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MidReal Story
Christmas with the Bad Boy
Scenario:Female crazy burglar breaking into house during Christmas to steal presents
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Penelope
often succumbing to her dark impulses. She is restless, impulsive, and desperate. Penelope breaks into homes, seeking solace in stolen trinkets to fill the void left by her mother's abandonment. Her latest target is a house decorated for Christmas, a time she despises. Her desire for a tangible reminder of love leads her to steal a gold necklace from a young girl’s room, igniting a complex internal conflict.
Morgan
resourceful, and mysterious. Morgan partners with Penelope during a breakin, teaching her how to navigate through homes without being caught. His demeanor is cold and detached, yet he shows glimpses of humanity when he helps Penelope select a suitable gift for her ill mother. Morgan’s presence in Penelope’s life stirs both admiration and unease within her.
Snowflakes drifted, swirling around me as I crept forward.
The windows of the house were aglow with a warm, golden light.
A festive Christmas tree twinkled in the warm glow of the living room lights.
"Okay, Penelope, this is the one," Morgan said.
He crouched beside a basement window that was partially ajar.
"We'll have no problem getting in. The family's likely upstairs watching TV or something."
I gave him a sour look.
"Or celebrating Christmas Eve. Do you know how much I hate Christmas?"
Morgan stared at me.
His gaze was cold and unyielding.
His dark eyes seemed to absorb all of the dim light around us.
"You don't get paid for your feelings," he said after a moment.
"Keep your head on straight. Now come on."
He slid through the open window, disappearing into the darkness.
With a sigh, I followed.
The frigid winter air enveloped me as I slipped through the narrow opening.
My feet thumped against the concrete floor of the basement, and I looked around at the dimly lit space.
Boxes and luggage were stacked against one wall while a washer and dryer set occupied another.
A light switched on overhead, illuminating the space in harsh brightness.
Morgan frowned up at the ceiling.
"What do you think it is? A motion sensor?"
"Doesn't matter," I said impatiently.
I crept toward the stairs that led up from the basement, my boots making barely a sound on the smooth concrete floor.
Morgan held a hand out, gesturing for me to wait.
He inspected the wooden steps before him.
The sounds of Christmas music floated down from above, mingling with the faint scent of pine and peppermint wafting through the air.
I glanced around, my eyes settling on a stack of presents nestled beneath the stairs.
Colorful wrapping paper and bows seemed to glow in the dim light.
Easy pickings.
Morgan shot me a warning look, but I ignored him.
I reached out, sliding a large box into my bag.
A sharp twang echoed through the basement, followed by the clatter of falling tinsel and a cascade of marbles rolling across the floor.
A tripwire glinted in the bright light, stretching across the space between the stairs and wall.
Morgan cursed under his breath.
"Penelope, you idiot!" he hissed, grabbing my arm.
"We've got to get out of here before they come down."
But before we could move, a voice called from the top of the stairs, "Who's there?"
I froze.
Morgan yanked me behind a stack of boxes, his grip on my arm like a vice.
Heavy footsteps creaked above us, growing louder as they made their way down the stairs.
I looked around frantically, spotting a narrow path through the scattered marbles.
I took a step forward, but Morgan hissed at me to stay still.
The basement door groaned open, and a flashlight beam swept across the room.
The light caught glints off of the tinsel that had fallen from the ceiling, sending tiny shards of light dancing around us.
I held my breath as the beam passed mere inches from our hiding spot.
Morgan slowly reached for his wire cutters, but his elbow knocked against a precariously balanced box.
"Who's there?" the voice repeated, more insistent this time.
Morgan's eyes met mine, and he whispered urgently, "We need a distraction, now."
I nodded, my mind racing, and called out in a shaky voice, "It's just me, Santa's helper!"
The footsteps paused on the last step, the beam of the flashlight casting eerie shadows across the basement.
I could see it hovering just beyond the edge of the stack of boxes that hid us.
If it swept just a fraction to the right, it would catch us in its beam.
My heart pounded in my chest.
"Um," I said loudly, "I'm... I'm one of Santa's helpers. I came to fix something."
A pause.
"Santa's helper?"
The voice was confused.
"Fix what?"
Morgan's fingers dug deeper into my arm, and I could see his face twisted in a silent snarl.
I had never been good at thinking on my feet, and now my impulsive outburst had put us in an even tighter spot.
The flashlight beam continued to dance around the edges of our hiding spot, and then it landed on us.
I squinted against the harsh light as it illuminated our crouched forms behind the stack of boxes.
A middle-aged man in flannel pajamas stood frozen at the bottom of the stairs, staring at us in shock.
His hand trembled on the flashlight while his other reached for his phone in his pocket.
Morgan lunged forward, knocking the flashlight from his grip and plunging us back into darkness.
The man's voice came from above us, and I could hear him shoving his way through the stack of boxes that hid us.
Morgan shoved past me, heading for the basement window.
The homeowner's voice echoed around the room, speaking into his phone.
"911? I have intruders in my basement."
My heart pounded in my ears.
I could feel Morgan's breath on my neck as he shoved past me, heading for the window.
The man's voice continued to speak, his words muffled by the distance.
"Two. One male, one female. The male has a black hoodie. The female has a red coat. They're trying to steal my presents."
A burst of adrenaline surged through me.
I scrambled to follow Morgan, but the man's words had been like a cold splash of water.
I stumbled in the darkness, tripping over one of the marbles that had rolled across the floor.
Morgan hissed at me to hurry while I fumbled through the dark, using the faint light from my phone to guide me around the scattered marbles.
The basement window seemed miles away, and I could feel it slipping further and further out of reach with each passing second.
The music still played mockingly upstairs, mingling with the heavy footsteps pacing above us. Suddenly, sirens pierced the silent night outside.
Morgan was already at the window, scrambling to shove it open.
I could see his silhouette against the moonlit sky, and I followed as fast as my stumbling feet would carry me.
The man's voice continued to speak, giving directions to the 911 dispatch.
His words echoed through the basement, bouncing off of the walls as he described us.
He must have made his way back upstairs, and I could hear his heavy footsteps pacing above us.
Morgan shoved the window open further, and a rush of cold air swept through the basement.
He began to climb out, but then he froze, staring at something outside.
The red and blue lights from the police cars cast a kaleidoscope of color across the basement windows, illuminating Morgan's crouched form.
My heart pounded in my ears.
Morgan dropped back down inside, pulling me down beside him.
"Police," he hissed.
I could hear footsteps crunching in the snow outside our hiding spot, but then more thundered down the basement stairs behind us.
"They're here!"
The man's voice came from the top of the stairs. Flashlight beams cut through the darkness from both sides of us.
Morgan raised his hands slowly, and I followed suit.
