”

“Drop your weapon!”

“Hands behind your head!”

Oh, I put my hands behind my head alright, griping the rope I brought down earlier. Then I flip up and catch the rope with my feet, flip again and catch it with my hands, then with my feet, and finally I’m at the top of the window. The guards are now shooting at me, so I don’t wait around to give them some hilarious doozy of a zinger. I. Am.

OUT. OF. HERE! By the time it takes for Foxy to come up here and try to sniff my tracks, I’ll be long gone. And of course, without a single victory in my hand. Which was …of course…

The plan to get back to my apartment goes with surprisingly little hitch. I get back to my convenience store and undress and soon I am just a faceless mask in a morally depressed crowd. I make my way up to my room, unlock it, and Lokitty pops his head out, trying to squeeze the rest of it through.

“Mrat!”

“It’s good to see you, too, Lokitty,” I coo, squeezing myself through the doorway and quickly locking the door before Lokitty can get out. “I’d better not find any Tide Balls or Elmer’s Glue lying around.”

“Mrat?”

I drop my stuff on the floor.

“What? You want dinner again?”

“Mrat! Mrat! Mrat? Mrat!”

Clearly he does. I turn on the news while preparing yet another fanciful feast for him.

“In other news: the Nano Wrimo Diamond was almost stolen tonight by Chicago’s own cat burglar, Disappearance, but was foiled in his attempts by the heroic actions of Light Devil’s own protégé, Blue Fox. Authorities say that Blue Fox was not able to catch this master thief, so residents are advised to please stay indoors for the rest of the night and do not open your doors or windows for the rest of the night.”

Good. The whole plan is coming together nicely. And now for part three of my devious plan: get a good night’s sleep! I’m going to need it.

It surprisingly doesn't end here! Tune in next time for the thrilling conclusion to Disappearance's story!
Copyright © 2019 Young Sage; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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