Creeping onto the vaguely lit lawn of Martin’s property was easier than I thought it should be. With a carefully planned route I had made it to the front door, avoiding the two non rotating cameras at the front gate.
The motion sensor lights were bright, but easy to avoid by slinking past the half dozen cars in the driveway. Finally getting to the door.
A pair of binoculars and a few nights sitting in front of his property, proved that the door would be the easiest way to go. A few calls to the company, pretending I was thinking about using their company on my giant mansion, they gave me enough info to figure out how their system works. While the company logged every entrance and exit, the alarm wouldn’t go off if the door was unlocked within the first five minutes of setting it. So when the loud beeping started from inside the kitchen, Myc proceeded to grow a small nerve filled bone key. It was our attempt to break in without any smashed windows or loud noises.
The nerves on the end of the key gave us enough feeling to get a general idea of where the tumblers were on the simple lock. Myc was able to grow or shorten the bone grooves until a small key was made. With a simple twist the door was unlocked, and exactly four minutes later. We went inside the now dim mansion, and locked the door behind us, no alarm, minimum noise, and a key if for some reason something went wrong and we had to come back another time.
We should wait for a while, once he is deep enough in REM we can start our little heist.
Nodding in agreement, I headed to the closest and quietest looking chair to sit for the next few hours.
Looking around Martin’s house, it was hard to tell the man was as cruel as he was. Pictures hung on the walls of family and friends, paintings decorated a little alcove connecting the living room to the stairs. Bookshelves filled with a few too many DVDs and VHS tapes instead of books packed the remaining walls. That was a lot of movies for a single person during a time when streaming was a thing. A comfy looking couch and a full chef worthy kitchen all seemed like the makings of a normal albeit wealthy man. That was until I glanced at one of the pictures on the wall, walking over to get a better look.
I saw Martin with a few people, one of them was Mary, she looked happy. Thinking back to the half-starved woman that told me about how Martin ruined the poor woman’s life and killed an innocent man. All because he thought he could do whatever he wanted to whomever he wanted with no consequences.
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I know it is frustrating, but for now we have to focus on the long term. Revenge on this man will do nothing but keep us from achieving our true goals.
“I know.” I whispered. So with a sigh of repressed rage, I sat back down to wait till Martin was totally asleep.
* * *
It has been long enough, we should start searching the place now.
Heading out to canvas the nearly dozen rooms in the house. I found a few things that seemed like they could be worth selling.
Expensive watches and jewelry, a few diamond rings sitting in the kitchen. It was nearly an hour of scanning rooms before I found the safe behind a picture of himself. “I hate this guy so much.”
Carefully removing the picture, revealed a safe inlaid into the wall. Looking it over, it seemed like it was more expensive than my old apartment as a whole. Worried that it may be attached to an alarm, I proceeded to search the rest of the house before coming back.
After nearly another hour of searching, and even accidently walking into Martin’s bedroom. He slept drugged with what seemed to be enough pills to kill an elephant. I came back to the safe room with a few more valuables and the small bundle of cash Martin walked around with.
Nervous, but determined to suck this leech dry for all he was worth. We checked over the walls, and since neither of us were versed in electrical engineering. We shrugged and attempted to open the wall safe, cautious and underprepared but ready to ditch at the first signs of distress.
This may not work, we can't be sure of what the safe is made from or how thick it is.
“No point in not trying, we only have maybe forty or fifty in here. We won’t be able to get full price at a pawn shop and that is the only way to get rid of this stuff. It’s not like I know some fence, I worked at a hardware store.” We had debated on the best way to get into a safe that was most likely in the house. We had neither the time nor the skill to properly break into a real safe.
Deciding to use one of the strangest options that burglars have probably ever used. Spitting stomach acid to dissolve the safes latches, hoping that the alarm wouldn’t activate with the heat given off by the melting metal. So preparing to vomit all over this safe, my throat filled with mucus, making it difficult to breathe. My stomach felt full and sloshed with every movement, then with a careful inhale I hawked a sizzling ball at the safe.
Several carefully spat acidic loogies and a few minutes of waiting. The door to the safe shifted mildly, a closer and careful prod from a gloved hand revealed the door was open. A quiet squeal later revealed that the inside looked like a mob boss’s safe.
It appears that Martin enjoys a lot of movies.
“Tell me about it.” The safe had notebooks that were filled with random garbage. Stacks of cash folded over each other, and even a couple of seemingly real gold bars. “This isn't a safe, it's a waste of money.” I doubt that a pawn shop would be willing to buy a literal gold bar, or possibly a lead bar painted gold. Flicking through the cash revealed it was most likely fake, possibly even counterfeit. The sequential serial numbers would be easy to track and the bars were pointless. I grabbed the cash and notebooks to burn and the gold to bury.
It appears that our cult may not be as large as we initially intended.
“Fuck.” With a mix of disappointment and anger, I pushed the safe door as far as I could. Hung up the painting of Martin over the now looted safe, and proceeded out of the house. Avoiding the motion sensors and cameras, I got in my car and drove away.