The Midnight Crime

Never in a thousand years had Falcon thought he would break into this house. It was horrifying and thrilling at the same time. Horrifying because if someone caught him, he would be thrown in jail for the rest of his life, and thrilling because it was a feat he had managed to carry out within a few hours.

Well, I am not an expert at breaking in for nothing, he thought smugly, casting his eyes upon the fascinating sight below him.

He was hanging from the climbing ropes attached to the top of the building, harnessed around his waist as he clung to the window sill on the first floor of the mansion. The window was much higher than an ordinary first floor, but this didn't surprise him, this house was not ordinary by any means. The design was unique, and the entire floor plan was imprinted in his mind from all the hours he had spent poring over the building's structure. His feet clung easily to the frame, years of practice kicking in as he balanced on top of the delicate frame of the window.

Multitudes of guards surrounded the vast perimeter, stationed five meters away from each other. Their formation had created a human wall, closing off any exits or entrances, in his case, from the ground. The shiny buttons on their crisp uniforms gleamed under the brightness cast upon the grounds from the lights mounted on tall poles all over the expanse.

Look up. He wanted to scream at them. Look up and watch me do the impossible.

He pressed himself flat against the window to avoid the camera as it swiveled around, ensuring no trespassers were attempting to break in. The building's tall frame cast a shadow upon the window ledge, helping him blend into the darkness, and concealing the fact that a burglar was about to go in. It was funny how the people who had planned every tiny bit of security with such detail had managed to miss a simple precaution, such as an alarm on the window, relying on the height of it to prevent any robbers to break in.

The window was a typical sash window, unlocked, with the smooth panes of glass reflecting his dark silhouette back at him. He saw the distorted image of his covered face, the black face mask and the cap pulled low over his eyes, which stared back at him with the same determination he was feeling. He was hunched over the sill like a cat, his lithe body hugging the wall, while the ropes which were dangling him over the edge pulled taut at the harness.

Falcon placed his fingers along the split in the window, pulling the lower sash up with a whisper of a sound. The window complied, submitting under his strong grip and he latched the lock, the lower part gracefully clinging to the upper window, creating a neat hole to jump in.

He glanced down once at the barking bull hounds on the grass, the chains around their necks clasped in the hands of the guards prowling the gardens. They were too far below to catch his scent, the canines their hideous lips barely concealed able to tear any intruders to ribbons, and hopped inside, all of his weight balanced on his toes.

He found himself in a dimly lit bathroom. Even in the dark, Falcon could tell it was luxurious. The glass walls of the shower and gleaming tiles reflected the soft golden light which seemed to fill the whole area. He looked around for the source of the glow, and located the sophisticated tubes fixed in the ceiling lines, the soft light looking both ominous and magical. It was so silent inside the house in stark contrast to the commotion outside. The soundproof windows blocked any noise that might threaten to wake up the people inside. The silence was so divine he felt he would disturb the descended hush if he so much as breathed.

Don't be stupid, Falcon. Just find the package and get out of here. He gave himself a silent scolding to urge himself to move before being discovered.

He slowly stepped towards the bathroom door far away from the window. He carefully measured each of his footstep before setting it down, in case he was too loud to wake up the people in the house. When he was close enough, he drew out a trembling hand and clasped the doorknob, hoping that it would open smoothly without creaking. Turning the doorknob was a test he hadn't prepared for, and he almost jumped up with joy when the door slid open without a sound. He left it ajar. It was too noisy to try and close it and turned towards the room he had stepped into.

The room was vast. There was no other way to put it. It stretched on for what Falcon knew were 500 sq. feet, the open plan area consisting of everything a person would need to survive an apocalypse without having to get out. The wall directly opposite him was made entirely of glass, soft moonlight scattered across the floor, kissing the shadows which reached out around the room to greet it.

A high podium was to his left, a gigantic platform bed set upon it, in which a figure was currently resting, covers drawn over the entire body. The bed crown loomed over them like a guardian angel as they slept, body unmoving and mind blissfully unaware of the danger inside the room. The furniture was a gorgeous shade of grey. It gleamed so brightly in contrast to the white and dark surroundings, that even in his present state of nervousness, Falcon admired the person's taste, decency with delicacy forming a combination so satisfying for the eyes. There was even a minibar-cum-kitchen, the aesthetically pleasing design had carried perfectly, not even the mini-fridge behind the counter marring its appearance. The set up was against the far wall of the room on his right, a sofa set placed in a circle in front of it.

The wall besides him was completely taken up by a door he knew went into the dressing room and closet. He was mildly tempted to check it out and ignore the lingering danger while doing so. For a moment, Falcon had a sudden urge to meet the designer to tell them how great of a job they had done.

Strange, he thought to himself. What is happening to you, Falcon? Focus!

Falcon didn't need to find the safe. He already knew it was behind the picture frame on the wall to his right, facing the sofa set. Not only was the hiding place flimsy, it was almost obnoxious how the person had made no attempt to lock the window leading in. Either they were extremely careless or just plain stupid. It was like they were almost sure nobody could steal the package. Falcon tap danced his way over to the bed, as if he was walking on thin ice and climbed the steps to the podium. There was one thing that had yet to be done before he could retrieve the precious package. Nothing could mess up tonight. He approached the bed cautiously, even stopping to breathe for a moment before hearing the sleeper's soft snores and relaxing down to his very core.

Falcon put his hands in his pocket, feeling the glass bottle of chloroform, so cold in his sweaty hands that it was almost comforting to touch. Shaking the bottle a bit and hearing the satisfying sloshing of the liquid inside, Falcon felt the rush of power he relished. Basking in the feeling, he hovered his hand over the sleeping figure's body.

He grabbed the corners of the covers between his index and middle fingers, and with a smooth jerk of his hand, flipped them over, revealing the person underneath them up to their chin. The few sneaky rays of moonlight permeating the room fell upon the stranger's face, lighting it up, which suddenly glowed silver under their midnight embrace.