• I often have qualms about my past. I don’t exactly regret what I did, what I do. I am a mastermind criminal. I disdain pick-pockets and thieves, and there is no one equal to my ability. My past is full of adventure, so I don’t regret it. You don’t believe that I am a mastermind? Let me tell you my greatest act. Do you recall how the Crown Jewels were “lost”? No, I, and I alone am responsible of that. They really make a room look ornate. From the Crown Jewels to the Sinking of Atlantis it obviously shows that I am the best in my trade. Okay, Okay I didn’t mean to sink Atlantis, but who new that the entire city was one big trap? Oh, wait, I forgot to mention one little detail. I’m not human. Sure, I look like a human, well, most of the time. You see, when I focus, I can shape-shift into the form of a dragon, pretty cool huh? Oh, and I live forever, meaning that I’ve found no way for me to die. I don’t age, I’m fourteen forever, and fire, drowning, falling from heights, and bullets don’t phase me at all. The only downside is that if I cry I’m condemned to live in eternal torture, but why on earth would I want to cry? I’ve seen people cry before, but I don’t understand it. I mean, crying never accomplishes anything. It just makes you seem weak and helpless. You’re still not convinced that I am as good as I say I am? Let me take you back eight-hundred years.
    January 27, 1216
    For a few decades I had been thinking of stealing the crown jewels. It was just a matter of formulating the perfect strategy. I spent two months calculating, refining, and speculating. This is an unusually long time period for me; I usually spend five or six days at the most. This time I knew I would have to have the perfect plan and I would have to execute it perfectly, failure was not an option. Then, I was finally ready to go. My heartbeat accelerated, this was the thrill I loved about my trade, and this is why I did what I did, why I do what I do.
    March 30, 1216
    This was it. I disguised myself, and spent the day as a guard in the castle, looking for the entries that were less heavily guarded. I found that the best way of entry was the Northwest Wing of the castle. Night fell, and I waited patiently for all of the lights to go out. This is one the most important things in being a criminal, patience. An impatient criminal risks being seen in the light, and somewhere, someone is most likely awake. One by one that last lights were slowly extinguished. My muscles and sinews tightened, I was ready for action. I slipped up towards the door and called in my most distressed voice,
    “Oh no! Help me! Help! Oh Help me! Help!” All of the guards came rushing out of the door at once, eager to “help” a damsel in distress. Of course this meant they had left the door wide open. I slid in, disappearing down the hall. I made a quick left then quickly backtracked. I cursed inwardly, why couldn’t the guards just do what they’re supposed to do? I slid behind a suit of armor actually glad that the guards weren’t doing their jobs, but instead drowning their systems in mead. They passed me, making snide comments about “Dog-face” who was their apparent leader. I pitied the man who had to take responsibility for these two buffoons. I quickly dubbed these guards Drunken Man One and Two. Then, I slipped quickly from my hiding place and flew silently up the stairs. I stopped on the third floor and listened. Guard Number One should be making his rounds on the stairs in 2.7 minutes. Sure enough, I heard metal clanking above my head some stories up. I knew that I had to act now if I was going to remain unseen. I quickly jumped over the railing pirouetting mid-air. I was now facing the stairs from where I had just jumped I reached for the railing, grabbing on at the last moment. I swung my legs to get some momentum going. I let go of the railing quickly grabbing the handhold that I, myself had placed during tour number four. It had come to my delighted attention that the stairs were just longer than my body were I to lay horizontally. I had found this out during a staged falling, I had rolled down the stairs, stopping on the last step in a flight and measuring myself against it. This allowed me to tighten my abdomen and swing my legs up and press my feet firmly against the wall. I let go of the handhold one hand at a time. Before I let go with my second hand, I placed the first hand against the wall. This would allow me to remain unseen unless the guard stood directly below me and looked up. I had a back-up plan if he did. I would drop from my hiding spot pointing my toes to his temple. This would knock him unconscious; of course snapping his neck was always a possibility. I generally against violence, but I would do what I had to. I heard Guard number one come jangling down the stairs. I grimaced; I had not expected each footfall to be quite so jarring. Here comes the big one, I thought, pressing my hands and feet tighter against the wall. Thump! I almost fell right then and there, but I managed to keep my grip. I exhaled in relief, but I knew that I was far from in the clear. I still needed Guard Number One to pass under me, preferably without him seeing the small fourteen year old tucked under the stairs. I held my breath making no noise except for the beating of my heart, but I doubted he could hear that. Guard Number One sauntered down the steps.
    “Dog-face,” He grumbled, “Just because I have more battle-scars than they’ll ever have doesn’t mean they have to make rude comments about me. I am their superior officer. Maybe I’ll assign them a few weeks of double shifts. See how cocky they are after that!” His rants faded as he moved down the stairs, too absorbed in his own petty problems to think about the possibility of a mastermind criminal right above his head. As he left I shook my head in disgust. Who are you talking to, I wondered incredulously, I mean really! Do you not have the cranial capacity to walk and think inside your head at the same time? That aside, I dropped from my concealed vantage point, making no more noise than a sparrow does as it alights on a tree. I crept up the rest of the stairs. I stopped when I made it to the Throne Room. I opened the door, just a tiny sliver. Nothing noticeable to the average human, but I was no average human. I closed my other eyes and looked through the miniscule opening. I saw Guard Number Two patrolling the perimeter. I had seen from many nights of stakeout that there was a slight interval of 4.2 seconds where Guard Number Two would be facing the wrong way to spot me. I waited for him pass a few more times, making sure my calculations were correct. They were, of course. I watched him intently as the right time grew near. Now! I bolted to the tapestry behind the Throne, making no sound as my feet flew so quickly that they blurred. I was concealed behind the tapestry with 1.8 seconds to spare. I let my breath escape through my teeth. Now, here was the hard part. I had seen no way to grab the Crown Jewels from their display case without incapacitating Guard Number Two. I planned to creep up behind him and strike the nerve cluster on his neck. This would knock him out for a few hours while I grabbed the jewels. Then, I would take the bottle of whiskey I had brought with me and pour most of the contents down his shirtfront. This would make it seem that Guard Number Two had drunk himself to unconsciousness. The only problem was that nerve clusters and reflexology were not a science, not yet anyways. There was always the chance that nerve clusters were as individual as fingerprints. I knew that I would have to take that chance though. There was no other way that I could think of, and I thought of everything. After he came past my shrouded vantage point, I followed him, creeping so quietly that I could hear his heart beating in the silence. I struck out, my hand jabbing at his neck! I had missed the nerve cluster because he had shifted a little to the right as I struck out. So, I had ended up poking the guard 3.4 cm. off target. Guard Number Two whipped around his mouth dropped slightly as he saw that his attacker was no more than a 14 year old girl. I began to give him a series of jabs to his abdominals, targeting the nerve clusters there.
    “Intruder!” Guard Number Two shouted as he fell to the ground, “Intruder in the Throne Ro—“ Guard Number Two certainly was dedicated to his job, I thought bitterly. I wasn’t unduly worried; I would just have to alter my plan. I quickly stooped over the unconscious guard and poured most of the bottle down his front and into his mouth. I then dragged him until-were he standing up- he was facing the full mirror made for Queens who couldn’t get enough of themselves and needed a mirror in every room. This would make it seem as though he had caught sight of himself in the mirror and had fainted dead away in fright. I quickly placed the flask that had contained whiskey into Guard Number Two’s hand. I slid back behind the tapestry as the tell-tale sounds of clanking metal announced that more guards were on their way. The guards burst into the room, looking around wildly. I quickly counted who all was there. I recognized Drunken Man one and Two, Guards numbers one, sixteen, and forty-eight. However, there was one individual whom I did not recognize. I was immediately suspicious, Why weren’t you present at the castle the past four weeks? I wondered. I appropriately dubbed this man Unknown number one, the first, and hopefully the last. Ignorance is generally the first step to incarceration. I felt a wave of uncertainty as I watched the guards discuss what to do next. The success of this phase depended on at least one of the guards being smart enough to come to my logical solution, and what I had seen of the guards so far was not promising. Drunken Man Number One spoke up,
    “Well, obviously, the poor fella has drunk hisself to unconsh-…unsonss-..uncon-…out cold” His words slurred together as his brain tried to overrule the copious amount of alcohol in his system.
    “Yeah, obviously,” added Drunken Man Number One, pleased to have contributed something. Guard Number Sixteen rolled his eyes.
    “Well, why did he sound an alarm then?” Just then, Unknown spoke up,
    “I think that he was drunk to the extent that he saw himself in that mirror, then passed out from fright or shock,” I smiled Thank you Unknown Number one, congratulations you were smart enough to fall right into my trap, I thought smugly. The guards dragged Guard Number Two’s body away, as they did this a woman’s scream came from elsewhere in the castle. They left at a run to protect the Queen, neglecting to leave someone to guard the Throne Room. I grinned, stepping out from behind the tapestry once more. My my, that is a lot of concern over a small rodent isn’t it? The guards will be disappointed to have run up six flights of stairs for a rat. I thought, feeling devilishly clever, for of course the scream was just the result of my perfect plan. I had placed a rat in the Queen’s room and had knocked it unconscious by way of nerve cluster. I had calculated the time it took for the rat to regain consciousness then had planted it accordingly. This would ensure that all guards would be absent from the Throne Room as I snatched the Crown Jewels. I skipped over to the jewels feeling quite confident as I began to shovel them into the big brown burlap bag (alliteration how clever) which was a little cliché, but it would serve the purpose I had for it. I strode to the window, opened it, and leapt from the sill. Now, I feel compelled to explain why I had decided to commit a most untimely suicide. You see, I had done nothing of the sort. After I jumped I fell about three meters onto a ledge that I had knowledge of prior to the jump. Here came the difficult part; I now needed to invoke my power of shape-shifting. I stripped off all of my clothing, feeling more than a little awkward as I sat on the precipice, drawing out the beast within me. That was the one thing I disliked about my transformation, I had to take off all clothing, lest they be shredded during my metamorphosing. Also, before I began to concentrate I tied the burlap sack around my right ankle in a large loop. After all, it is difficult to grip object with claws and no opposable thumbs. I sat in the meditative position for a little over an hour coaxing out the dragon within me. Then, I felt the power build inside me, adrenaline rushed through my veins as I began my metamorphosis. My skin began to mold my head elongated into a snout, my fingers grew and my nails thickened into claws. My teeth grew pointed and longer as well. I felt my feet change too, until they had changed to resemble a dogs, well, a dog with 2 cm. claws jutting from each toe. My eyes grew into a diamond shape, then red color washed across them, covering the pupil and iris. My neck grew new vertebrae sprouting in between the old ones. Two fleshy wings sprouted from my back. My tail-bone grew much as my neck had, giving me a tail. Then, I watched my skin in fascination as spikes that resembled jet-black arrowheads punctured up through my skin. However, I felt no pain, and none of my blood was spilled. Then, like dominoes the arrowheads fell onto each other revealing themselves to be scales. I studied myself in the moonlight. I was now a magnificent jet-black dragon with red eyes. I launched myself from the parapet, spreading my wings wide. Bloodlust, powerfully instinctual washed across me as I soared. My greatest desire was to let the beast take over and rain havoc onto the town below, but I knew I must not be detected. I overrode the desire to burn the humans, to dine on their flesh. I rose higher so I could not be tempted by sight or smell. I flew high over the English Channel, through France, until I reached the southern border of Germany. I looked down on the Germans in disgust, what a load of barbarians, I thought, appalled, Why don’t you shave once in awhile? I mean, it’s not like girls find your beards attractive. So then, who are you trying to attract, other men? I soared overhead finally coming to a rest in a cave near the apex of one of the Alps. I curled up contentedly; the humans never came up here, too cold and too much effort. I didn’t have any problems with the cold, something about the fire within me. Hmm…, I mused, The Fire Within, sounds like a good title for a book…I’ll have to write one with that title at some point. A pseudonym will be necessary though, I can’t have people realizing that I’ve been alive for so long.