PROMPT 22 "HONOUR"

They say that there’s no honour amongst thieves, and as Jan sat rotting in the deepest darkest cell that the government could throw him in, he realized that they were right. “Stupid freaking thieves,” he muttered to himself as he stared at nothing in the darkness. “I’m the master mind, I’m the one who finds them the scores and cleans up after then when things go wrong and what do they do? They hand me over to the authorities first chance they get..bloody not fair if you ask me.”

“Oi!” called out a voice from the dark. “Keep it down will ya?”

“Mind your own freaking business,” Jan called back. He was in no mood for busybodies and he hated the fact that the cells were so quiet that the slightest noise could be heard from all the inmates. He was in a cell complex with at least seven other people. There was a possibility for an eighth, but that person was either dead, or just gone.

Things really weren’t going well, that was until there was the sound of an explosion. Smoke filled Jan’s cell and as he was coughing and thinking that it was the end he felt himself being dragged away. That’s when he passed out. He did eventually come round and the first thing that he noticed was the fact that he was breathing clean, fresh air. He opened his eyes and saw the toothy grins of him crew.

“What?” he muttered aloud as he tried to process what he was seeing. “You came after me?”

“Of course we did Jan,” answered his second in command. “You didn’t think that we’d leave you down there to rot, did you?”

“Well no,” he admitted as he allowed his friends to hoist him to his feet. “I just thought that there was no honour amongst thieves and all that–“

“Well you were wrong,” she assured giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “It may take us a while, but we are a honourable bunch.”

“Yeah,” Jan agreed. “That we are.”

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Filed under national novel writing month, write or die, writing prompt

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