I'm also working on another story (that's actually plotted), and this is it. There's a prologue that introduces the whole Susie thing, his love of art, and the cat, Spruce. I haven't quite figure out how I want to do the prologue, so I'll introduce that later when it becomes important for you to understand the story. Here it is:
It was time.
I rolled past the guards, stealthy as a shadow. The smell of freshly mowed grass invaded my nostrils as I invaded the mansion’s premises. I crouched low, waiting for the last guard to disappear behind the hedges.
When he finally did disappear, I leapt up and ran towards the mansion. It was a tall building. From my angle, it blocked off the crescent moon. I hid behind a rose bush and pulled out a remote control.
“Okay, kitty,” I said, “your turn.”
I pressed the joystick on the remote forward. Spruce pushed through the gate, completely at my control. I moved him through all the difficult areas, places I couldn’t get through without setting off an alarm.
I set my teeth into a clench as the going got difficult. I knew that there were some motion sensors ahead. I wasn’t sure what would happen if Spruce set off one of the motion sensors, but I wasn’t keen on finding out.
A small screen lit my remote control, showing me everything that Spruce, my cat, could see. I turned his head to the right to look at the only motion sensor I could pick out from this distance. It was a black object sticking out of the ground. It looked almost like a sprinkler head, but it had a small, glass window on it that glowed. A light to pick out stealthy intruders.
“Careful now,” I said. I wasn’t sure if I was talking to Spruce or myself. I decreased the speed of Spruce, thinking through the obstacles ahead.
First there was getting Spruce into the castle-like mansion. That was the easiest part. Once he was in there, I could press the big, red button on the remote control. That would lead to the death of Spruce, and the death of all wireless connections. At a high tech place like the mansion, that knocked out most of the defenses. I would then sneak into the mansion, creep up some stairs, and steal a bunch of stuff.
Spruce barely made it past the motion sensor. I saw a red light go off on in it, but, other than that, nothing happened. I breathed an uneasy sigh of relief, and pressed the joystick forward, hard. Spruce lurched forward.
The guards came around the mansion again. I did my best to put Spruce into a hiding place, but it was no use. The guards were well-trained, and they saw the cat swaying on the lawn.
“Look at him,” a tall, burly guard said. “He looks drunk.”
“Yeah,” the other said wistfully. “My daughter has been wanting a cat for some time.” He stooped down to look for a tag while the other guard searched the lawn suspiciously. I crouched lower and covered the screen on my remote control with my right hand.
“No tag,” announced the smaller guard. “I’m going to take him in. When my shift is over, he’s my daughter’s.”
I caught the other guard saying something about a ‘pansy,’ but I didn’t focus on him for long. The pansy guard was taking Spruce inside! That made my plan so much more simple--except for the fact that the other guard hadn’t been fooled so easily. He stepped towards me, and for a brief moment, I thought he was coming for me. He stopped after walking only a few yards, shrugged, put something in the grass, and continued patrolling the area.
I pressed the big, red button on the remote. The screen on my remote control died, but the audio system was still functioning. I heard the guard give a muffled cry when Spruce went limp in his arms. I felt a very, very brief pang of remorse. When it was over a nano-second later, I crept forward, still using rose bushes for cover.
The burly guard doubled back suddenly. I ducked to hide behind some bushes, but the one I had been running to was still a few yards away. I fell to the ground instead, panting in the smell of warm grass.
The guard turned his head in my direction. From his expression, I could tell he had heard something. That something was me.
He pulled a taser from his belt and walked towards me. His eyes were not focused directly on me, so I knew he didn’t know my exact location. Flashing a light in my direction, he began to run.
He spotted my exact location when I stood.
I leapt toward him, flinging the remote control ahead of me. The remote smashed into his wrist. He didn’t even cry out, and he gripped the taser firmly in his right hand, aiming it at my neck. The taser dart is effective pretty much no matter where it hits, but the neck is particularly painful.
I stopped mid-lunge.
“Hello, Adam,” he said. “I thought it might be you.”
Crap. He recognized me.
“I just came to catch my cat,” I lied. “He got away, you see.”
I took a small step forward with my left foot, getting into ready position. I hoped he didn’t notice--his eyes were focused on my face.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “I’ve seen you pass this place more frequently than usual for the past week. Your father is a rascal, and I figured he would send you to do his dirty work soon enough.”
“I’m not doing anyone’s dirty work,” I said coolly. “I’m getting my cat.”
“Right, and that’s why you threw the remote at my face. Why do you have a remote, anyway?”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten. “I threw the remote because you scared me. I thought you were going to taze me before I had explained. And I have a remote because--oh, there’s Spruce.”
The guard turned slightly to look. I lashed out at his face, full force. My foot impacted with his nose, and he he fell back. I leapt up and used the side of my fist to smack him in the temple. His eyes rolled back. A neat, easy job, but it didn’t leave me much time.
I dragged him behind a bush, ripped off part of my shirt, and used that strip of cloth to tie his arms behind his back. I also stuffed one of my socks into his mouth. It would have to do. I put my shoe back on and walked up to the mansion. The only person I had left to worry about was the second, ‘pansy’ guard. I wasn’t too worried about him.
I opened the front door (conveniently unlocked by Mr. Pansy) and strolled in confidently. I was high on success.
Looking around briefly, I didn’t see much to worry about. The kitchen light was on, but, other than that, the house was dark and apparently empty. I began to fell uneasy again. Where was Mr. Pansy?
I snuck up the stairs, careful not to make a sound. Now that I was uneasy, my bloated ego was beginning to shrink into a corner. A stair creaked.
I stopped.
The stair was below me. I slowly turned around to face--nobody. Nobody was there. Maybe I had squeaked the stair after all.
I continued up the flight of stairs--very nice stairs, too. They were red mahogany, although they looked almost black in the night time.
The hallway upstairs was even more fancy than the stairway. Although I couldn’t see much, a window let some moonlight through. The moonlight illuminated rows of beautiful paintings. I would have stolen one, but I was here for something completely different.
I opened a door to the right. It matched the description my father had given me. The room was sparsely decorated, but what decorations it had must have cost a lot. There was a pure gold hippo statue on an oak desk. There was an ivory chess set. There was even a sleek laptop on the desk; that’s what I had come for.
I took my backpack off and threw the laptop in. On a whim, I also threw in the hippo and the chess set. When I tried to stand, the hippo weighed too much, and I had to take it back out. Pity.
Just before I left the room, I caught sight of a small necklace. It was silver and had a blue gem in the center, and I wasn’t sure if it was worth anything, but I shrugged and took it anyway.
I closed the door softly behind me and walked down the stairs. When I reached the bottom, something seemed wrong. I cast my eyes around, looking for the source of the problem, but I couldn’t see a thing in the blackness.
In the blackness. I shuddered and whipped around just in time to see someone leap out at me. I cried out, but could do nothing in my surprise. A felt a sudden pain in my neck. In a millisecond, the fight was over.
Totally not fair.
I woke up in a small, brightly lit space. I leapt up, fell down, and clutched my head. My brain throbbed, and my vision was blurry.
“Awake, huh?” someone outside my cell said.
“Awake, huh?” someone outside my cell said.
“Awake?” I said. “When did I fall asleep?”
I heard a jangling of keys. There was a loud click, and the door to my cell swung open, revealing a portly policeman.
“You’re awfully young for such a difficult job,” he said, grabbing me by the arms. He handcuffed me. “How old are you?”
“Sixteen,” I said.
He whistled. “You’re a pretty good thief for one so young. Your father put you up to it?”
I was dragged into a cramped office. The smell of stale coffee and a half-eaten tomato sandwhich wafted into my nostrils. It was a shock after the clean, crisp smells of Mr. Gregorson’s property.
“Well?” the policeman said again.
“No,” I said.
“You wouldn’t do something stupid like that by yourself, would you?” the policeman asked. He hung up a jacket and yawned. “After all, Mr. Gregorson is the richest man in the United States.”
“I thought of it myself,” I said. “And I would have succeeded, too, if the guards hadn’t butted in.”
The policeman laughed. “Well,” he said, “let’s have a talk. Sit down, Adam.”
I sat across from him, looking around cautiously.
“Tell me from the beginning,” he said. “Tell me how you got so skilled, and why your father sent you in.”
“My--father--did--not--send--me. It was my idea.”
The policeman looked suddenly weary. He took a bite of tomato sandwich. “Alright, Adam,” he said. “Have it your way. But until you speak up, we’ll keep you locked in that cell.”
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