The Thief (VII)

What the hells going on, thought the thief. It was supposed to be an easy routine job. Get in, grab the gem, get out. Yet here he was facing some kind man who is obviously deranged. The thief had weapons, while this “nightmare” didn’t. Yet the thief felt he could fight it. The thief shuddered and walked further into the vault until he found the gem. He picked it up and cradled it like a baby. He turned and saw the strange entity standing at the doorway. The thief raised one of his knifes in a futile gesture of defiance.

“Do not run thief,” It said, “For I shall find you. Let it end now.”

But the thief wasn’t ready to die yet. He backed against the wall as the “nightmare” approached. A cult, its part of some kind of cult, thought the thief. “What do you want from me?” asked the thief, fear enveloping his voice.

The “nightmare” smiled and replied, “I don’t wish to take your life thief, though I wouldn’t mind if I had too. I only want to talk somewhere… discrete.

The thief didn’t like the idea.

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