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A Study in Scarlett

From Burglar to Robber.

When she first saw the house, Scarlett knew this was going to be a good night. But then again this was Belgravia, and all the houses here were quite rich although everyone thought their homes were defended okay with fancy alarms and locks. Scarlett walked out of the shadows into the street, and she waved her hand. A streetlamp went out. Another wave of her hand and another lamp went out. Another hand wave and another lamp went out, and so on until the majority of the street was cloaked in darkness.

Scarlett smirked as the lights went out, although she left a few of the Christmas lights on since she guessed the lights ran on a different circuit to the streetlamps. Granted, she still wasn't entirely sure what this and the other weird abilities she'd discovered for herself were, although she knew if her relatives were still in the land of the living, they'd call it freakish. But ever since she'd found herself on the streets after the night she'd killed the Dursleys a year and a half ago, Scarlett had experienced some very strange things happening to her, although she knew it had occurred several times before in the past. She had almost suffered a fractured skull when she ran afoul of a group of young men who'd drunk a bit too much, and while she had been hurt they had literally bounced off of her, although even Scarlett was uncertain of what had really happened.

One day, she had been wandering the streets of Camden. She had been incredibly hungry, and as she had passed a bakery the glass shattered when she had become so angry that the world was so unfair to those on the street, that she was desperately hungry there was a barrier between her and food for always…and then the glass had shattered.

Scarlett remembered how surprised she had been, but she knew it was not a fluke. After that, she had begun experimenting with the power, remembering for herself how she had felt on each occasion once she remembered the times in her past where she had done something her relatives hadn't liked.

She recalled feeling a very strong emotion, like anger or fear, and she had used that. Sure, it had taken a while before Scarletts' proficiency had grown, but as time had passed her skill had grown. At first, she was only able to move objects with her mind or with a flick of her hand, later she was able to turn on turn off lights, unlock doors, shut off burglary alarms. Scarlett was still experimenting with the basics of her abilities, but so far that was as far as she had come, although she was learning how to use her abilities for self-defence.

Scarlett shivered. It was getting colder on the run-up to Christmas, and she sneered at the sight of the decorations that she could see, while at the same time keeping to the shadows. The streets of London were far from safe, and Scarlett had already worked that out.

Christmas time only made that worse.

Unbidden, her mind conjured those moments; her first night in London where she had nearly been raped by that demented old lunatic when she had nearly been sold into child slavery and had only just managed to escape with her life intact. But the real reason she truly hated Christmas came when the Salvation Army had helped her. It had been during her first winter on the streets. It had been so cold, and Scarlett had struggled to survive before she encountered a decent spark of humanity when the Salvation Army took her in for a wonderful Christmas meal and a warm bed which had made her cry and had broken her heart because she had spent so many years believing, thanks to the sick conditioning of the Dursleys, she was undeserving of love because she was a freak.

On Christmas, Scarlett had been forced to serve the Dursleys while receiving nothing from them in return except scraps and beatings. As a result, the little girl had come to despise the holiday. She didn't believe that rubbish about Christmas being a time for giving, for family, especially when you lived in a family like the disgusting parody at Number Four. As the years had passed, Scarlett's disgust for the holiday, which the Dursleys always used as an excellent excuse to gloat as they stuffed themselves full of expensive foods - meats, ice creams, and puddings - while decorating their house lavishly (well, they had forced her to decorate for them because they were so bone idle it wasn't funny), saying that as a freak she deserved nothing but if she were a normal person then she would have the same food. At first, she had tried to be normal, but it hadn't worked. Not once. Not ever. She had still been exiled to that fucking cupboard under the stairs, forced to clean up after the filthy excuses for human beings, getting beaten up for things that she hadn't even witnessed occur or because Dudley had been so sad and pathetic he had needed to cause trouble which had inevitably gotten her into trouble.

When the Salvation Army had helped her, Scarlett had naively thought that everyone deserved some happiness, including herself. The Dursleys had lied to her by saying she didn't deserve to be happy because she was a little freak. She had thought that, because of the fact she wasn't even masking her age, the Salvation Army could alert social services and take her into foster care where she could hopefully be raised in a loving environment.

But no.

It was another lie. Her heart did break for a totally different reason when she was told she would have to leave, and the bastards had just ignored her and turned her out back on the cold streets, and she had returned to her life as a thief, and thanks to her 'Gift,' she was able to make things happen and she had. Her disgust with the human race had just grown, and her loathing for Christmas had shot up as well. But ever since she had discovered the Gift, Scarlett had used it to get revenge.

Now, each year after, she would break into houses celebrating Christmas and she would steal their food. She stole turkey, beef, goose, chicken, and in some cases a large chunk of lamb while leaving behind scraps which symbolised how she had been treated during that accursed period she had existed on Privet Drive, along with veg and pudding.

Scarlett didn't care one iota if she was punishing people some would consider being innocent of what a handful of people had done, but in her mind what she was doing was justified not only because she was the one doing it, but also because she was punching the human race collectively for their abuse. Did she care she was depriving children of the right to Christmas? No, no more than they had cared about what she had gone through.

Some could say Scarlett was a psychopath or a sociopath due to her lack of empathy towards other human beings, but she found it made her life easier.

She smirked as she waved her hand and opened the door while she waved her hand again to silence her footsteps while she looked around the hall she had walked into. It was essentially a long narrow passage with an open door just ahead which was the main source of light in this otherwise dark passage and she could see another door further down. Brief study over, Scarlett stepped forward slowly so she could creep over to the open door she could see just ahead, but she hadn't gotten more than a few feet inside before she heard a scream and the whimper of what sounded like a little kid.

"Shut up, you bitch!"

Scarlett stopped in surprise. What was that? It was coming from the doorway, but she couldn't tell see anything. Cautiously Scarlett edged her way forward…