valentine

London 1856

Violetta Carter crept across the floor, putting her laced gloves on carefully and slowly. Her porcelain face glowed in the moonlight. She had been a thief for so long, first stealing food as a poor orphan, later because it made her money so she wouldn’t have to eat out of the trash.

The floorboards were old, so they creaked under her delicate feet. Her entire frame was tiny, and that made it perfectly easy to steal because she could fit into small places. Her long brown hair was tied up in a bun, neatly placed so that no hairs could get in her face and disrupt the intricate dance that was a theft.

The diamond was almost in her clutches. Someone had foolishly placed it right in the center of the jewelry store, a perfect place for a thief to grab it. She slowly took a hairpin and started to pick the lock on the glass surrounding the jewel.

The lock finally gave. The diamond was as good as hers. After she delivered this one to who wanted it, she would never have to steal again, as she would be living off of the money she made from it.

She lifted the glass case. She was reaching for the diamond when she heard the cocking of a gun.

“F-freeze, thief! I s-said, freeze!

“Oh, hello.” Violetta smiled a sinister smile at the source of the voice. “What exactly is it you want me to do?”

“I-I want you to put down the glass.” The voice was still shaky and hesitant. Violetta could almost hear the shaking of the pistol. Clearly, the holder had never used it before.

“Okay, I’ll drop it.” She threw the glass. It shattered on the ground with a loud whoosh. She grabbed the diamond, and ran outside, only to be surrounded by the police waiting there.

“Freeze! Put down the diamond and cooperate with us!” An office with a black uniform and a pistol in hand stood there. Ready to face defeat, Violetta surrendered the diamond. She was about to enter the carriage, but a voice stopped the officer.

“Pardon me,” a tall, young man was standing next to a shorter one, both with bowler hats and nice coats.

“Our client has not at all been informed of her rights yet,” he said, stepping forward.

“She’s a woman; she has none,” one of the officers stated, and the others laughed, being that, after all, it was 1856.

“Who the hell are you?” asked the officer holding Violetta.

“We’re your saviors, Ms. Carter,” he said, smile wide, glasses resting at his nose until he pushed them up.

“I’m Jesus, and he’s Christ.”

~TBC~