The Evergreen Thieves

Under the Protection of Midnight

The Amaryllis 

"It's midnight and I've been here for officially one bloody hour; Where are you?" A thickly accented young man stood, his hand clutching a dated cell phone. The smell of salty air coddled his lungs, grazing over his tanned skin and dampening his coal-black hair, making it illuminated in the moon's light. Along with a nightly fog that danced over the sea, swirling like fractals. No response.

"Well since they made a complete haymes of that job and I probably won't get paid, tell me. How long until the guard get here?" He questioned, gripping the edge of the fenced dock, his burly knuckles turning to an almost white pale. No response.

"You're not much of a talker mate." He muttered, releasing the cold metal of the fence, bringing a hand to pinch the bridge of his crooked nose, bent from being broken one too many times. The sea breeze was becoming sickening as well as the conversation. No response.

"Well, I'm going to assume the guard ought to be here sooner than later. Therefore I am going to leg it before getting caught by the manky coppers in this town."

The man waited for a moment, any reaction could tell him who he was dealing with, and yet no response.

He sighed. "Have a good day mate." He said, before dramatically spinning on his heel. "Hyacinth." Hyacinth meaning, your loveliness charms me, though he meant it as sarcastic wit instead of the true meaning.

Tossing the dated phone over his shoulder and into the bay, he let the tides drag it down, not bothering, nor caring to hang up.

"I give two minutes before everything is banjaxed." He muttered to himself, pulling out an engraved gold pocket watch from his dark trench coat. If he timed this correctly, he should be out of the docks and back at the Snapdragon in no time.

The red and blue flashing lights surrounded him, bringing eerie light to the dimly lit docks.

"They're definitely bang on time." He said, returning the watch to his pocket, pulling on a pair of brown leather gloves, and holding his hands up in surrender before the guard whipped out their pistols, standing from a distance.

"Keep your hands where we can see them." One of the policemen shouted, keeping his pistol up.

"Who woulda thought we could catch The Amaryllis just from a distress call." One of them barked a laugh, letting their hand slip ever so slightly on the grip of their gun.

"Ah, so you've heard of me!" The Amaryllis said, almost giddy, "It's nice to know my reputation isn't bagged just because of the things I do."

"It's the things you do that got you the reputation." One responded, letting his grip falter.

"And it's the reputation that keeps me going. Seems like a vicious cycle; innit mate?" He asked, but didn't wait for him to answer. "It's a vicious cycle and one I intend to continue until one day everyone knows The Amaryllis. A shadow where a man once stood. A legend where a hero stood." He spoke in twists, knotting the police's mind with poetic word choices.

They stood in silence as the police approached hesitantly.

The Amaryllis pinched the bridge of his nose, lowering his other gloved hand as well. "Why must they leave me as a chancer? But I suppose we must crack on without them." He said with a shrug.

Suddenly shots were fired, the ring of the bullets shot through the sea breeze, crushing the night's silence. They struck, but not the Amaryllis, the police. From the shadows, a young man with ebony skin and deep forest eyes emerged with a police pistol in hand, a crooked grin playing on his face as he blew off his pistol.