The Raven's Ruse: A Dance of Shadows and Deception
An Intricate Game of Cat and Mouse in the Heart of London
In the heart of London, the infamous thief, Raven, eyed the Crown Jewels. The Tower's guards were formidable, but Raven was a master of shadows. Tonight, the jewels would be his. Under the cloak of darkness, he slipped past the guards, a whisper in the wind. The jewels gleamed, untouched for centuries. Raven's gloved hand reached out, but paused. A faint hum filled the air. A laser grid. Raven smirked. He pulled out a compact mirror, angling it to reflect the lasers. One by one, they flickered off. The path was clear. He reached out again, this time his fingers met cold metal. The jewels were his.
Suddenly, alarms blared. Red lights flashed. Raven's heart pounded. He'd been careful, too careful. He turned to escape, but guards flooded the room.
"Got you," a voice echoed. From the shadows, a figure emerged. Detective Hawk, his relentless pursuer.
Raven's smirk returned. "You think so?" He tossed something into the air. A smoke bomb. In the ensuing chaos, he vanished.
Hawk coughed, waving away the smoke. The jewels were still there, untouched. A note lay beside them. "Better luck next time, Hawk.
Raven had stolen nothing but the night.
About the Creator
John Porfy
With a focus on topics such as personal development, mental health, sustainability, and social justice, my articles on Vocal seek to create a safe space for readers to explore new ideas and challenge the status quo.
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Echoes of the Forgotten City: A Jungle Odyssey
In the heart of the Amazon jungle, a group of intrepid explorers embarked on a daring mission. Their objective was to locate a long-lost ancient city, rumored to hold untold treasures and secrets. The team consisted of Dr. Amelia Thompson, a renowned archaeologist; Jack "Hawk" Hawkins, a fearless ex-military pilot; and Luna Martinez, a skilled survivalist and naturalist. Together, they formed a formidable trio, each bringing their unique skills and expertise to the table.
By John Porfy3 years ago in Fiction
The Unthinkable
I don't do dark skinned sistah's. They just don't appeal to me. I like them light-skinned and thin with long, black, hair. Well, at least, that's what I thought, until she came around. I was drinking a latte when she entered the coffee shop. She walked past me towards the counter. Her skin was the color of mahogany, a color brown that I wasn't accustomed to noticing, that is, until now. She was wearing a magenta business jacket and skirt with an off-white blouse. Her shoes were black with straps that crossed each other and wrapped around her ankles. I tried to ignore her, and tried to place my attention elsewhere, but she just stood out. I found myself staring at her, eyeing her from head to toe. Every time I fought to look away, I found myself eyeing her again. I looked down at my cell phone, scrolled through articles on my favorite news app, and took slow sips from my latte, trying hard to make sure that my eyes stayed focused on one of the articles. I even thought about Sheila, the lovely sistah' in the complex next to mine. She was tall and thin like a model, had a head full of long, lovely, black hair that flowed down past her shoulders. Her skin was high yellow, and her eyes were the most beautiful green that I've ever seen. I was sitting thinking about Sheila and how I would approach her but, suddenly, I looked up and saw her. She was standing in front of me sipping from her cup. My eyes locked in, and she looked back at me, smiled and approached me. "How are you?" she asked. "Name's Seyrann Oku." "Hello," I replied. "Didn't get the name," she continued. "Maxson," I replied. Maxson Welch." "Oh, like the Jam?" she asked, laughing. "I bet you go well with peanut butter." Her laugh was infectious, all I could do was stare. If I opened my mouth and replied to that peanut butter comment, nothing but foolishness would come out, so I just kept quiet. "Oh, the strong silent type," she said, still smiling. "I like that." "I...I...I wanted to put her down, wanted to tell her that I wasn't into dark-skinned sistah's, wanted to tell her to get lost, that she didn't have a chance in hell, but I had a problem. I just couldn't get my mouth to move. "Look, why don't you come over, and I'll make you a nice supper." she said, still smiling. "I bet you haven't had a home cooked meal in ages." She was right. I haven't had any home cooking since I left home fourteen years ago. Long time to go without home cooking. All I've done is fancy restaurants and delivery, especially when I was trying to bag women like Sheila. "Here's my address," she said, still smiling. "It's easy to find. It's across the street from the Neon Palace." "The Neon Palace?" I said, trying hard to fight my cornballism, "Isn't that the Chinese fusion restaurant that everyone raves about?" "Don't even think about it," she said. staring directly at me. "A home cooked meal is what you need. See you at eight." I wanted to tell her not to waste her time, but it just wouldn't come out. All I could do was sit there and stare. When I got home, I seriously thought about standing her up, leaving her straight hanging, but I didn't, I showered up, got dressed, and I went right to that woman's house. I found my way there just like she said I would. I got to her apartment and knocked on the door. I pushed the door gently, and it opened. As I walked in, I was greeted with a wonderful aroma. I was expecting her to still be preparing food, but I saw everything there on the table. "Hello?" I said, looking around. "Your door was open." I was about to say something else, and then she entered the room. She was dressed in this wonderful outfit. The top half looked like a nightie, and the bottom half looked like a scarf just tied around her waist. "You're right on time," she said, smiling. "Come. Sit. Let us eat." Seyrann prepared my plate first and then prepared her own. We ate. It was quiet until she asked me to tell her about myself. I told her my story, told her where I came from, where my people were from, and how I got here. I talked about my job and some of my ambitions, and then, I asked her to tell me some things about herself. "I work in the city," she said. "I'm into advertising." "A lot of accounts?" I asked. "Several," she replied. "Any I might be familiar with?" I continued. "And why would you want to know that? she asked. "So we can make conversation and not end up boring one another." "Talking about what we both do for a living is boring." she said, staring at me. "So, what do we talk about? I asked. "Rituals," she replied. "Rituals?" I said, staring back at her. "Yes," she replied. "Between man and woman." I was about to say something, but she cut me off. "Say this mantra with me," she said. I was against it, and I was ready to leave until she held both my hands and spoke to me. "It's alright," she said. "You'll find peace with me." We began to read the mantra, and I suddenly found myself kissing her hands. As we both continued reading, I found myself pulling her close to me. Our words were in sync as we held each other, and we embraced for what seemed like hours. I found myself walking her to her bedroom within that embrace. As we completed the mantra, I bowed before her and gently kissed her feet. I found myself on my knees before her complementing her beauty. "Stand up," she said. "You were not meant to kneel." "You put a spell on me," I said, not knowing what else to say. "This is your truth," she said, "If it were not so, neither of us would be here." The night with Seyrann was like no other, never had I felt this way with any woman that I had pursued. It was as if we had known each other for seven eternities. With each touch, with each embrace, we'd go to levels where our minds would touch, where we knew each other's thoughts and dreams. Our spirits embraced and we tasted each other in ways that could never ever be explained in the physical realm. I tried hard to fight what I was feeling. It just didn't feel right to let go with a person who was not outwardly suitable to that fake world that had I created around me. I didn't want to go where my own truth was taking me. But wherever I went within the embrace, and within our coupling, she was there with me. Seyrann and I would go down this road many times. We'd read that mantra and go places that the world said was just a figment of our imagination. I know realize that my truth is with this woman. For years I denied women like her for the simple fact that I knew deep down that somewhere, down the road, I would find her and be complete.
By John Scipio3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
You did a great job of painting your picture. I especially liked the line, '..a whisper in the wind'.