[ TT ] You have a gift for talking to inanimate objects . Alongside many perks , it makes you an excellent thief ... but you only steal things that want to be stolen .

Like a shadow in the night, I slithered my way into a grand house, three stories tall with a fountain in the courtyard. *Tonight, I will finally earn enough to relieve myself from this life spent in darkness. * 
 
 I crept along the house, up to a kitchen window and lifted it open- this woman was careless, and was notorious for not hiring caretakers to help with general maintenence. I crawled inside, and immediately the sound of moans filled my ears. 
 
 `` Please... please help us.'' 
 
 There were hundreds, possibly thousands of voices begging for help, stopping me in my tracks. After a few moments, I decided to tough it out and keep going. 
 
 When I got to the main room, I saw where the voices were coming from- piles of junk and treasures mixed all together, stacked in every corner in a mountain of belongings. Dust gathered in every crevice, indicating that nothing had been cleaned in years. 
 
 A small figurine of Marilyn Monroe called to me. `` Please, sir, please get us out of here. This old lady, she's got no friends, family or assistance. She....she's a *hoarder*.'' 
 
 The entire room and even the next groaned in misery and suffering. A stack of National Geographic magazines from 1997 piped up. `` She's right, some of us have been rotting here for decades. I can feel dust *between* my pages, and bugs burrowing through me. God, please get us out of here.'' 
 
 A shrill shriek, like a banshee in childbirth, rang from upstairs. `` IF SOMEONE IS HERE TO SAVE US, PLEASE, YOU HAVE TO TAKE ME WITH YOU. THIS WOMAN HAS NO LOVER AND I'VE SEEN 40 YEARS OF USE, PLEASE SAVE ME! AT LEAST *WASH* ME!'' 
 
 *Yeah, no thank you. Fucking disgusting. I feel pretty terrible leaving it behind, but... I just ca n't. Ew. * 
 
 `` Do n't worry, guys,'' I whispered. `` I'm a thief, and I'll get you out of here. Well, some of you, at least.'' 
 
 A mix of cheers and boos echoed through my head. `` **No, you ca n't leave any of us behind, please**!'' 
 
 *I'm going to need a Uhaul, or something. I ca n't fit all this worthless shit in my rucksack. * 
 
 `` Well... I only have room for the treasures, so I'm going to take the jewelry and valuable collectibles first, and then *maybe* I'll come back for the rest of you, okay?'' 
 
 The boos were replaced with cheers, hundreds of dusty, worthless trinkets shouting with joy. 
 
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 I sat in my apartment, sorting what I'd looted from the old lady. So far, from what I'd counted, I'd stolen about $ 245,000 worth of treasure- and I was only a third of the way through sorting it all. *Not bad, if I hit a million, I can do a little drawing on the side, try to become an artist... * 
 
 The antique porcelain doll I'd taken started scolding me. `` Shame on you, sir. Shame.'' 
 
 `` You *asked* to be stolen, what'd you think I'd do with you? Play dress up?'' 
 
 `` Not that, fool. You left so many of us behind. They all suffer as you count your riches. Shame on you.'' 
 
 I put my face in my hands as the rest of my loot began to shame me in unison. 
 
 `` Fine, *fine*, I'll go get them, damn it. I'll go rent a truck or something, but I swear to God, if I do this- *all* of you will shut the hell up. Forever.'' 
 
 `` We accept these terms, human.'' 
 
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 That night, I returned to the rich lady's mansion, crawling in once more through the windows. I'd brought a truck and parked it behind the house- thankfully, this woman lives a mile in every direction, far away from the nearest human being. 
 
 I unlocked the front door and dragged a wheelbarrow in, then proceeded to pile all kind of junk and other worthless trinkets into it haphazardly. 
 
 `` Hey, careful now!'' A bag of marbles scoffed at me. 
 
 After an hour, I'd emptied the first floor and moved onto the second. I heard that loud banshee wail once more, begging for help. After piling most of the books and vases into my barrow, I peered into her bedroom- it was, quite disturbingly, *clean*. Very tidy and organized, with a studded box on the dresser that was clinking around and shouting at me. 
 
 `` RELEASE ME!'' 
 
 I hesitated before prying open the wooden box, peering inside. It smelled peculiar and awful, and I immediately slammed it shut, throwing it in with the other junk. 
 
 `` MUCH GRATITUDE SIR!'' it rattled. 
 
 On my way downstairs, a figure halted me in my tracks. My heart stopped and I felt faint- the old lady had returned a day early. She was wearing some strange, metallic, colorful garb, like an oil slick in sunlight. It was tattered and aged. 
 
 She looked at me oddly, sizing me up, before pointing at the rattling box and uttering, `` Is that my....my... *you pervert*! Get out! GET OUT!'' 
 
 I barreled forward, cart in front of me, even as she slammed her bag in my face. As I passed her, a deft, wrinkled hand plucked the box from my barrow, and a scream ensued. 
 
 `` NOOOOOOOOOO!'' 
 
 `` I'm sorry,'' I yelled into the night. `` I'm so sorry...'' 
 
 `` Sorry does n't help me!'' the old lady shouted back. `` Do n't be sorry, bring my stuff back, you twat! I spent 30 years collecting all of it!'' 
 
 *I was n't talking to you, old woman. * 
 
 A single tear streamed down my face as I fled, the sound of silent shrieking clouding my mind. 
 
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 *Thanks for reading! This was an excellent prompt. If you're bored, you can always check out /r/resonatingfury! *
