//------------------------------//
// Chapter Two: Stuck in the Middle With You 
// Story: Kleptomania 
// by Divide 
//------------------------------//

Kleptomania

Chapter Two: Stuck in the Middle With You




I awoke to the sound of a hoof rapping on my cell door. I could tell that it was a hoof by the specific clonking noise it made. Hooves on Equestrian ponies were the strangest things: they were hard enough to protect the owner from the roughest surfaces, yet the underside was soft enough that they felt like silk when you touched them. Another anomaly that I have observed first hand—hah!—is their ability to manipulate hooves with enough precision to pick up simple objects.

Quite frankly, it shouldn't be possible. Then again, 'shouldn't be possible' aptly describes nearly everything that's happened to me.

I clambered out of my bed, kicking off my clingy blanket when it decided that it wanted to come see who woke me up, too. I stumbled over to the cell door and pulled the sheets that I used as blinds aside, one hand attempting to shade my eyes from the bright kerosene lamp that seemed to be hovering just outside.

"Oh, so you are still alive!" said a cheerful, feminine voice.

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. The pony in question was Umbra, my self-proclaimed protégé. Ever since our paths crossed, she'd taken up an almost godlike reverence towards me. More specifically, towards my abilities. And while she stroked my ego a good amount, teaching her the basics from the ground up hadn't been the highest on my to-do list.

She was a natural thief, though. Persistent as all hell too. Getting on her bad side was even lower on my list.

"It'll take more than an angry dragon to bring me down," I yawned half-heartedly, not really feeling the whole 'friendly banter' thing. I wasn't a morning person. Was it even morning? I consulted my watch, an eighteen-karat authentic Rolex. According to my timepiece, it was half-past one. Whether that was in the afternoon or the morning remained to be seen.

"What's got your... knickers in a bunch? Is that the right way to say it?" she asked.

That earned a chuckle from me. Slowly but surely, my colloquialisms were catching on and spreading throughout our little society.

"Yeah, that's right," I replied, blinking repeatedly in a vain attempt to regain my night vision faster. "And why do you think I'm grumpy?"

"Probably 'cause I woke up your pasty flank at one in the morning," Umbra said. I groaned. "Don't give me that! You've woke me up plenty of times in the middle of the night—now I finally get to return the favour!"

I suppose it was only fair. After all, I had been a bit of a prick when it came to Umbra's sleep schedule. Three in the morning was the best time for a pillaging jaunt. Master thieves also weren't allowed to get ten hours of beauty sleep. 

"Fair enough, padawan," I relented.

I saw her flickering shadow tilt its head in confusion. "'Padawan?'"

"Trainee. Recruit. Apprentice." I put specific emphasis on the last word.

She huffed. "Not for much longer, if I have anything to say about it!"

Utilizing the brief pause in our conversation, I looked down and realized that I was wearing only my boxers. So that was where that breeze was coming from. Evidently, I'd woken up sometime and removed my outer apparel, since I didn't remember undressing before I collapsed into bed.

"So... why am I standing here in my underwear talking to you when I could be sleeping?" I asked seriously.

"Because you look all cute and smooth without your clothes on?"

I glared at her. I must've looked extremely un-amused, because she quickly answered my question without joking.

"Well... remember that factory down on the waterfront?" Umbra rubbed her foreleg with a hoof.

I nodded, wondering where she was going with this. "What about it?"

"Well... I kinda-sorta... need your help."

I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "And why is that? If I remember correctly, your brother already took care of the planning." I tried to look around the blinding glare of the dancing flames. "What, did you lose the map? And for crying out loud, put the bloody lamp down, would you?"

The kerosene lamp bobbed and lowered to the ground. Slowly but surely, I began to make out the unicorn in front of me as my eyes adjusted. She was sitting on her haunches a few feet outside my cell door, cat-eye yellow eyes looking up at me, then flashing downward when I made eye contact.

"Well..."

"Quit saying well!"

Umbra winced like I'd slapped her. I meant to apologize, but she didn't give me the chance.

"Yeah, Lumis scouted ahead and found me a route to take. An old, unused pipe branches off from the main sewers and goes almost directly underneath the factory floor. They're doing some sort of routine maintenance on the boilers, too. Should only be a few engineers and maybe a single watchpony."

She sighed. "But that's not the part I need help with. In the Headmaster's office, where all the goods are kept, there's some sort of magical pacification resonation barrier that they just finished installing. I can't get past it."

I blinked. Several times. "'Magical pacific... reso-what barrier?'"

Umbra placed a hoof over her face and slowly dragged it downwards. "Magical pacification resonation barrier!" she exclaimed. My blank stare must've been worth a thousand words, because she simplified it for my poor, tired, un-caffeinated brain. "Magic users can't cross it," she stated, "and it's placed along the only entranceway into the Headmaster's office."

Well, sheesh! Why didn't she just say so in the first place?

"So you want me to come with and filch the stash 'cause I don't have any magic?" I deduced brilliantly, the gears in my head slowly churning and dispersing the dust that had accumulated over however many hours I had actually slept. I wasn't sure what time I had actually arrived back in the Institute.

Umbra cocked her head. "Filch?" she questioned.

"Steal."

After thinking for a moment, she nodded.

Scratching the back of my neck, I glanced behind me at the warm, cozy, and oh-so-welcoming cot. "If you need someone without magic, why don't you ask an earth pony? Mandy and Cutter are around, aren't they?"

Umbra shook her head, her short grey mane swaying with and covering one eye. She habitually brushed it aside and said, "Bolt's busy cracking a safe, and Mandy Orange is off visiting his relatives. Mandy said that they came all the way over from some little town by Canterlot, and he couldn't brush it off."

Ugh. I closed my eyes for a moment, composing myself for what was to come.

"Alright," I sighed. "I'll do it. I'll do all the heavy lifting while you sit back and watch. You'd better take notes."

"Yes!"

I swear, the squeal that came out of Umbra's mouth sounded like a schoolgirl getting asked on her first date.

"Yesyesyes! Thankyouthankyouthankyou—"

"Yeah, yeah, you're welcome and all that jazz. Now give me some damn privacy, would you?"

I saw a mischievous glint appear in her eyes. "Why can't I stay and watch?" she teased.

"Because this is national security stuff. Top secret," I quickly replied while shutting the blinds, leaving only Umbra's silhouette and the cell bars. "Now scram before I change my mind!"

Cackling softly, Umbra's form dashed away, taking the light with her, and leaving me in the dark once more. I debated crawling back into bed based on principle alone, but reluctantly dissuaded myself after I realized that would get me nothing but a heckling when I woke up. Besides, chatting had made me awake and alert, for the most part, and sleep never came quickly if I was roused in the middle of it.

Letting a soft sigh escape my lips, I began rummaging for my thieving clothes.

\\\\\

We left the Institute, Umbra and I, through perhaps one of the most clichéd exits that an organization such as ours would possess: an old manhole cover that leads to an abandoned alleyway on one Manehattan's fringe streets. I thought that it had been a joke originally, but according to the ponies, it was one of the most clever and ingenious ways to enter and exit. Funny how some things work.

The Institute, however, was no joke.

Originally used as an underground prison for the worst of the worst, the Institute was never officially acknowledged by the princesses, nor even by the city. Every question directed towards it by curious townspeople who swore that they heard sounds coming from beneath the road were deflected or downright ignored. Even investigative journalists, ponies who dug up information for a living, couldn't declare whether the Institute existed or not. Hell, they couldn't even find a name.

And thusly, the legend of the Institute was born. The place where naughty foals, cheating husbands, and petty thieves went in, but never came out.

I didn't think it was that terrifying, and I lived in it. I mean, sure, there were a few red stains here and there that wouldn't come out, along with some age-old torture equipment that gave it a very medieval feel—

On second thought...

Regardless of how spooky the place actually was, it was home, and the myths surrounding it actively prevented any curious ponies from digging their noses into places they shouldn't.

I gently slid aside the manhole—there was no way in hell that I was calling it a 'stallion-hole'—and poked my balaclava-covered head out first to make sure that no ponies were scuttling around the secret exit. When I deduced that the coast was clear, I agilely clambered up the rest of the way, Umbra following in my wake. The ladder steps leading down were much wider and far less steep than the human variety, allowing all types of ponies to use them. To me, it felt like walking up stairs designed for the elderly.

When my partner-in-crime had climbed up and out, I slid the cover pack into place, eliciting only a small noise of protest as it scraped along the cobblestone.

"Lead the way," I whispered.

Umbra nodded and began a slow jog along and out of the alleyway, her hooves muffled with black fabric. I followed her from a respectful distance away—close, but not too close. It made it more difficult for someone to tail us. We sneaked along the storefronts, most of them abandoned with their doors and window boarded up. Although we stuck to the shadows and hid from every passerby—most were drunkards stumbling around, since no respectable pony would be out at this time—we still made good time, arriving at the waterfront factory within twenty minutes of leaving.

I took a second to observe the factory. It was a large, rectangular, grey building with no windows and seemed to only have a single entrance. Metal support struts embraced each corner of the concrete mass, and all around the factory laid a spectrum of different coloured shipping crates. It was a miracle of modern magic and engineering, and under the light of day, roiling black smog would rise from the solitary smokestack.

I sighed. While I wasn't one to warrant the destruction of progress, I wouldn't be disappointed if some gang of riotous ruffians decided to sabotage the facility: Equestria could use a few more years of pollution-free air.

"Are you just going to stand there, or are we going to do this?" asked Umbra, breaking me out of my reverie.

Grinning wryly, I responded, "That's what my first girlfriend said." Now it was her turn to give me the evil eye. "I'm still waiting on you," I reminded her. "I didn't see your brother's outline."

She said something that was hardly ladylike—err, marelike—in return, and then continued on the way, with me shadowing her. We slid down an old and disused breakwater, and carefully inched our way along a small concrete pad that jutted out of the side; Umbra was my only guide, and a combination of moonlight and flickering streetlamps was our only source of light. I was forced to duck my head and scrunch my shoulders: if I stood straight up, my covered cranium would be visible to any ponies that decided to look down from the sidewalk.

We traveled thusly for much longer than I had anticipated, enough so that I was breaking a sweat, hunched over with my muscles tensed for as long I was. When we finally came to the old entrance pipe, I felt like I could've wrung my balaclava out, it was so drenched.

"Ladies first?" I panted.

Umbra rolled her eyes and climbed into the hole. Everything seemed to be going splendidly—until I heard a shriek of surprise followed by a strained grunt.

"What's wrong?"

"I think..."

Umbra's voice seemed distant and echo-y, even thought she was merely a few feet in. Her colouring made it so that I could barely make out her form amongst the dark of the pipe. I heard her gulp nervously.

"I think I'm stuck. "