Narrative: 1st person Protagonist: Name yet to be revealed. It was foggy out. Perfect for an ill-planned robbery. I dug my hand into my bag and grabbed the crow’s head staff. The stone bird face glinted in the streetlight menacingly. It melted off the staff in a horrifying fashion and the goop formed a bird-like creature of stone. I stepped back and watched the enchanted object pry the door open with its claws. The door creaked open, slightly. Satisfied, the bird melted and seemingly jumped back on to the staff and formed the crow’s head. The staff, itself, looked about harmless. It looked like the average magic relic a collector like me would have, at least that is what this mission hinged on. I opened the door carefully and stepped inside the museum. My night-vision googles pierced through the black haziness and turned everything a tech-green shade. Not my favorite color, honestly but it would have to do. I tapped the staff three times against the ground and the crow’s head melted right off but split into three identical birds. I continued lurking through the museum until I reached the staff room. The last bird flew up and open the door, as the other two already used their turn on the other various troublesome doors. “Now, now, where did Net say it was?” I muttered to myself, searching my memories of our afternoon talk over hot cocoa. I clicked my tongue impatiently and righted my ears slightly. “Now, Net was talking about her favorite anime this morning. After that, though. She said something about how ironic I was asking that question, drinking hot cocoa.” I muttered, my mind slowly disconnecting to what I was doing. “Coffee!” I whispered excitedly. That’s where she said the relic was. I darted to the coffee table and my hand dashed around the counter. Until it hit the coffee maker. I took a sharp intake of oxygen and reached to stop the item of falling but the troublesome thing didn’t. Excited, thinking I had found what I was looking for, I reached over and tried to lift the coffee maker. It would not budge. I tried to tip it the other way. It still would not budge. Cursing it under my breath I fought the urge to slam my hands down on the counter. That’s when I saw a line around the coffee maker. Forming a square. Holding my breath, I pressed down on one side, hoping it would flip over. And it did. Now, if I wasn’t in the presence of a unwelcomed demon and at risk of getting caught or leaving without the thing I had sought to steal, I would have blasted some tunes and have a victory dance.
The cruddy drawing, writing, and characters belong to me. The drawing had so little effort put into it, and it shows. Feel free to critique the writing, in fact critiques are greatly appreciated and wanted.
