Shattering The Night: Prologue

"Right….there," his self-assured voice muttered as his black gloved hand reached toward the glimmering object. As his fingers took hold, the brightly lit necklace bent out of its original shape, curling up into his gloved fist. Its luminance faded turning the small room pitch black, and dead silent. No alarms; that was a good thing. Not that the primitive alarms of the aristocrats were anything to brag about in the first place, but one clumsy enough could easily trigger their simple mechanisms. In this day an age, technology was a privilege for those select few with enough in their pocketbook to indulge in it. The common man resorted to stashing his valuables away secretly in various nooks and crannies hidden in their suburban homes. Meanwhile, the wealthy simply flipped open their wallets and the fringe of modern technology was at their command. Pathetic really, not even the best could protect this necklace, not from him anyway.

To be quite honest, there wasn't much that could be protected from him, once he had his mind set on stealing it of course. A stolen piece of art was a stolen piece of art once he actually stole it; eventually they all looked the same. The real thrill of course came when actually stealing the piece of art. Nothing could compare to the thrill of taunting the police and the media, then dashing away red-handed and unscathed. It happened every time; which of course is why this whole situation seemed rather unusual.

11 o'clock, the Museum of Art, he was sure he wrote that on the letter he sent to the police. And here, 11 had rolled right on by, the necklace was in his possession and still no police. Not even one curious little journalist trying to brownnose his way to stardom had even poked their nosey little heads around. Maybe they've given up. Ha, he had to laugh at that. If there was one thing he had learned from all of his years of stealing, it was that the police never give up, no matter how foolish their efforts. This had to be the first time his friends in blue hadn't shown up on time. That of course, only made the situation all the more curious. Next time, he thought jokingly, next time I'll print my name at the bottom of the note, my cursive is getting sloppy.

The soft padding of his footsteps was all he could hear as he casually walked through the familiar hallways of the Museum. Even in the pitch darkness, maneuvering was easy. The halls were so geometrically aligned, one only needed to walk through them several times before developing a sixth sense to where the walls were to begin and end. Odd, you would think that in the essence of security, one wouldn't make the passages so predictable, but then again, the rich like everything to be neat and orderly. Their loss.

"Hello?" he called out jokingly, not really expecting an answer. "Anyone home?"

Not surprisingly, he received only more eerie silence. He was sure he heard no sounds from alarms, and if he had really triggered one, he was sure the police would have swarmed in by now.

"Maybe they're outside," he muttered talking to himself since no one seemed available to listen. Gently, he plodded toward the ornate four paned windows of the second story main corridor. Peering through the thick glass, he could feel his plum colored hair mat against the top right pane. Looking down, his dark eyes could find nothing, only the shadows cast by trees in the dim moonlight. "I'm shocked, they really did give up."

"Oh come now," a voice faintly echoed from across the shadow filled corridor. "they don't give up that easily."

"Who's there?"

The sharp clicking of heels broke the chilling silence. A soft chuckle trickled into his ears. Through the window on the opposite end of the corridor, the dim rays of the moon cast a shadow on the approaching figure.

"You have no idea," the chuckling voice whispered. "how long I have waited to meet you, Mr. Dark Mousey."

Destiny's Quill- This is the prologue, so please R&R. The first chapter should be up shortly. This is a very easy story to write, because DNA is such a great series.

Disclaimer-I do not own D.N.Angel because if I did I would have a lot more money than I do now. The story is mine however.