The Theft of Fate

They called me a thief, but I was an artist, the maestro of the heist. And as long as the night whispered my name, I would continue to dance in its darkness.

I slipped through the window, adrenaline fueling my every move. The gallery was alive with secrets, a whispered gathering of masterpieces, but I lusted for only one.

My eyes locked onto my prize—a shimmering diamond nestled beneath a glass case. With a flick of my wrist, I released a cloud of smoke and revealed a web of red beams of light that danced across the room.

I smirked.

Swiftly, I darted through the light maze, my reflexes honed to perfection. My gloved fingers brushed against the cold surface of the glass, unlocking it with practiced ease.

As I reached out and grabbed the gleaming diamond, a sharp pain shot through my chest. Staggering back, gasping for breath, my vision growing blurry, I collapsed to the floor.

"Shit!" Panic laced my thoughts, "The curse, it's real!"

In my throws of agony, a strange voice whispered in my mind, filled with darkness, “Forever mine.”

I clutched my chest, my body wracked with pain, as the cursed diamond claimed its prize.