Good job, Reianne. Good job.

Muttering a string of curses that would make even a notorious pirate lord raise a brow, I gripped the tree branch harder. Sweat broke on my body in nervous concentration as I raised my knees as much as I could, and very, very carefully, hauled my feet over the electrified barb wires on top of the perimeter wall. A gust of chilly wind had me shivering and goosebumps formed on my sweat-drenched arms.

Not my idea of a Friday night, but Michael begged for me to take this assignment on his behalf because he got a date this evening, and Inspector Eugene Hugh refused to reschedule the job. He made it abundantly clear that Hugo's Mansion had to be searched tonight--not tomorrow or the day after that--for armaments of possible mass destruction. Or just smuggled high-caliber guns. One can never tell with these mob bosses.

I, however, dangling on this tree branch several meters off the ground, was a massive distraction to anyone passing by Hugo's walled estate. Mr. Yang, my voice of reason, snickered at the pun I just made while Ms. Yin, my inner voice that got me into more trouble than what she was worth, rolled her metaphorical eyes.

Another set of curses left my lips like enchantment as the branch creaked, and my feet dangled dangerously close to the electrified barb wires overhanging the side of the wall. Despite my aching arms, I reached for the sturdier part of the branch, putting as much distance between my precious self and the wall of death.

I had taken precautions, of course, despite the short notice for this particular break-in, studied the blueprint of the estate, and mapped the possible entrance and exit points. I knew that the fence was electrified. That was why I spent a good thirty minutes of the night disabling the power on the damned thing. What I wasn't aware of was the back-up power installed. Of course, the spike in thieving activities in the area conducted by yours truly in the past years undoubtedly contributed to the upgraded security. I grumbled under my breath.

Bark rough against my palms, I shimmied some more towards the tree trunk. Good branch, good, strong branch, please don't break. Please, don't break. Please, don't break.

The branch did not reply. It must be the silent type. But the leaves rustled overhead, and I swear it sounded like mocking laughter.

Suspenseful moments later, I got close enough to the trunk and away from the electrified barb wires, a sigh of relief on my lips. I let the branch go and landed on my feet with a soft thud against the grass-covered earth, and saluted the branch for its hard work.

Eyes straining against the darkness, I mapped out my location vis-a-vis the blueprint burned in my head, held in place by my photographic memory. I had entered through the west wall, and the Mansion was on the eastern portion of this one thousand square meter property, the largest lot in this upscale neighborhood.

I kept myself in the shadows, moving with stealth honed through years of burglary, eyes watchful of the red dots of CCTV cameras hidden beneath the leaves. This part of the estate was not very well maintained, if those overgrown shrubs were any indication. It was also haphazardly lined with trees of varying sizes.

A whirr of movement had me dodging under the cover of darkness. A figure was leaning on one of the trees. He was fiddling his crotch. Moments later, he shuddered and pulled his zipper up.

The motherfucker pissed on the tree trunk.

Ugh.

He was obviously inebriated, head leaning on the trunk of the desecrated tree, form heavy with sleep.

I summoned Batman's spirit and hid in the shadows as much as possible to avoid Mr. Pisser. I had no intention of engaging him in hand-to-hand combat. I just saw where his hands had been. I cringed.

Unfortunately, Batman's spirit was unavailable at the moment, and Mr. Pisser's eyes locked with mine. Acting quickly, I was in front of him in two strides, slammed his head on the trunk he just pissed on, disinfected my hands with my handy-dandy alcogel, and moved on with my life. Particularly, towards the Mansion.

When booming party music reached my ears, I knew the Mansion was close. It wasn't long before I stepped out of the shrubs and into a paved driveway leading up to a five-story structure that was the Mansion, alight and alive with sounds of revelry.

The Mansion was imposing like a regal fort, mostly rectangular with balconies jutting out from the well-lit windows, and with gildings that reflected the lights, giving it a sheer glow amidst the darkness of the rest of the estate.

With the proceeds of crime in front of me in the form of this Mansion, Ms. Yin not so subtly regretted retiring as a thief a year ago. I mean, the price of one of those doorknobs could have covered my monthly rent.

Inspector Eugene wanted the Mansion searched tonight because Hugo was out-of-town, hoping that the security inside the Mansion would be laxer, making it an ideal time for some technically-illegal-but-somewhat-authorized sneaking. He was right. Apparently, the absence of the big boss meant that a party was in order. There were around fifty men inside the ground floor drinking, dancing, and messing around with their lady friends, drunk with booze and high with party drugs.

My hands reached into my pocket where my throwing needles were, my weapon of choice. It wouldn't be enough for all these men, wasted or not. I gritted my teeth and made a mental note to strangle Michael the next time we meet, and to be slightly disrespectful of Inspector Eugene in the next month or so.

Obviously, there was no way I could enter the Mansion through the ground floor undetected. I doubt that even the alcohol and drug-induced haze would shield their eyes from my intruding figure in a baggy and totally unsexy all-black attire.

The gun on each man's waistband also factored heavily in my assessment, of course.

I self-consciously reached for the baseball cap that hid my long hair--a must for my male disguise--and fixed the neckline of my blacktop to reveal the scythe-like mark there. If my night went bust, maybe I could use my infamy as leverage.

Noiselessly, I moved towards the back of the Mansion to try my luck there, since the front and sides of the Mansion were well-lit. In the blueprint, there should be balconies at the back of the Mansion too, low enough to pull myself up.

The boom of the party music dimmed as I went farther from the main doors. I snickered and welcomed the darkness as I rounded up the corner of the Mansion. One of the balconies had pallets underneath that I could use as a stepping stool. I restrained myself from doing a totally premature victory dance and went up the balcony with relative ease.

Being a former thief, jimmying the locked balcony was a piece of cake. I pushed the door open and was shocked by the lone figure staring back at me behind the door.

"Hello, there. We've been expecting you, Reaper," he said.

Busted.  

What do you think?

When I first wrote this one, the tone is much more serious than this, but then I realize, life is serious enough. So I rewrote it and made it a lot funnier. Do you think the chapter is too short? Where do you think Batman's spirit is, and why is it not available when Reianne needed it?=)

EDIT:

I will slowly rewrite the chapters. If there is a massive drop in the quality in the succeeding chapters, it's because of that. 

Yours always,

RF

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