TheNiteSiren
Virginal Temptress
- Joined
- Apr 13, 2013
- Posts
- 1,434
The Superdome was packed with people in New Orleans, a prime environment for someone like me, a thief. It was a wrestling event playing through this time. I had watched with the old man when I was little but couldn't watch as often while living on the streets. I learned long ago that the only person I could count on was myself. I had counted on my mother once and she died on me, leaving me with my old man. The only thing he did well was pick out a good bottle of scotch. My name was Cyren Fontenot, age : 24 and a professional thief before I even hit 15 years old.
I had somehow managed to sneak backstage where the Superstars and Divas had congregated. With all this confusion, I was sure that I could get away with a good haul before anyone could catch me. These guys had piss poor security which made it easy for me to find myself in one of the empty locker rooms. "Easy fucking pickings." I whispered as I began going through some of bags left there. Credit cards were too easy to track but Jewelry and cash would keep me fed for a while. In total I had lifted two watches, a ring and about $475 in cash. That would buy a good coat once the cold weather really kicked in here.
I snuck out as easily as I got in. My body froze when I heard a man yelling. It was pretty obvious that I didn't belong. As soon as I heard running feet coming my way, I pulled up my hood and took off. I was far from defenseless. Alot of people lived on the streets of New Orleans. One in particular had taught me how to protect myself. She had never told me her story but from what I could tell, she was a former soldier. I lost her last winter when pneumonia had finally caught hold of her and never let go. I still left flowers on the mark where she would sleep near Bourbon street. I owed her a debt.
These guys were going to have to pick it up if they wanted to catch me. "Bunch of pussies." I laughed and flipped over a vendor, landing on my feet like a cat. Someone must have finally caught up because a pair of strong hands gripped the back of my hoodie. I lashed out with a kick, trying to break loose. From the look in this guy's eyes, I had just made the situation worse.
I had somehow managed to sneak backstage where the Superstars and Divas had congregated. With all this confusion, I was sure that I could get away with a good haul before anyone could catch me. These guys had piss poor security which made it easy for me to find myself in one of the empty locker rooms. "Easy fucking pickings." I whispered as I began going through some of bags left there. Credit cards were too easy to track but Jewelry and cash would keep me fed for a while. In total I had lifted two watches, a ring and about $475 in cash. That would buy a good coat once the cold weather really kicked in here.
I snuck out as easily as I got in. My body froze when I heard a man yelling. It was pretty obvious that I didn't belong. As soon as I heard running feet coming my way, I pulled up my hood and took off. I was far from defenseless. Alot of people lived on the streets of New Orleans. One in particular had taught me how to protect myself. She had never told me her story but from what I could tell, she was a former soldier. I lost her last winter when pneumonia had finally caught hold of her and never let go. I still left flowers on the mark where she would sleep near Bourbon street. I owed her a debt.
These guys were going to have to pick it up if they wanted to catch me. "Bunch of pussies." I laughed and flipped over a vendor, landing on my feet like a cat. Someone must have finally caught up because a pair of strong hands gripped the back of my hoodie. I lashed out with a kick, trying to break loose. From the look in this guy's eyes, I had just made the situation worse.