Thieves Come In Fives
rating: +17+x

Penny Price waltzed into her abode, exasperated. The bags under her eyes were like sacks of sand, ready to drag her head to the ground floor with force.

That was the last time she would willingly work with Sarkics ever again.

She wrapped her hot-pink scarf around the coat hanger and hung her thick jacket under it. The light gently smoothed out the interior with ashen tones. The soft flutter of typing climbed its way downstairs and into her ears. It was her husband, Timothy Price. And as usual, he was doing business with MC&D operatives. Most likely stocking items or writing up reports.

"Tim," Penny moaned. The whispering pounding stopped and Timothy descended the stairs.

"Welcome back," he yawned. He was just as tired as her, if not more. "How was work?"

"The actual work was great. Business as usual, but…"

"What? Is everything OK, honey?" To that, she replied by stumbling towards the man and planting herself against his chest.

"Ugh, it was a train wreck. Remember that Sarkic couple I told you about?"

"Uh… the Hathscorns?"

"Yes, them. I had to leave the resturaunt at eight thirty and go to their mansion. I was with Carter, too. They performed their little ritual and… fucking, shit happened." Penny couldn't tell him about the hatchlings. She would do that tomorrow, but not now. If she did tell him he would teem with involvement, bothering her with questions of care and concern. She appreciated it, but she couldn't stand any more commotion.

"What happened?" Timothy hummed carefully. He held her chin and gracefully tilted her head up until her eyes met his. She couldn't help but smile.

"Nothing, the eggs just… exploded, and the juice got everywhere. The police showed up and I had to go through questioning. It was intense, considering who I am and who I was with."

"Rough night, eh?"

"Yeah."

"So that's why you're so grumpy." Tim said, Penny punching him on the side lightly. He laughed, "Want me to make dinner?"

"Normally, yeah. But after that ritual I don't think I'm hungry," she chuckled tiredly. "I'm heading up to bed. Good night, Tim." She kissed him on the cheek and made her way upstairs.

"Night," he replied. He followed her up, eventually seating himself back at this computer and resuming his routine.


Timothy sat, being painted white by the light of the monitor. His body bobbed in the air, half-asleep. He looked like a ghost. Penny lay dormant in her room. She was eaten by its scarlet blankets, barely visible from the surface.

Outside, a thick mist surrounded the manor. The fog mixed with the darkness, forming a heavy fabric of pure night, engulfing the area. The wind was calm, almost moribund in its gradually declining movement. That was until something began stalking the roads below. Like a shadow it moved, its glowing eyes granting vision amidst the murky London air. The wind followed behind its trail, almost pulled forward by the object's motion.

Creeping up the hill the house rested upon, a pair of ghastly headlights penetrated the darkness. A deteriorating, rusty car pulled up next to the house, pressing against the manor's leftmost side. After the vehicle shut off, five men clad in azure coats flooded from its doors. Each one held an assault rifle. They smelled of salt and mucus.

The terrorists made their way to the front door, where one of the invaders pushed his way to the front of the clique. He held both hands on the doorknob, grasping it firmly. He chanted several eldritch phrases, subtly trembling. After several minutes, the handle ignited with blue, thaumaturgic fire. There was a whoosh, and then a click, but the door wouldn't budge. The thaumaturge wriggled the doorknob, but sure enough, it was still locked. They looked at each other in confusion.

"Must be some kind of fancy security system," one of them said.

"They're MC n' D, what did you expect?"

"Such is true. Lanso," the shortest of them all whispered to the magician at the door, "we won't be coming back, and I doubt they'll be able to find us. We've no need for stealth. Break it down."

With that, Lanso pushed both hands forward, spraying thaumaturgic flames about. The door flew backwards and landed with an echoing thud.

The men cocked their guns and charged in.

Timothy jumped up from his seat upon hearing the crash. Footsteps emerged from the bottom floor following the wretched noise. They jumped into his ears like grasshoppers. It took him a few seconds to fully wake up, but upon realizing what he was hearing, he bolted into the room.

"Penny!" he shouted, nearly kicking down the door and shaking the woman awake.

"Gah— fuck! Tim, what is it?!"

"We have to go, Penny! T-there's—" Before Timothy could muster the correct words to explain the situation, a hand reached around his head from behind and covered his mouth, muffling his speech. Penny's eyes sunk into fear as five guns emerged from the darkness behind him like snakes.

"Listen here, Penny," the frontmost thug bellowed, his voice like rolling thunder. "If you want to remain unharmed, then your best option is cooperation," The gun pressed against her nose. "Where are the seeds?"

"I-I-I don't k-know—"

"Don't play dumb! We know you've got them! We saw you serving the Angel's spawn at your diner!"

"Who are you?!" her voice screeched like cracking glass. The cultist, filled with rage, raised the butt of his rifle and struck her across the face. Fingers of blood emerged from the side of her mouth, swelling her cheek. That was when she finally began to cry.

Suddenly, Timothy broke free from the cultist's grasp and punched him in the chest. He merely stumbled backwards, but that was enough time for Tim to engage the invader to his right. He tried to trip him, but the man was able to nimbly apprehend him; twisting his arm behind his back painfully. Without thought one of the men shot Timothy's calf, and a blurred shriek of pain reverberated from him.

Penny screamed obscenities as she viewed her husband's limp body fall to the floor in excruciating pain. He curled up fetal position, and she bound from the bed and kneeled down by his side.

"Tim? Tim no… no, no, no, no— Tim! Wake up, God, Tim!"

Tim coughed, "I-I'm alright, babe, I'm fine. I just— ah!" He tried to sit up, but the hole in his leg prevented him from doing so. Penny's head immediately panned up at the gathering crowd around her. She was dripping in sweat and clenched her teeth in anger.

"What… What do you people want from us?" she sobbed.

"Your people have the eggs! You dare lie to the Fifth's Reach?!" one of the intruders barked.

Another one hissed; "You consume them like sweet pudding, you do! They are the seed of the Angels. The Fifth demands their return!"

"I don't—"

"A new dawn is upon us. And we must make way for the flood." The cultist pointed down at the pair. "You have spat in the face of—"

"Enough! Take them with us! We shall hold them at the church until further notice."

Two of the men produced sacks and grabbed both subjects. Penny pleaded in terror and Timothy was nearly unconcious. They shoved their heads in the bags and carried them into the night.


"Hello?"

"Yes, hello. Who am I speaking to?"

"Harry. I've got the distributors."

"And the eggs?"

"Said nothin'. We'll crack 'em when we get to the church."

"That is unfortunate. However, I am proud of you, Harrison. You have served the Fifth's Reach well."

"Yeah, thanks. What about you?"

"Oh, we're fine. We just made it back."

"Alright, good. So… I'll just see you back at the church?"

"In due time, Harrison. Me and dear Penny have much to discuss."

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