#fredder

Lawyer x Thief 

Kreacher Pierson is the deputy of the court , one of the people promised to bring justice to the world , punishment to those who deserved it . He is coming to meet a reporter , who said that he had information about the famous thief ‘Pioneer’ . If he has that information , it will be really useful . 

The place they are about to meet is a room in a private hotel with high security . What a pain ! 

Kreacher arrived at the room mentioned in the letter . Number ? Checked . Floors ? Checked . No cameras ? Checked . No one is around ? Checked . 

Kreacher swifly opened the door . After coming in , he carefully closed the door . Its fine to be careful these days , you will never know what will happen next in the future . 

"I am the deputy of the court . I heard that you had a report on the thief ", Kreacher announced himself with the reporter , who is enjoying his tea time and definitely doesn’t expect anyone to come now. 

He must have come much much sooner than the time in the letter , Kreacher thought . 

"Yes , i do “!, Freddy said with wide eyes , but then quickly grabbed the document on the table ,” With all the information i have gathered about this buglar , I'm so surprised that the government has not caught them yet ! " 

"Might i assume that you are here to give those documents for us to handle the rest ?", Kreacher stepped closer . 

" No . I don’t trust the government “, Freddy put the document back to his bag , and about to take something out if the said deputy is going any closer ,” and after seeing you here . My trust has gone from minimum to non-existent" 

"Then why are you here , Mr.Riley ?", Kreacher stopped in his place , took his hat off and hid his hand in it . Both of them maintained their distance . 

"To strike a deal . I will sell these to whoever pays the most " , Freddy said in a mocking tone , “ the government , the public , or even the thief himself “ 

That man is sure troublesome , is he thinking that he has an upper hand here ? , Kreacher wondered .

"Mr.Riley , i need to remind you it's the responsibility of every citizen to give the government any criminal-related information ", Kreacher walked backward to the door , kept his eyes on the reporter , hand is still hidden," Its the best for your safety " 

"Such fancy words coming from a thief . Right ? The famous thief 'Pioneer' ?", Freddy definitely cant be wrong . He knows it as clear as the sky what the real identity of the person in front of him is . The only thing he doesn’t know is what will happen next in the future . 

He shouldn’t have said that , shouldn’t have touched something he shouldn’t touch . Now . I . Am . Mad  , Kreacher cracked his facade . 

" Ha ha ha ! Yes ! Yes . It . Is ", 'The thief' laughed in madness and locked the door .

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                   A tale composed from the sleepy mind of Klaus Sailinsey

Charlie was awake. The problem was that his body had yet to adjust to the jet lag caused to him from fly ahead 6 hrs. He was already a poor sleeper, which caused nights of intellectual exertion. This night he was located at a holiday camp in Doncastor, Yorkshire. He laid on a rather lumpy sofa directly across from the furnace. At, approximately, 2:12 in the morning the furnace began moaning terrible sounds of disgust. Charlie was given the willies by the sounds. Upon staring at it, he slowly crept his gaze back to the book clutched in his hand: The Call of Cthulhu by H.P. Lovecraft. He swiftly turned each page and gobbled up the words printed upon them. At last, the final word appeared: eye. In addition, with that Charlie shut the book, laid it on the floor, and glanced at the curtains in front of him. He noticed that another pesky fly had gotten into the room. So he shot up and with enough speed to impress even Mr. Miyagi, snatch the fly. In the motion to turn, he was, when all of the sudden the shadow of a humanoid figure shot across the curtains. Charlie's notification of being aware of what he just saw was signaled by the wet spot now located upon the front of his trousers.

He gripped the curtains and pulled them back. Whatever the figure was, it was no longer there, unsurprisingly. Charlie fumbled for the light switch to lit up the darken room he was in. So, with the flip of that particular switch, the room he was in became as bright as day.

This, unknowingly to Charlie, alert the being to the source of it's desired. Using it optical receptors it targeted on the darken figure behind the layer of glass. Rearing its legs, it rushed forward.

Charlie kept scanning the space in front of him. With a sigh and a paranoid thought, he turned his back. Walking back to the couch, he kneeled down and grabbed the book he was previously reading. He prepared his body to stand up only to have the ear splitting sound of glass exploding forwards him interrupt his thoughts. He reflexively shields his face. Which, coincidently, worked due to his hands being thick enough to stop the shards of glass from going all the way through them? The only downsides being that the fresh wounds were spewing out massive amounts of blood and for the nerves within them to be forevermore crippled.

Charlie looks upon the place where the window once was only to find a hulking figure with tentacles looking back at him. He looks down at the book cover lying upon the floor and then back up at the assailant. It was the motherfucking Cthulhu. The silence of the room wad disrupted by the renewed moaning of the heater which, seemingly, enraged Cthulhu. With an incomprehensible roar that no human could/would dare to describe it charged at the heater and rammed right into it, causing the terrible sounds it was producing to stop. Charlie was within arms distance of its tentacles. Cthulhu fixed its eyes upon Charlie and whiffed the air it smelt of blood. It now identified Charlie as its new prey gripped him with one of its many powerful tentacles, and chewed Charlie right up. Resulting in instant death for him in the next hour.

After note:

Leaving contempt, Cthulhu went back to his dimension, leaving everything as it was. The only people disappointed at this act were the folks who ran the holiday camp, the bastard had yet to finish his payment for the stay. That added to the damage and cleaning of the room resulted on the money that they barely had to not meet up to the standard amount as published by the British government and they were unhastily shut down.

The owner took up drinking while the wife became a street prostitute. Within a month, the owner had had enough and below his head matter out subsequently as his hooker wife got chlamydia from an unclean foreign client of hers. With in the year she did a line of hard coke and died as a result of it and her ill prepared associates.