The Blue Thief (Working Title)

The Blue Thief (Working Title)

A Story by Elaenor Aisling

I know the beginning is lame, but read to the end...


 Elias Ward slipped out into the back alley of the Orion Coffee House. It was storming, had been all day, and he glowered at the black evening sky. He lit a cigarette and stepped back under the awning, trying to stay out of the rain. His shift was over, but he didn’t feel like going home yet. Not much of a home to return to, just a bare, sullen, apartment with neighbors who had a tendency to practice scream therapy at odd hours of the night. He took a slow drag, watching the tendrils of smoke drift from the cigarette’s embered end into the damp air. Closing his eyes, he settled back against the steel door, listening to the sound of rain on asphalt.

A small noise disrupted the rhythm of the rain, and he lazily opened his eyes, glancing around the alley. He saw nothing but the rusting dumpster, overflowing with rubbish, flanked by stacks of soggy cardboard boxes and black trash bags. He shrugged, and puffed another stream of smoke, flicking the ash from the end of the Marlboro. Probably nothing more than a feral cat. Again he heard the same sound, louder this time. It was a high-pitched whimper, and it did not sound feline. Letting curiosity conquer boredom, he took a final drag and tossed the cigarette to the ground, grinding it into the pavement with a turn of his foot. He stepped into the rain, and walked down the alley, glancing behind the heaps of bags and boxes. On the far side of the dumpster, he heard the whimpering again. He stopped abruptly, listening, and recognized human sobbing. Warily, he peered behind a large stack of boxes.

“What the hell?” He asked aloud.

A small figure was huddled against the wall of the building, weeping piteously. Through the driving rain, he discerned a woman’s shape, her knees drawn to her chest and thin white arms cradling her head. Long black hair cloaked her face and back, clinging to her body in the rain. The remnants of a red club dress were plastered to her wet skin.

“Good God, are you alright?” he asked, stepping closer. The woman only sobbed louder and shrank away from him. He slowly bent down next to her, and tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, it’s ok, I’m not gonna hurt you. I just wanna help you, ok? Are you hurt?” The woman lifted her head, and he found himself staring into striking azure eyes, bright with tears. She shook her head.

“Can you stand?” he asked. She made no move to rise, but pursed her lips in an attempt to stifle another sob. Her shoulder shuddered under his hand. “Can you stand?” he repeated slowly. She gave a small nod, and he rose, offering his hand. She took it hesitantly, and he pulled her to her feet, his other hand extended incase she started to fall. She was unsteady on her feet, and he slipped a hand about her waist to support her. She leaned heavily against him as he led her to the doorway. “Here, let me call 911,” he muttered, fishing his phone out from his coat pocket.

“No!” she shrieked. Startled, he nearly dropped his cell.

“Look, if you were assaulted or robbed,” she cut him off,

“I wasn’t! Please don’t. Please,” She begged. Her tone was heartbreaking.

“Ok, ok, no police. Is there someone else? Do you need a doctor?” She shook her head, clinging to him, her knuckles white. He tried to calm her down, offering what help he could think of, but she protested so profusely he finally gave up. “Well, look, you can’t stay here. My apartment is just up the road. Will you at least let me take you there till the storm stops?” She nodded, and he took off his coat, hanging it over her slender shoulders. She let him guide her blindly, leaning against his shoulder, clinging to his arm.


The lobby of Elias’ building was warm and dry, and the woman eased her grip on his arm little when they entered it. Dim lights flickered overhead, and he breathed in the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and rubber flooring.  He hoped with all his might no one would see them, as he knew questions would be raised as to why he was taking a sobbing, bedraggled woman up to his apartment. Fortunately the lobby was deserted. The building had no elevator, so he half dragged, half carried her up the two flights of stairs. He quickly unlocked the door and drew her inside, escorting her to the old grey couch before striding back to shut the door. There was a trail of dirty shoe-prints and water leading down the carpeted hall. Cursing under his breath, he turned back to his mysterious guest.

He quickly stepped out of his shoes and went to get a dry towel. He then eased the overcoat from her shoulders, throwing it over a chair back. She took the towel and began to dry herself off, wiping trails of black mascara from her face.

“I really don’t know how to thank you for this,” she said, her voice still shaking with emotion. He shrugged.

“You don’t have to. ”

“I don’t even know your name.” 

“I don’t know yours, either,” He gave her a half smile, and the corner of her mouth twitched.

“Adrienne,” she whispered, drying her hands. Her eyes met his expectantly.

“Elias Ward.”

A thousand questions swam in his head, but he forced himself not to ask them. Instead, he excused himself and went to change into dry clothes. It occurred to him that Adrienne would need dry clothes too, and he began rifling through his closet, trying to find something for her to wear. Against the back wall of the closet, he found a heap of Lara’s clothes she’d forgotten when she’d moved out last year. A wave of guilt swept over him. It had been a bad breakup. Pushing past aside, he grabbed sweats and a pink t-shirt, and took them to Adrienne.

She did not seem to wonder why he had women’s clothes at hand, as every detail of the place betrayed him as a bachelor, but he still felt the need to explain.

“These were Lara’s, my ex. She moved to Jersey last year. You can keep them.” She murmured a word of thanks and it took him a moment to realize he was staring at her. She was stunning. Even with hair a mess and eyes red from crying, beautiful seemed an understatement. Her ivory complexion was perfect, as were her limbs and figure. He shook his head to clear it.

“You can change in the bedroom,” he said, waving his hand towards the door across the room. She thanked him again and rose, closing the door softly behind her.


Elias plopped down on the couch, sinking into the lumpy grey cushions. His eyes focused on the dark water stain left by Adrienne’s body. He wasn’t sure what to do about her, or if he should do anything. He decided she could stay the night if she wanted to, and he would get her a cab or a bus ticket in the morning. It was in his nature to be generous, though it was a trait that had got him into predicaments in the past. Sighing, he tilted his head back, letting his eyelids droop, and the room descended into dark.

A moment later, he heard the bedroom door open and his lids lifted, the yellow light of the room flooding his eyes. Rubbing his eyes with a calloused hand he turned to Adrienne, who stood leaning against the door frame. Lara’s clothes were a size to big, the pink t-shirt hung loose, though not unflatteringly, and she had rolled the waistband of the sweats to her hips. The shirt was short, and a length of skin showed the trace of hip bones. A shiver ran down his spine.


“Hi,” she smiled a little. She walked across the room, steadier on her feet now, and seated herself on the other end of the couch. “Again, thank you, Elias. I promise I’ll leave soon, get out of your way.”

He shook his head,

“You can stay as long as you need to.” He replied, searching her eyes. They seemed to loose their troubled quality, and she visibly relaxed.

“Why are you doing this? All you know is my name. I could be a fugitive or something.”

“But you’re not, are you,” he challenged. Her eyes fell.

“No, I’m not.”

“Then why wouldn’t you let me call the cops?”

“I…” her voice faded away. “Lets just say that where I’m from, you don’t trust authority.” Her voice was low, as though she were about to cry.

“Well, will you tell me how you ended up in the alley?” he said gently. She sucked in a deep breath.

“To be honest, I don’t remember. I know that sounds like an excuse, but I truly don’t.” She was lying, but he couldn’t help but believe her.

“It’s alright. I don’t have to know.” An awkward silence fell between them for several moments. “You hungry?”

She shook her head.

“Just tired.”

He glanced at his watch. 12:03.

“You can sleep in the bedroom, if you like,” he offered.

“But what about you?”

“I don’t mind the couch.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, really. You need it more than I do.” A nagging thought scolded him for giving up his bed, he hated sleeping on the couch, and opening his home to strange women he found in alleyways? What was wrong with him?

“Thanks again.” She murmured, rising. “I’ll leave in the morning.”

He watched her walk across the room, admiring the graceful swing of her hips and a*s. She shut the door behind her, softly, and he looked away, frowning at the empty room. Sighing, he got up, locked the deadbolt and turned out the light, plunging the room into secure darkness. He fumbled back to the couch, pulling off his shirt and casting his jeans aside. He grabbed the heavy blue blanket from its place on the back of the couch. The rough wool itched, but it was cool in the apartment, and he was glad for the warmth. The overstuffed pillow was too firm, and he pounded it with his fist, trying to disperse the cotton wadding. Finally, he stretched out, lacing his fingers behind his head. He listened to the traffic in the street below- a siren sounded in the distance, somewhere near an impatient driver honked. He found the sounds familiar, comforting. As long as there were cities, they would be there. Eventually, sleep came and he drifted into unconscious.  


Elias awoke to a clammy hand gripping his shoulder. Startled he sat bolt upright, ready to strike his assailant, panic rising in his chest as a shriek echoed in his dazed mind.

“Elias!” Someone whispered. His vision cleared slightly and he saw the azure eyes, almost seeming to glow in the dark room.

“Christ, Adrienne! What’s wrong?”

“The screaming,” Came the fearful whisper.

“It’s just the neighbors upstairs. Like to get busy around 3 am. Just try to ignore them.”

But Adrienne remained frozen next to the couch, her eyes wide. Her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip, as though to keep from crying. Sighing, he rose and took her by the shoulders. “Look, there’s nothing to worry about. No one’s being hurt, or going to hurt you. Just go back to sleep. Ok?” He felt as though he were addressing a child. She made no move to go. The shrieks continued for a few more seconds before concluding with a single piercing scream. She flinched.

“Come on, its over.” He led her to the bedroom door, an arm around her shaking shoulders. Releasing her, he leaned against the door frame, the adrenaline giving way to drowsiness. But Adrienne clung to him, circling her arms around his chest.  He moved to gently push her away, but he found himself returning the embrace, and could not help but run his fingers through the black hair which cascaded around her shoulders. Eventually, her body ceased to tremble, and her grip eased. Her arms slid from his back, and he felt the coolness of her palms against his bare chest. She looked into his face, her eyes darting between his eyes and his mouth. Taking the hint, he quickly closed the few inches between their lips. Their gentle kisses intensified quickly, passion blooming within them both. Hastily, he edged her into the bedroom and kicked the door shut. 



Elias awoke late the next morning, exhausted. He’d never been so tired after love making, but he’d also never made love to a woman like Adrienne. Blinking sleep from his eyes, he squinted, trying to make out the numbers on the wall clock across from the bed. 11:32. Wide shafts of light fell across the bed from the window blinds, bathing them in the morning sun. His gaze rested on Adrienne, still asleep, her chest rising and falling with long, tranquil breaths. He smiled, sighing. It sounded cliché, but he felt as though he had known her forever, even though he knew only her name. He sank back into the pillows beside her, stroking strands of raven hair from her face. Her eyes flickered open slowly, and she gave him a small smile. He planted a kiss on her curving lips.

“Morning,” he breathed, drawing back. Yawning, she stretched lithe arms over her head and sat up, holding the crumpled sheet over her chest.

“Is it really morning already?”

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“I should go.”

Elias felt panic flutter in his chest.

            “You don’t have to.”

            “But I…”

            “Please don’t. I want you to stay.” He blurted out. He sounded like a lovesick schoolboy. Adrienne looked surprised.

            “Are you sure?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

            “Yes, very.”

            “I don’t want to be a bother.”

            “How could you ever be a bother?” he murmured, trying to draw her back to him. She unwrapped his hands from her waist.

            “Elias, please. You don’t know…”

            “I don’t care.”

            “No, really, you…”

            “I don’t care!” he insisted. “Stay with me. Please.” His tone was plaintive, pleading. She sighed, turning to him with sad eyes.

            “Alright. I’ll stay,” she relinquished. Relief swept over him.

Adrienne moved to the edge of the bed, preparing to rise and find her clothes, which were strewn about the room, hastily shed the night before. She bent down to retrieve the pink T-shirt which lay next to the bed, and her long hair fell away from her back. Elias gasped. Adrienne flinched, gripping the sheet against her chest.

            “Good God…What…?” His question hung in the air, unfinished. He could only gape, speechless, at the two ghastly scars which ran down her back. Deep gouges started just above her shoulder blades, narrowing to raised, white, scratches, their grisly trail ending mid-back. Gingerly, he brushed his fingers over one streak of white flesh. She tensed.   

            “Who did this to you?” he questioned, his voice a horrified whisper.

            “My father.”

Adrienne glanced back at him over her shoulder, strands of black hair falling over the white scars. He brushed them aside, wondering how he had not felt the scars last night.


Her eyes glistened.

            “A punishment for disobeying him.” Tears spilled onto her face, and she put up her hands to hide them, sobbing quietly. Gently, he eased her back down to the bed and gathered her small frame in his arms. She did not return the embrace, but lay rigid, her whimpers filling the silence of the room.



            Some hours later, Elias found himself still cradling Adrienne. Again his eyes sought the wall clock. 1:58. He had to be at work by 3:00. Arms aching, he carefully eased her limp body onto the disheveled sheets, trying not to wake her. He stood, but had to grab the headboard to support himself. A sudden pain shot through his head, and he turned to the wall, leaning his head into his folded arm. A small grunt of pain escaped him. It hurt to breathe. He carefully lowered himself onto the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. The pain faded quickly, but left him feeling drained. Adrienne stirred behind him, and he felt her move towards him. She embraced him, resting her chin on his shoulder.

            “Are you alright?”

            “Yeah, just got a headache all of a sudden, I’ll be fine in a minute.”

            “You sure? You look pale.”

            “I’m just tired.”

Elias felt better in Adrienne’s arms, and rested for a few breaths, the beat of her heart echoing in his ears. He exhaled loudly.

            “I gotta go to work,” he explained, standing. She sat back on the bed, looking dejected. His feet still felt unsteady, but he headed for the shower anyway. “I’ll be back later, grab yourself something to eat. And please don’t leave.” His eyes traced the lines of her kneeling body, soaking in every perfect detail. She blushed.

            “I won’t. I promise.”



Lethargically, Elias went through his shift. It felt as though a heavy hand had settled over him, slowing his movements to a crawl. His co-workers urged him to keep pace, but he found himself lagging, even when putting forth every ounce of energy he could muster. Mercifully, it was a fairly slow night, and he didn’t have to lock up.

The walk from workplace to apartment felt unbearably long. The two flights of stairs felt like twelve, and when he finally shuffled into his apartment, he immediately collapsed on the couch. He closed his eyes, inhaling the familiar smell of cigarette smoke mingled with coffee. Adrienne appeared in the kitchen doorway, a steaming mug in her hands. He managed a small smile.

“Ah, you’re still here.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go.” She sighed, striding across the room. Taking the offered mug, he took a small sip of coffee, feeling the hot liquid flow down his throat. Adrienne nestled next to him, and he could smell his shampoo on her hair.

“Will you tell me what happened to you someday?” He asked, placing an arm around her shoulders.

“Maybe…it’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

“Someday, then.”  She promised, raising her head from his shoulder. She moved to put her head in his lap, and lay looking up at him, her azure eyes bright. She reached a slender hand up, caressing his jaw. He enclosed her hand in his and brought it tenderly to his lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, placing the mug on the endtable.

She smiled in response, sitting up to kiss him. Still keeping their lips together, she straddled him, her hands cradling his face. He embraced her, returning her ardent kisses with more gentle ones, for even though he wanted her, he felt as though his energy was seeping away, to the point where his hands dropped to his sides, unable to hold her any longer. She drew back, her eyes flashing.

            “What’s the matter?” He heard anger in her voice.

            “I’m sorry, I’m just…so weak all of a sudden.”

To his surprise Adrienne smiled, a cruel smile. She threw back her head and  laughed, deep and guttural.

            “Of course.,” She chortled, “of courssssse.”

            To Elias’s horror, the beautiful face before him dissolved, flakes of ivory skin falling like ash over him the couch and the room, leaving a dark, transparent, figure. He squeezed his eyes shut, believing it to be a nightmare, but when he opened them again, he found himself staring into Adrienne’s azure eyes, only they were no longer Adrienne’s. The dark figure was faceless but for the eyes which burned into him, as bright as blue flame.

            The figure rose from his lap, towering above his paralyzed body its head reaching almost to the ceiling, wisps of smoke and flame drifted above the floor where feet should have been.  He lay speechless, to scared to move, his eyes wide. The black, blue-eyed cloud stared back at him, hovering. From somewhere he summoned the courage to speak.

            “W-what are you?” his voice was tiny, weak, barely more than a whisper.

            A rasping voice echoed from the phantom.

            “Sssuccubusss,” it hissed gleefully, “By taking your life-forccce, I can return to my rightful form. That isss why you feel ssso weak…” the creature laughed. “What foolsss you men are…ssseduccced ssso easssily…” she extended an arm towards him, wisps of black smoke curling up from her out stretched hand. Elias felt his throat tighten, as though someone were choking him, though the succubus was not touching him. He gasped, trying to find air, but there was none. The figure’s hand drew a sign in the air with her pointer finger, and then placed her palm over his heart. A quick bolt of light went from Elias’ chest to the succubus’ hand, where she clamped it in a tight fist, a thin green light glowed between the bars of her fingers. The last bit of life slipped from his limbs. With a final, fiery glance at the lifeless body before her, the demon melted away.

            Elias’ body lay empty on the old sofa, eyes frozen open in terror, and blue lips still parted, gasping for air. Quietly, his soul drifted from it’s shell, bitter at it’s exile, and vanished into the night.



© 2013 Elaenor Aisling

Author's Note

Elaenor Aisling
If anyone has suggestions for a title, I would love to hear it.

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Added on January 7, 2013
Last Updated on January 7, 2013
Tags: blue, death, soul, fallen angel, short story


Elaenor Aisling
Elaenor Aisling

Limerick, Ireland....I wish.

I am currently a student. I write mainly poetry, a few short stories here and there. I love to read and write. Favorite authors include, Victor Hugo, J.R.R. Tolkien, Tolstoy, Wilde, Alcott, C.S. Lewis.. more..