(Artist's Note: Before reading on, please take a look at the forward to this series, found here: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/17443593/ written by the amazingly talented  EclairTalon )

I guess I should start from the beginning, huh? That's probably the best way to get the whole picture. I don't remember what gave me the courage to go for it, I think it had something to do with a few things some acquaintances of mine had me do for them. I got to feeling like I was untouchable...like I could do anything I wanted. So, after hearing stories about the old goat living on the hill with a treasure trove of collectibles, I decided to pay him a visit and see if there was anything I could get my hands on. Heh...if I knew then what I know now, huh?

So I went through my usual process; I waited until an odd hour of the night when no one should be awake, I slipped in the easiest way I could, and went from there. To this day, I tell myself that there was reason for that window to be as open as it was. It was almost as if the old coot was inviting burglars in. That was the trap I fell into.

I wasn't in the house for more than a few minutes before I found what I was looking for: an old, antique-looking wooden box sitting on a little mantle. If there was going to be anything good to grab, it was going to be in that box. I placed every step as carefully as I could, thanking my lucky stars that this guy didn't have some state-of-the-art home security system. I almost had my hands on the box when I heard the cocking on the shotgun.

It's hard to remember what exactly he said to me, as the shock of it made my heart beat so fast I heard it in my ears. Now, one thing you have to understand about me is that I don't like guns...I absolutely hate them. Any idiot can pull a trigger and end someone just like that. It's a cheap out, if you ask me. Anyway, I did the best I could not to make any sudden movements to spook the old guy and cause him to shoot me. All I really remember was him walking up to me, saying he knew someone who would like me. After that, he must have smacked me in the head with the butt of his gun, because that was it. I never remember leaving the living room, but obviously I did...