Little Thief

Chapter 1

This couldn't be happening. There was no way this was happening, no possible way. A plain clock hung up on the ugly grey wall ticked slowly, the only noise in the otherwise deadly silent holding room.

I wrapped my arms around myself. It offered little comfort, but I didn't let go all the same. The tick-tick-tick drilled into my head, growing more and more unbearable by the second. Occasionally I would see a figure dart by the door, which held the only window, and my heart would skip a beat. How long had it been? Twenty minutes? Forty? An hour?

At least the ride had been fun. Sort of. Well, fun in the way I could always tell my grandkids one day that I had ridden in a police car. They didn't use the sirens, disappointedly, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

It was just that the whole situation didn't make any sense. When I had left the shop, I hadn't put anything in my bag to set off the alarms. I mean, I had stolen pieces on my person, but when my bag got searched, it was stuffed impossibly full of precious merchandise. Stuff I had not even touched, proudly showing off their security tags to the security guard. That had pretty much sealed my fate.
After a lifetime of sticky fingers, I had finally come to face the consequences. And I wasn't particularly liking it.

The door opened, jotting me out of my thoughts. Two ashy haired and equally ashy faced police officers entered, and sat opposite me.
No one made any effort to move.

"Look, there's been a mistake," I tried, morphing my face to look as sympathetic as possible. It didn't take much. "I swear, if you check the security footage, there is nothing showing me stuffing any of that stuff into my bag."

They kept staring forward, not even blinking.
"Please," I said, leaning across the table. "Check the footage, it should prove what I'm telling you."

"They can't hear you, Miss Atropos."

Someone else was in the room.

I spun around in my chair, and there, skulking in the corner of the room under the harsh, white light, a third police officer stood.

"How did you get in here?" I asked, leaning back to see if there was any fake wall or trapdoor or anything. There wasn't.
The third man snorted and took a long drag of a glowing cigar despite being stood under a 'no smoking' sign.

"That is what irks you? My existence, and not my words?"

Fair point, actually. But no need to go all Shakespeare on me.

"I was getting to that," I lied. "But I find your sudden appearance to be a tad more threatening than anything you might be telling me. At this current moment, in the very least. Is there a spring door behind you by any chance?"

"You're still not listening," he said.

Using his foul-smelling cigar, he pointed to where the two police officers sat in front of me. I followed his movement. Both of them were burning holes through me with their intense stare, but oddly enough, neither of them were reacting to anything. I didn't even see a hint of them blinking. It was as if they were completely frozen. My mouth started to run dry.

"You're not with them, are you?"

I could hear him blowing out a stream of smoke. "Finally, I thought you'd never get it, Miss Atropos."
That made me falter as well.

"How do you know my name?" I asked, a gradual build up of nerves starting to churn in my stomach. "No-one ever calls me that."

"Aye, but it is your name," he continued, paying not attention to my growing discomfort. "And to allow one's name to become unused, it becomes forgotten, that's as good as letting your very soul rot away into nothing."