The Thief - Raphael’s POV

Gryff's POV - Written by Raven Achlys https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/contests/91/submissions/64632/

I quickly slide my feet into my sneakers and I make my way outside. My phone buzzes as the front door closes behind me and I answer the call.

“Hello?” I say quietly as I make my way up the road.

“Raphael? Is that you? I can’t hear you!” I pull the phone away from my ear as quickly as I can. 

“Oliver. What is wrong with you man!”

“Sorry. I just wanted to check and see if everything was going as planned since I wasn’t able to make it and all”, Oliver states.

“Yeah, sure”, I say with a hint of skepticism.

“What!?! Maybe I forgot until a minute ago but at least I remembered before you brought it back up!” Oliver exclaims.

“Yeah, yeah. Listen I have to go. I need to get the book, remember?” I say overexaggerating a bit.

“Yeah, the one with all the spells and stuff, yada yada”, Oliver mutters.

“I don’t care if you believe me or not but it is a family heirloom and I need to get it before it falls into the wrong hands”, I state.

“Raphael.” 

“Yes?”

“Do whatever you want but when all this is over and you realize that everything was just a stupid kid’s story, remember one thing. I told you so.” Oliver's muffled voice states. 

“Whatever”, I add reluctantly. “It’s Epitome Bobiotheca, right?” I ask.

“That’s what I remember you telling me yesterday”

“I have to go. The security is insane here. I’ll call you when I have the book.”

I hang up the phone and slip my black hoodie over my head. I decided to go all black so it would be harder for anyone to see me this late at night. Black sweatpants, a black hoodie, and a black mask. 

I make sure the mask is positioned on my face correctly when I start to climb the gate surrounding the perimeter. One foot after the other until I make it to the top. I feel the metal wires digging into my palms the higher I get. I then jump down and the souls of my feet slam hard into the ground, while the dirt scurries for safety causing a large cloud of dust. I grit my teeth from the pain but continue on.

I make my way around the building looking for an easy entry but it seems that everything is heavily guarded. I reach the back of the library and find a small ladder that has rotted through. Three pegs up is an open window. I contemplate my choices and then decide to slowly make my way up the crumbling steps.

I make it up two pegs and am almost to the window when I hear a snapping sound. It is faint but I know that the ladder below me is giving way. I take my chances and jump. The tips of my fingers find the ledge of the window and I grip with all my strength. My arms are throbbing but I am too far to give up now. I breathe and inch my hands further onto the ledge. I use the rest of my momentum to swing myself into the window and I plunge headfirst into the dimly lit room.

I pray to God that there are no lasers or alarms that I may have just set off but as I lay on the floor nothing happens. I go to wipe the sweat off my forehead, but it stings and my hand coming back crimson red. I rip one of the seams from my shirt and lightly dab the wound. When there seems to be nothing else I can do I stand and walk to the door. 

*****

As I enter the next room the lights are all off, and the moonlight makes everything glow. I strain my eyes looking for lasers but there seems to be nothing. I make my way through aisles of textbooks and novels. A bookworm’s heaven is what you would call it. 

I watch my steps and make sure that no sound comes from my movement. As I get to the classics section I see a giant glass case. Inside is a brown leather-bound book. Exactly what I have come here for.

I unclench my jaw and release the tension throughout my body. I strain my ears listening for any other sounds and I shift my weight to one side. I hear a small creak from the floorboard below me and I panic. Inhale and- stop. I don’t breathe. In the eerie silence, I hear the slight jangle of keys and soft footsteps padding against the carpet. I exhale slowly and stay hidden thanks to the safety of the bookshelves. Light passes through each aisle. A guard watching the book.

I slowly make my way towards the glass case and am standing a few feet away when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I jump out of my skin from panic and turn around. There stands a guard but he doesn’t look too happy.

“What are you doing here?” he questions.

“Uh- thought I would check out a book. Midnight studying am I right?!” I answer horsley. I turn toward the self of classics and grab a random book. “Here it is!”

“Uh-huh. Sure”, he doesn’t seem amused, “and didn’t you question why the gate and front doors were closed.” He is scarcely calm for finding a guy dressed in all black, sneaking around a well-guarded library.

“You want the truth?” I decide to go all in.

“Yes,” he states plainly.

“O-okay”, I shutter. Here it goes. “I am here to take back what has always been mine.” The guard's body goes rigid.

“I almost forgot to ask, what's your name?” He sputters quickly. What an odd question to ask.

“Uh- what?” I say in confusion.

“What. Is. Your. Name.” He is getting angry now.

Casually I state, “Raphael- er, it's nice to meet you- um, sir?” Very very casual. Right. I scan his suit for a name tag. Gryff, interesting.

I can tell that Gryff is thinking but then he stares at me and goes to grab something from his pocket. A gun? A phone? A transportable alarm system? (Okay, that's over the top, but I think you know where I’m going here.) 

I run for the glass case and lift the book of the pedestal. I make a run for it but Gryff is shouting behind me and catches up quickly. I make a sharp left out the door to find a large hallway. Not stopping to think I make a right, left, left, and then stop. I hear the click of a gun and turn to face Gryff. He growls under his breath. I cower but I don’t loosen my grip on the book.

“Tell me who you are before I shoot you right here and now”, Gryff states.

With more light and fewer shadows I can see scars running down his face and a large gash in his neck.

“You aren’t a guard here are you?” I ask skeptically.

“No. I am not” he states but doesn’t stop there. “I was sent here to retrieve a book of spells. Only passed down from generation to generation. When I found out that it was in a library I knew I could get my hands on it. But I wasn’t just sent here to retrieve the book.”

At that, I feel a jolt in my stomach and my throat goes dry. I swallow once and then ask reluctantly, “What do you mean?”

“I was sent here to kill you”, Gryff states flatly. 

That’s when I beeline it for the door but only make it a few steps before hearing a pang. The sound echoing in my ears while I fall to the ground. I lay in my own blood and feel a bullet in my side, but why? 

How am I not dead?