The Thief - Part 6

Something I read...

 The priest gave to me a small wooden box. The box was ebony and had a latched lock, a red velvet lining, and a plain wooden-handled knife inside. My last instructions before I left were that I was to return within four weeks with a human heart within the box. The heart had to be cut from the body with this knife and this knife alone.  Old priesty-boy assured me that once the heart was in his possession, then there would be no repercussions for the murder, and as he stated before, what I did with the human and material remains were of no interest to him.
The first one was hard. I had to keep my now counter-productive humanity in check whilst I found someone to be kind enough to me that would allow me to kill them. It took me two weeks of thinking and nerve-building to do my first.
A homeless shelter. I arrived unshaven, clothes ripped and stinking to high heaven. The man at the desk asked if I needed any help and was more than kind enough to show me to where I could bed for the night. I slept in the shelter for three nights, in the stench and the lowliness of humanity’s wretches. I hated them. Too stupid or too proud to steal, but pathetic enough to beg at some master’s table. Two days and nights I was there. That’s how long it took me to work out the desk worker’s shifts and where he parked his car. Two days to work out where he lived; I’m not bad at this.
He was an old, short man; he had such a warm and caring smile. He folded like cheap lawn furniture when I belted him with the handle of my knife. He had just unlocked his door and was halfway through the threshold when I did it. Seconds, it took, before I was inside, door closed and locked behind us. I kicked him in the jaw first; couldn’t have him making noise, now could I?
After a few boots, he passed out, and I got the box open and ready.  I cut his throat and left him to bleed out whilst I searched his house for money or something to fence. 300 pounds and a gold watch. Not bad. Now, if you think anything like me, I’m sure you are thinking two questions, and I will answer them both.
Firstly, yes, I did leave him to bleed out, so the heart would not be beating and there would be less chance of botching the removal. Clever.
Secondly, no, I didn’t think to get his ATM card and pin before I cut his throat. Stupid.

But it was only my first. I knew better for next time.