[ WP ] You are a professional pickpocket . You 've just picked someones pocket only to discover that the thing you have stolen is truly horrifying .

& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; The mark never saw it coming. This, after all, was New York City, where crowds of self-important humanity swarmed the sidewalks. This particular fellow looked like a middle-aged businessman, constantly on his iPhone, probably checking out the next subway schedule. No, that could n't be it. He followed the exact same route every day. He got on the same train every day, and every day that I watched him, he always had that same lump in his right pocket on his business coat. What was it? Although I'd gone respectable and quit my thieving days a long time ago, I longed to see what was there. Was it a ring? Was it a watch? Inquiring minds had to know. I told myself that it would be just this once... and I'd even put it back after I saw what it was. Surely it was n't theft if you put it back, right? 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I got up and sized out the target. This would be easy... he was distracted and there was a lot of people around. All the better to accidentally run into someone, you dig? I put on my best air of being distracted as he came closer, and maneuvered my way through the throngs of people to the best location that I could. As the moment came closer, I sized him up out of the corner of my eye. He was furiously swiping his fingers back and forth on the phone, as if he was trying to find something and technology was refusing to give him satisfaction. Perfect. He was distracted, so I turned around and slammed into him. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; As we fell in a heap, I snaked my hand into his coat, grabbed what felt like a box, and quickly slipped it into my coat as I hastily hollered apologies. I helped him up, dusted him off, and apologized again. He nodded understanding, waved me off and smiled. A final wave my way and he turned around and went. I smiled to myself with satisfaction. I still had the touch! A bit rusty, I thought... but passable for being out of it for some time. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I walked home, carefully snaking my way through the crowds and finally reaching my apartment building. I went to the elevator, called up my floor, and excitedly waited for the doors to open. It came, and I positively hopped into the elevator, daintily tapped the floor button, and waited for the door to close. It finally shut after an eternity. I got to my floor, jumped out, and almost flew down the hallway to my apartment that I shared with my wife. She would n't necessarily be happy, but she did n't have to know, did she? I unlocked the door and slipped inside. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Hon, I'm home!'' I hollered out. Silence. I shrugged my shoulders as her going out on an impromptu shopping trip was n't that uncommon. She'd be back in five to ten minutes. I got out the box and looked it over. It was just an ordinary blue box that one would use to hold jewelry. I sighed with disappointment, then opened it. Surprisingly, it did n't have jewelry... rather it had folded up pictures. I looked at the first one, and almost dropped it in shock. It was a picture of a beheaded body. There was blood everywhere. The next picture showed limbs that were hacked off in a most gruesome manner. I shuddered as I went through the pictures, one by gory one. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I wondered what I had gotten myself into as I finally looked at the last one. As I opened it and looked at it, I started screaming. The picture was of my wife's head.
