The Thief - Part 5

Something I read...

 Now, maybe my fear hit critical-mass, maybe my survival instincts began to kick in, or maybe I am indeed just a bastard, but after he told me this, I began to think in a logical – sadistic – but logical way.        I was still scared, but my logical thoughts were telling me I was in no position to get myself out of this, if the ever-burning feeling on my chest coming from the beads was as immovable as they felt.
And with that being the case, I thought I’d better get the ground rules for this set-up clear. I took a deep, labored breath and began to ask priesty-boy a few questions. Four questions, to be exact.
My first question was, “What what would constitute an act of kindness?” The priest answered that it could be anything from a doctor’s treatment to a kind word.
My second question was, “Who exactly is the figure on the base of the rosary, as I’m pretty sure by now that it’s not Jesus.” The priest answered, “That, son, is your new lord. Our lord. And you would do well to hold him in reverence.
The third question I asked was, “What happens to me if I fail?” His eyes lit up with sadistic glee as he answered.
“Each of the beads on your chest are, as you by now are aware, are now embedded into your chest. They will continue to embed themselves further and further into your chest until they reach your heart, and I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what will happen when they do. Not to worry too much, my son. They will take five years to reach your heart, but for every heart you bring to me, one of the beads will drop out of the chain and out of your chest harmlessly. The chain and the symbol of our lord, however, will remain. Harmless, but forever with you. And, my son, to answer your question – if you should fail, then you will be before the lord himself and will have to answer to him. Let me warn you, my son, our lord has no time for compassion or second chances.
Well, that sure as hell cleared that up, didn’t it? For a minute or two, I stood before the priest and simply wept. Wept of the hopelessness of my situation. Cried for my fate. Hot wet tears ran down my cheeks as I thought of the fate that awaited me, should I fail in this horrid, hellish task. After that, though, I think I must have cracked. I felt hopeless, resigned to my fate, and the only thought left in my head was, “I’m sure I can make something from this.”
With this thought, I asked my last question, “So, if you just want the heart, can I have the rest? Their money, valuables, and all that?”

Old priesty-boy smiled and said, “My son, all I want is the heart. Once I have that, no one will investigate their death or even remember the wretched soul, so, by all means, take what you want.”