The thief stuck his hand in through the broken window and opened the dented and scratched car door. I was walking along the street when I saw him. I ran straight towards him trying to scare him off; my fists were aloft as I tripped and fell into a pothole. It all went black…
My eyes slowly crept open. “Where am I?” I muttered faintly to a person in a medical uniform. “You are in hospital,” she said.” You were shot in the leg by a thief, so, we had to replace your leg.”
A few days later, I was discharged from hospital so I walked across the street and into a clothes shop. “I need a tight black suit,” I told the shopkeeper. After that I located the hardware store and bought a grapple hook and a long reel of rope. I was going to try and scale a skyscraper to look for the thief, but first I was going to need to make some additions to my very awkward prosthetic leg. I limped home that night, with a plan fixed in my mind; nothing could stop me now.
As I scuttled in the oak door of my red brick house, the telephone began to ring. When I picked it up and put it to my ear an unfamiliar foreign voice began to ramble about a problem with my computer. I knew he was a fake so I hung up immediately. I was tired so I ate my dinner and went to bed.
I put one foot on the pane of the thick, clear glass. I had already secured the grapple hook on the top of the building. The new special magnets that I had fitted to my prosthetic leg were going to help a lot. Now I was prepared to climb this beast of a building. I had got hold of a handy new gadget that could tell me where the thief was by using his DNA that I had found on the car he broke into.
I was halfway up when the fear began to show, the steps became more of an effort and my pace began to slow. By the time I got to the top I was exhausted. I tugged out the gadget from my utility belt and turned it on.
It began to scan. It had found him……..behind me.