Chapter 2 Stole A Key
You could run away, the voice in Wendy’s head whispered. Walk through the square towards The Doll Maker but then cut left at the—
But as the thought was passing through her head, a Constable, wearing a Shawl Black long coat, turned the corner and began walking down her street. The ground vibrated with each step he took and as he got closer his large shrouded shoulders blocked out the sun. He stopped right beside of her and looked down.
“Lovely. Day. Isn’t. It.” The voice behind the mask said. The mask, standard issue of the Constabulary, looked very much to Wendy like the face of an infant, cracked and peeled with age. And the voice coming from the seven-foot brute was not deep and heavy. It was almost childlike, taking its time with each word and a laugh behind each syllable.
“Yes,” Wendy said. “Yes, it is.”
“Your. Mother. Asked. Us. To. Keep. An. Eye. On—”
“On me as I go to The Doll Maker’s?” She finished for him. In her mind, she cursed her mother but was glad that they the brute hadn’t been asked to put her in the cage on his back. She willed herself to smile at the Constable and nodded.
“It would be my pleasure.” She said.
“And. Much. Congratulations. On. Your. Visit.” The Constable said, standing back up at full height and offering her an arm. As she took it, she noticed the large ring of keys on his belt. There was easily a key for every house in the TickTople as well as the gates to the Convent and the main gates of the town.
The voice in her head began to go off like an alarm.
Keys. He has keys. You could steal them and—
And die. If she was stupid enough to try to take the keys from a Constable, she would deserve to be ripped apart the way Regina Cobbleton had been three weeks ago. She hadn’t tried to escape or anything like that. No, she had been caught outside during curfew trying to sneak into the Convent. As the Constable led her down the street, she was sure he actually slowed down to make sure she could still see the remnants of the stain that had been Regina Cobbleton.
But if you got the keys…just one…you could hide! You could…
Wendy’s eyes caught the sigil over the gates of the Convent. She had seen it many times but for some reason, she had never really remembered it until now. It was a circle with four lines running down it, two long ones in the middle and a short one on either side. The voice in her head demanded she looks at the keys again. And when she did, she saw a silver one with the same sigil.
Take it! Take it!
The Constable would suspect.
No. It’s at the very end of his loop…he won’t know. Wendy, you have to do it! You must!
It was the fact that her inner voice used her name. She had never remembered having her inner voice use her name before. Something about that told her that this was more than just her desire to run…it was a matter of life and death.
With a quick movement, she slipped her arm further through the Constable’s arm and wrapped her hand around the silver key. They continued walking down the street and many of the ladies on the street waved to her with gloved hands and bright colored hair. It would seem that those who have made their Visits before liked to support their sisters.
Finally, the cottage of The Doll Maker was in sight. It rested down an alley behind all of the shops and taverns. The cobblestone street descended at a steep angle and she decided that this might be the best time to finish what she had started.
“Oh!” she cried, letting her feet fall out from under her. Her bum hit the street and she broke free of the Constable, jerking the key off of his belt and slipping it quickly into her underwear as she rubbed her bottom.
“Watch. Your. Step.” The Constable said, the voice suddenly threatening and cold. No doubt she had put the Constable in a panic mode. They were always prepared for any threat, even if it was a false alarm.
“Sorry. I slipped and…”
The masked face looked down at her, tilted to the left, then the right, and then nodded.
“Almost. There,” it said, once again in a childlike manner.
As she took his arm again, she smiled, feeling the keypress against her rump.
Just in case, she thought. Just in case.
The cottage was hidden in the shadows of the shops above. The Constable hung back as she approached. In the windows are the finest dresses and wigs she had ever seen. Beautiful bodices…long skirts and fun patterns…all there for her to try on…all for her to wear…
Stay focused, the voice in her head shouted. It’s there to distract you!
“What?” Wendy asked herself. “What does that mean—” But then the door of the cottage opened and out walked a very small, very old man.
Continued…
Wendy had stolen a key for the gates to the Convent. Would the Constable aware this later? And What would the old man do with Wendy? Let’s see Wendy next week.
Let’s admire the coat in this chapter. Hope you like this handsome coat.
a Shawl Black long coat –Punk Gothic Nobleman Detachable Shawl Black Thickened Men’s Long Coat
