The Rat.

The black hooded thief slipped past the night guard's back.

Dressed completely in black, the Rat was a master crook.

She slunk in, took, and left, without a finger print. That was mostly because she wore gloves.

The Rat's shoes were tread-less and left no telltale prints.

She floated into the jewel department, carefully checked the position of the security cameras, and took any gems out of its sight. Swiftly stashing them in a zipper pocket hidden under her hood,the Rat slipped out of the room. Behind a large potted plant, she waited patiently for the night guard to complete his rounds on the lower floor. As he started to climb the stars , the thief dashed out the front door, closing it silently behind her. The Rat ran across the road and plunged into the brush, grabbing her trusty partner, Flashin.

The javelin was a light, but powerful weapon. It could “flash in” and out in a heartbeat, which for some was their last. Flashin's sharp tip was stained red, whether from blood or paint it didn't matter.

The Rat packed the jewels in a water resistant box and buried it deep in woods of Trainforge, carefully replacing every grain of dirt.

She would wait until the heist blew over before digging up it up and selling the gems in another town.

She was no novice.

Glancing around just once, the Rat bounded further into the woods until she came to a huge hollowed horse chestnut tree. Climbing it with the swiftness of a cat, she eased herself onto a wide branch and slithered out of her black garments. Underneath were shorts, a tee-shirt, and sneakers.

She packed the robes into a metal box and slid the box into a large hole in the tree.

That task completed, she heaved back and thrust Flashin's tip into the bark, sliding a hollowed-out branch over the weapon to hide it.

The now normal looking crook climbed down and ran off, with the excuse of searching for a pet dog if anybody asked why she was out so late.

It took a whole day for the mall manager to discover the missing gems.

He was livid, it would cost him almost five thousand dollars to replace what wasn't covered by the little insurance he had. Of course he telephoned the cops, but no clues could be found.

“State your position last night,” an officer ordered the night watchman.

“First floor-ten o'clock PM,” the man began. “Second floor-ten thirty PM, first floor-eleven o'clock PM, second floor-eleven thirty PM and so on.”

“Okay....uh...That's your rounds, right?” the policeman asked lamely.

“Yes, sir.”

“So you go up and down every half-hour?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you notice any sounds?” the officer asked, trying to grasp for some bit of useful information.

“No, sir.”

“Anything out of place?”

“No......Well actually,” the guard scratched his chin thoughtfully. “At about twelve thirty PM, I thought I hear the main door open as I headed upstairs, but when I hurried back to check it was closed.”

“I'll look into it,” the policeman said gruffly, as though he thought this not worthy of his time. He scribbled some notes, thanked the watchman for his cooperation, and left.

Hours later the cops left without finding any relevant clues.

Meanwhile the Rat, now her normal attire, was coolly strolling the streets of Hanhover village, unnoticed by the nearby townspeople.

Everyone who new her thought her name was Allie Katt-almost the opposite of her crook name-but nobody could prove this assumption.

She was apparently an orphan, but this didn't worry her. She lived in a shack at the edge of town.

Teenagers broke in frequently so she had a homemade spear to scare them off.

She had dark hair of an indescribable color and the darkest black eyes.

Her eye were sly, but innocent and clever. She could send messages just by looking at someone, and they would understand perfectly. In fact, she was so good at this that she rarely spoke.

To earn a little money, she delivered milk and eggs, and stole as the Rat.

She stepped into the town's Snack Shack and glanced at the cashier.

He immediately handed her a ham sandwich, no pickles but extra cheese, and she handed him exact change.

Allie the Rat was gone as quick as she had come.

She ran home to her shack to find, as usual, two boys had broken in, but one sweep of her spear sent them on their way.

Allie tidied up the mess and finished her sandwich.

 



The boys, however, had never been so freaked out in their lives.As they sprinted through the alleyways to their building, the taller one with red hair gasped,
“What was with that crazy hermit kid? Swinging knives at us? We don't even have a gun between us!”
“Dunno, Josh,” the short tow-headed one panted.
“Well she won't get away with it,” snorted Josh.
“Right!”
“C'mon, Kenny. First we'll get ourselves some lunch.”


Allie the Rat was ready for another scheme. She had carefully planned it out, in her head of course.
She never wrote down her plots on paper because that, of found, would be dead evidence.
She hid her spear in the stovepipe and left for the woods.
When she reached the hollow tree, Allie checked for spies and climbed.
A moment later she slid down as the Rat. The young crook sped through the twilight, head for the next town.  To make to going faster, she strapped Flashin to her back.

By the light of a lone street lamp, she pause to read the sign.
                                                 Welcome to the humble
                                                Town of Sardinian.
The Rat tightened her belt and tied her hood so it wouldn't flap off. She ran through the dark alleys, weaving her way toward her target, a ten-hour grocery store.
She swiftly picked the lock and peered inside. No guards, but plenty of cameras.
The Rat lowered her head and dashed inside, picking the cash registers' lock and filling a small bag.
She left the building with the cash in under five minutes.

By dawn, the money was buried and the Rat was headed to the horse chestnut tree to hide her cloths.
She was crossing a large clearing on her way home, when a shout pierced the silent woods.
Five officers burst from the woods, surrounding the Rat before she could gather her wits.
She whipped out her javelin, knocked an officer flat with the blunt end, then spun it around so that the point faced the other four.
“Show us where you put the money, or we'll shoot,” they growled, pointing their guns at the Rat.
“If you shot me,” she said calmly. “I'd never be able to show you.







The story ended there and here I am, years later, and it still isn't finished!
For more info on the story's history and how it came around, leave a comment with the word 'Fishy' at the end. 
I will tell you all about it.