The story of scales
page 2
As I approached the sorry excuse for a man whom paid for this big fancy home I now stand in by stealing from people in there times of grief as he had done to me I saw a look upon his face that said why are you here disturbing me at that moment I had to resist the urge to rip this man’s throat out this was of course the doing of the demon inside of me. I could tell by the look upon his face that he was totally oblivious to the power that had to be resonating from me at the moment for the man’s vicious looking pit-bull was in the corner whimpering at the very sight of me. I told the man he had three seconds to tell me were the sword was before I made him tell me were it was. At this remark he merely laughed in my face and told me to get out. I then nearly threw him across the room, he then began to stutter saying” I, I, I, I sold it to the museum! Pa, pa, pa, please don’t hurt me, please”! I then left for the museum.
When I arrived at the museum I tried the front door, hay its not like I am a master thief or anything, it was obviously lock. So I climbed the tree that grew right next to the museum I was prepared for this I did it just like they do in the movies I cut a hole in the skylight and climbed down on a rope. I then grabbed the sword, the alarm went of the police were there in minutes all of a sudden my scar began to burn and my back began to hurt, my two slits in the back of my shirt then ripped open with a pair of wing emerging from them. Just as the door of the museum busted open I flew into the air breaking though the skylight and flying home. I landed right out side my window I opened it and crawled threw.
