The woman set down her cool, condensating glass with a clink of the ice after taking a deep sip of her stiff iced tea. When she’d made her order, the staff had been a bit surprised that someone wanted alcohol so early in the morning. They were a cafe by day but bar by night, so they had it on hand and weren’t going to refuse a paying customer.

Drinking before a job was something Krayat hadn’t done in quite some time, especially not during the day, as she usually worked by night. But this caper was one of the most difficult she’d been assigned in quite a while—well, at least since the last time it was requested of her.

This job was already breaking one of the cardinal rules of being a master thief. The first rule was to never steal from anyone who couldn’t afford to lose what was being stolen. Her primary virtue was to improve her own life, not to ruin others, but that wouldn’t be a problem in this case.

By performing this task, she’d be breaking the second rule of thievery: to never rob the same place twice. It was foolish and egotistical. Only those with greed in their eyes or a personal vendetta would dream of such a thing. Neither could be called professionals. But in this matter, she didn’t have a choice.

From the terrace of the bar, she stared anxiously at her mark for the day. It wasn’t a person, or an item, but an entire location: the Fiends For Hire compound. The last time she was here, Krayat had made a clean getaway with a marvelous prize in hand—one simple little vial. Her requestor had been so pleased that they hadn’t called upon her services from quite some time, until now.

It had been so long, she’d foolishly hoped that she’d never hear from them again. This was only compounded by a recent death in the news: the death of the Horage Vice-Rep, brutally murdered by two members of the Fiend group Above. She’d taken the day off when she’d heard about it, not because of mourning or distraction, but because she couldn’t hide her smile. And there was nothing worse for a thief than drawing attention.

Krayat had always assumed that this woman was the one behind the scenes, the one making the demands, the one blackmailing her into servitude. Even though the thief had never met the woman—always meeting with a proxy who seemed oblivious to their errand—all signs had pointed to that Vice-Rep.

She had been so certain of this fact, that the thief had been planning her biggest score yet: stealing back what had been stolen from her—rescuing her beloved. Krayat had almost finally narrowed down the location when she was approached by a new proxy. The man handed her a photo, showing that they’d been transported to a new location, once more out of her grasp.

And that was just to get her attention, to prove that she hadn’t been let off the leash just yet. The actual request had come a few days ago. There was no time-limit, but she knew it was never best to keep her ‘master’ waiting, lest she wanted to receive another, more unsavory photograph.

After taking another long draw of her drink, the thief pulled out a locket with two pictures inside. The one on the right was the one she cherished most in this world—a reminder and motivator for why she was risking her life. And on the left was a reminder to never trust anyone ever again—having broken rule three of being a master thief.

She had been foolish to take on an apprentice in the first place, but being a thief was a lonely life. So when someone had started following her around like a love-struck puppy, hanging on her every word, seeing her as the parental figure they never had, well, she’d let herself have a weakness.

It had been great for a long time, fulfilling in ways she never knew. But the apprentice always wants to become the master eventually, having their own ambitions and foolish notions of how they can surpass the one who taught them. He was the one responsible for getting Krayat in this predicament—this unbreakable web of forced servitude and blackmail.

She had been caught quite off guard when she turned into a Fiend—in the middle of a caper, her hand mere inches from swiping a priceless artifact. When her eyes suddenly flashed the color of sage, it had thrown her off, and almost triggered the alarm at the worst possible moment.

But after she’d collected herself, she instantly realized what had happened, since she wasn’t ignorant of the world and knew of Fiends. Krayat never would have guessed, though, that merely giving her avaricious apprentice a twisted lead would be enough for the world to blame her for his death.

That was all in the distant past now, and it had come with an important lesson. At least with his death, the last person who knew her real name had vanished from the face of Rathe. Now no one would ever be able to hold that over her again.

Krayat was in fact her real first name, but very few knew even that much these days. In the dregs of society, most knew her as Thief KR, and assumed the R was her initial for her last name, but they were far off the mark. She had thrown it away with her apprentice’s death, erased it completely since it was only a liability.

But she was also known as Kur, since that was what all the proxies would call her to get her attention. A few people had overheard it as well, and the name spread, often assumed as well as her actual first name. It was a baseless pseudonym, but her stomach still clenched anytime she heard it.

She’d had enough with dwelling on the past, though, so she stowed the locket and finished off her drink. But she still didn’t move since she hadn’t finished formulating her plan of attack. The last time she infiltrated the compound, it had been during the raid—countless chaos and bodies, easy enough for her to slip in and out without being noticed—even able to elude detection by the all-seeing Vixen, but that was solely thanks to her Curse.

And this time, she’d have to rely on her Curse as well to get inside, but it wouldn’t be so easy in this instance. Hell, she would have thought it impossible with their barrier back up, but her requestor had given her a tip on how she could use her power to slip right past it. She was praying that the bastard was actually good for something other than ruining her life and making demands.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

But there was nothing more that she could plan now from this distance. She’d have to get much closer and wait for the perfect moment. The reason she was doing this in the day, was because based on all of her intel, it was believed that the compound was far less occupied during business hours, at least by Fiends. But that would also make it equivalently more difficult to get inside.

Krayat stood up from the table and headed down the stairs. She made sure to pay her bill of course, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention before the thievery actually started. The job would be ruined not only if she was caught or identified, but if she lingered in the minds of those that had seen her.

A good thief could get away with their robbery, but a master would also steal the memory of them ever being there in the first place. In that way, Krayat envied her once former apprentice. He had been very plain looking, with no exuding charm or identifiable markings. One among millions with no reason to stand out.

Krayat wasn’t so fortunate. The movies may make thievery seem sexy and stunning, but beauty was just another liability, one she had to work to hide. But after her years of experience, she found it best not to hide it entirely. Rather, she went for a more unapproachable vibe. As if anyone who saw her would be bothering her if they engaged her or even let their eyes linger for too long.

She’d been a bit worried when she became a Fiend, no longer able to dye her hair when she wanted to hide her identity. Wigs also weren’t her favorite, uncomfortable and itchy, but she found that the problem was just easily solved with hats. Krayat had gotten lucky with her wine-colored hair after becoming a Fiend.

While still unusual, it wasn’t bright and vibrant like a lot of Fiends. She could leave a little bit dangling beneath the brim of her hat without drawing too much attention and giving her a much more natural look than if she tried to tuck away every strand. Her eyes were easy enough to cover up as well with sunglasses, which also added to her ‘leave me alone’ persona.

Her Curse Mark had also been easy enough to hide. Both of her palms were painted red—quite the cruel irony and identifier for a thief. But with some delicate looking gloves that she’d wear anyways to not leave fingerprints, none were the wiser. However, they did have to be modified once she’d learned her Curse, a small opening cut out on the back of the hand that was stitched to look stylish and purposeful

Walking down the main street of Bisomote, she certainly stood out amongst the rabble, but not in a way that would really turn heads. Most would assume her to be a tourist with a destination in mind, or possibly a business-woman with dealings ahead of her at the Fiends For Hire compound. No reason to be suspicious of her presence or accost her for anything.

While taking the walk slow, Krayat did take a moment to admire the quaint place. Any other time, she’d have no reason to visit. There was nothing worth stealing in Bisomote, or at least there wouldn’t be without the Fiends. It was a quiet town with no real riches to find, or at least no one she’d feel good about robbing, not in this stage of her life at least.

Now, with the front gates of the compound in sight, Krayat ducked down a back alley, having to make a bit of preparation. It was time to use her Curse, Contortionist. The name was a bit of a misnomer, since standard contortionism was a skillset she already had well before becoming a Fiend. Vents and ducts were another spy-related trope that were widely misrepresented in media. Very sparsely were they actually wide enough for a normal person to crawl through.

There were two parts to the power. The first was the ability to move the parts of her body around. For example, she could slide one of her eyes to anywhere else on her skin—most often the palm of her hand or the back of her neck. And it wasn’t limited to any parts of her body. She could tear herself apart, and put herself back together any way she liked, turning her body into monstrosities as long as everything was connected.

The second part of her Curse focused more on the compression side of contortionism, condensing herself down to a smaller stature. In a way, it reminded herself of dolls she had as a child where one would hide inside the other. But in Krayat’s case, she did it with her body parts, and unlike the dolls, each one didn’t get bigger.

For this caper, she would need to get small, unbearably small. The smaller she got, the more energy and focus it took, and the more uncomfortable it was, so she didn’t care for what she’d have to do.

Krayat started with her feet. They sucked inside of her legs, shoes and all, vanishing like they were never there. Then her legs sucked into her knees, her thighs sucked into her hips, her waist went inside her chest, her arms sucked into her shoulders, her breasts went up into her neck, and finally, her skull itself vanished.

To the unobservant, it might look like she disappeared entirely. But they’d just have to look lower, down onto the ground, where a fleshy looking rock rolled around. And then the rock blinked. Krayat had compressed her entire body into one of her eyes. Well, not entirely just her eye.

She’d left her eyelid and a bit of extra skin at the back to keep the eye safe. It was a lesson she learned immediately after the first time she’d attempted to compress to just an eye about how important that thin layer of skin really was. Not to mention the relief that came from being able to blink, or otherwise her very existence would just be a constant stream of information. It got maddening quickly without even a micro-reprieve.

Now Krayat was only on the ground because she had just transformed. Having to roll everywhere would be too painstaking and she wouldn’t even consider it. Her Curse had one extra benefit. It let the compressed body part float around, though not quite fly. The speed wasn’t great, and she couldn’t go very high—barely above her actual height if she strained herself, so she always had to stay rooted near the ground or something beneath her nonexistent feet.

This was how she’d infiltrated the compound the first time around and how she planned to do it again. The only problem was the barrier. Once she did a quick scan and found no one around, the eye floated back out onto the main sidewalk. But she didn’t linger, making her way to a nearby window planter and nestling her eye in a flower with a good view of the barrier and the compound’s main gate.

Krayat blinked three times in quick succession, activating the special contact lens she’d been given. This let her see the otherwise invisible barrier that she’d certainly be unable to pass on her own. It was hard to make out, but she could also work out a glimpse of the interior barriers that divided the estate into public and private sections—something she’d have to be cognizant of as well.

In reality, the woman could almost certainly enter the public section without anyone raising an eyebrow. She wasn’t on any known lists or databases, and had a fake profile specifically made for scanners. But that would also leave a log of her entering, something she couldn’t allow.

Thankfully, the thief didn’t have to wait too long before the perfect opportunity came driving down the main road.