\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1068394-Felicity-Black-chapter-2
Item Icon
Rated: E · Other · Detective · #1068394
I continue with my story of a private eye/shapeshifter with a rotten atitude
Felicity Black
“This vamp must be drinking crack-laced blood or is utterly insane. I’m
defiantly
out of my league,” I mumbled to myself as I stared at the computer screen to
read.
‘Guarded with the most advanced equipment (for the item is priceless) and
by at least several guards at all times are only a few of the thing that make
the Goblet of Shanka the most dangerous heist known to man. Only four people
have tried to retrieve the goblet. Unfortunately all of them mysteriously
disappeared while holding it. Suspicion of foul play is very high, though
there has never been an investigation.
The Goblet of Shanka is an incredibly mysterious find. No one is exactly
sure of its powers. A voodoo high priestess named Shanka supposedly forged the
goblet with the intention of calling on the dead in order to gather their
strength making her a supreme being. More than vampire or human. A demigod.
Shanka fortunately was killed in the middle of the ritual. She never got to
see if her most dangerous and powerful magic would work.
Around the 1500s, a vampire got their hands on the goblet. It is said
that this vampire “god” actually was real for a time. Supposedly, he was
overthrown and killed, yet again.
No one knows what would happen if someone did find the secret of the
goblet again. But we can speculate if someone did come to have as much power as
Shanka, the world would end and The Drinker would control the Earth.’
“Lovely,” I growled.
I sat there thinking about what I had read. Creepy is one thing, but this
was something else. Nothing fazes me much. It can’t in my line of work, but
this did. It made me feel dirty and uneasy. I decided that a shower would do
me good and help me formulate my plan.
After exiting the shower, mentally, I forged my plan. I would scope out
the museum first and check for week points. After detecting those, I will find
away to grab the most elusive object known to man. Lastly, I will get the
stupid sippy-cup to Arthur and collect my cash. I feel like paying off my
debts and maybe buying a new car.
The next morning I awoke to a flaming ball of hell staring me right in the
eye. I don’t really like the sun. I dressed in my usual gear, black trench,
trousers, T- shirt, and my ever faithful combat boots. People say I should
dress more colorfully. I usually stand silently and stare them down.
Instantly, they remember that they have an appointment else where and split.
It’s not that I’m mean to people (that’s a blatant lie), I just prefer black
rather than looking like a leprechaun’s rainbow threw-up on me.
I walked up to the museum. I couldn’t believe this chunk of cement could
hold this thing. It just didn’t seem right that something so old and powerful
could be in this building. But it doesn’t matter what I think. I guess I
better take a look at the thing that will probable give me twenty to life in a
quaint cement cell.
“Howdy there. How you’al doin’? I’m Darcy. You wanna tour?” said the
guide. She was blonde, about fifteen with a southern drawl. She made me
cringe. She looked me in the eye which was a mistake. She quietly looked down
and smoothed out her matching tweed skirt. Brownie points for not running
away.
“I’m just going to look around for my million dollars,” I responded
truthfully.
Laughing nervously, Darcy responded, “Okay, I’ll be on my way.” She tuned on
her pink heels and walked away.
This just proves that when you tell the truth no one believes you, so it’s
better to just lie.
My combat boots echoed loudly as I walked across the large corridor toward
the room marked Ancient Artifacts. Gold blinded me when I entered the room. It
covered every inch of the room. The sight made my head swim.
“Wow,” was all I managed to whisper. There was my million dollar baby.
It stood in the center of all these riches in a simple glass box. I
thought the goblet would be encrusted with jewels, but it wasn’t. The famous
Shanka Goblet was a roughly carved wooden goblet, nothing more. Ironically,
this, of all the things in this room was the most valuable.
I let out a low whistle. It was answered by one of seven guards leaning
on the wall. They were lined up like toy soldiers decked out with buzz cuts,
fifty inch arms and automatic machine guns.
The guard in question was big about 250 pounds. He had a buzz cut like
the rest, but side burns from Ireland to Siberia. His brown eyes swept over me
then the room silently taking stock of the gold and jewels. I felt a twinge of
satisfaction that he thought I could have already stolen something right under
his nose. The words, “in time” came to head.
I gave a weak smile. He just looked at me. I walked up the altar that
held my prize. It looked encased in a simple glass box. I could smell the
magic rolling off of it like an old women’s strong perfume.
© Copyright 2006 Felicity Black (voguegal at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1068394-Felicity-Black-chapter-2