Stealing The Twenty Six

I'm going to kick off my blog with possibly my most ambitious (and maybe least successful...) short story. I know that it needs work but still need to figure out how to drop bigger clues about what the stolen twenty six are, without giving the game away too obviously. Any suggestions are very welcome.

“The quick brown fox jumps over a lazy dog,” Mary-Kate White savoured every letter in the pangram for the last time. Then, because she was a perfectionist, she added: “Cwm fjordbank glyphs vext quiz.” She sighed deeply but the satisfied smile soon stiffened into a determined look as she moved along towards her goal. Things were about to change. She had no choice but to do this – people had had their chance for so very, very long and they had ruined it. That incident on the bus had been the final straw for her – it was a mystery how she had managed to control herself surrounded by the abuse of those youths. In a way, it was for their own good. Yeah. Sorry; “yes”.

There they stood before her, almost defying belief but her heart knew this was no lie. Temptation flickered through her mind for a moment to take them all now. Keep them where they belonged, where they would be truly appreciated. But no, she resisted, just one for now. See if anyone notices; then come back for more. After all, it had been surprisingly easy to get this far. Granted, first the Quay, then the Bridge and finally the Gate had all flummoxed her briefly but now that she knew their secrets she could return any time she desired. And oh how she desired to spend as much time in this wondrous place as she could. She lost track of how long she spent there, admiring each one individually then sitting back and taking them all in as a complete entity for one last time. Then she nervously moved over to the one that had taken her fancy and opened the container she had ready for it.

“Judge my vow,” Mary-Kate White paused then and bottled her prize, “Sphinx of black quartz.”

She ran as quick as her legs would allow, did our Kate White, faltering for a second as the effects of her actions hit her. Her identity would have to change now that she possessed her gift but that was a tiny price in exchange for one of the greatest treasures. A treasure so valuable that the thought of taking it had never even seduced the wildest fantasies of the greatest thieves.

Days, weeks and... other durations... passed and the world did indeed notice but couldn't quite understand the change. Official addresses were forcefully dropped, save for the highest Sirs and Ladies of the world; roads connecting the cities of Britain conjured up deeply unsettling feelings to all who drove there upon and the finest poets and singers consistently lost their flow. No one could understand what was causing this tiny but persistent itch to their every day lives. Save for Kate White, who gazed lovingly at her prize for hours each day.

“But this is not right, it should not be alone,” she told herself on a day following a Sunday, “If I release it, things will be as before. The world does not deserve this, nor any of the others. The love I have is the greatest, so they should all be with I.” And with that she ventured back to the place where her beloved dwelt to take possession of further treasures.

Kate White stood nervous in the forbidden place, wondering which ones to take next. She was torn between her desire to cradle every last one and her fear of being caught then losing everything. Eventually, she decided upon just two of her favourites and opened the containers ready. “Quite exciting,” her entire body buzzed as she snatched the precious pair. As she turned to leave, Kate White paused and turned towards one of the big five with a glint in her eye and patted one that she had just taken, “Well, this one would be worthless without the other...” 

With two and two of the prizes locked in the wardrobe of Kate White, the world fell slowly into disorder. Lacking the pair none asked for the answers they so desperately wanted, and with the other gone daily thrills appeared fewer and fewer. The thief was too dazzled by her slowly growing collection to notice the distress in every direction. However, she was no longer content with a few and the craving to own every last one grew with every day. She opted to control her desire, for now, and only lead the world a little deeper into her insanity. “Patience, Kate White. Take half now then the rest another day, if they still beckon.”

While the dock had lost its power over her, the Bridge and the Gate still took a great deal of skill to pass to one who didn't know their secrets. Kate White passed both and breathed in the air of the forbidden place once again.

Too late to stop. The chaos will not slow now. Few can stay sane this way. Howling is easy, speech is not. English wilts into yelps. Call the one with the owl to help. Please. Only he can fight this. Please... He follows, he watches, he waits, while White glances at the stolen. She wants all. With only the Gate in the way, White acts with haste to steal. Steal. S_eal.

W so lonely. Now only nonsense. Only slowness. Only woe. W senses lens. Yes, solo owl's eyes on snow see W's news. Ene_y.

...

…hit the floor hard as every last one of the containers spilled over, releasing their contents. Mary-Kate White shrieked as a thousand suppressed thoughts flooded into her mind at once. Luckily for her, the wounded attacker was experiencing the same and grasped his head as he became overwhelmed by the echoes inside. She dodged another swoop from his winged familiar and grabbed the dropped gun before he could.

“Waltz, bad nymph, for quick jigs vex,” the detective used his last moments to deliver a holoalphabetical curse as he stared the down the barrel at the bullet would take his life. He would welcome death over the world she had planned.

Mary-Kate White unleashed a primal roar; words unable to justify her outrage. She squeezed the trigger again and again and again and again – long after the shots were replaced by feeble clicks –  until her own blood trickled from her finger tips. Then, with all the tranquillity of the hypnotised, she paced through the shallow tide of blood slowing creeping across her kitchen floor. She didn't spare a glance for what was left of the man's shattered skull, as the treacherous owl picked out its gooey dinner from between fragments of bone and lead. Mary-Kate White lovingly picked every one of the nineteen spilled containers from the floor and carefully checked to ensure they hadn't been damaged beyond use in the fight. She packed seven new containers into her bag and set off for one last quest to the place that had started to feel like a second home. No Quay, no Bridge and no Gate would hinder her now. Soon, her quest would be complete.

.._