invasato [h.s]

prologue

Invasato; possessed or dominated by a strong passion.

Paris, France: 2017

It began with red strobing lights.

And then came the alarm. The blaring noise that caused every pair of ears to be covered by hands. It was unbearably loud, but everyone knew what it meant.

Infiltration.

People were screaming, scared and scattered in all directions with the soul purpose of escaping.

Guards ran through the marble halls of the building, knowing what was going to be taken if they didn't get there soon enough.

Mothers ran with their children. Couples sprinted to the exit. But no one was here to harm the people. They were safe so long as they stayed out of the way.

The sounds of fear were beneficial, really. They'd hopefully be a distraction.

But, just in case that didn't work, there was a man with a gun that should do the job. His face was covered with a white ski mask that has red demonic smiles badly painted onto them. The bullets in the gun weren't deadly, just rubber.

But they made a loud enough sound.

"Fire. We're losing time." the man with the gun heard the voices through his ear piece. He stood at the top of the stair case, looking down at the chaos below. He grips the gun, aiming it up in the air and pulling the trigger.

The loud sound carried down to the lobby. The screaming people screamed louder, trampling over each other in order to escape.

It was amusing to these infiltrators.

The criminals had one target. They weren't there to kill or harm anyone unless they had to. It was deep in the marble covered museum for a reason.

A prized possession that was kept there for safe keeping. It didn't belong to them but that wasn't stopping anything.

A guard made the fatal mistake of turning down the wrong hall, where he came face to face with the masked gunman.

Grabbed from behind by two other masked infiltrators, this guard became their ticket. The gun with the false bullets was pressed to the guards head.

"You know what we're looking for. Bring us there or you fucking die." the dark words were muttered in his ear.

Held at gunpoint, what other choice did the guard have? He lead the group of criminals down the halls of the museum, back to the part that was hidden to the public.

The criminals were aware of the anger that would be sparked within certain people but again, they didn't care.

Richness is such a driving force.

With their hostage, they were taken into the back, where there was a display that didn't have public access.

There it was, the item they were there for. It was in the center of the display.

The diamond necklace.

It wasn't rightfully theirs but maybe he should have thought twice before putting his precious necklace in a museum to keep it safe.

Now his prized possession is stolen.

One of the masked men walked up to the podium, grabbing the expensive jewel from the display. Their mission succeeded.

He turns to his fellow criminals, raising the necklace in victory.

"What now?" one of them speaks.

The man holds the necklace firmly, looking at it in all its glory. He was unable to comprehend the fact that they had it now.

"Now we let him know that he's lost. And he'll never win as long as he's against us."

//