I FOUND IT! Yeees! xD. Okay, so it's Breeze again. I found my freakin' favorite story ever! It was in my backpack. Which makes me feel like an idiot, but oh well.

This is actually an "inspired story" [see my profile for more info on that if you haven't]. This is just the prologue. Enjoy!

Skeal Chronicles: The Emerald Turtle

Prologue

There was a mansion on the hill of Myrtle Street. It was a big mansion, with many rooms. The mansion was home to many different people. It was Mr. and Mrs. Goldburg's pride and joy. The rent money they received from their tenants helped pay most of the bills. Every day, and almost every night, there was usually laughing and noise from the mansion on Myrtle Street. Except for the night the Emerald Turtle was stolen.

The Emerald Turtle was proudly displayed on the shelf above the fireplace. Mr. Goldburg had gotten the Emerald Turtle in a rummage sale. He had fallen in love with it, and proudly placed it on the shelf that day. It was special to the inhabitants of the mansion on Myrtle Street. Some of them called it Edward the Emerald Turtle, or Ed for short. Ed was as big as a five year-old's palm. He had three strange holes, though. They were all on his shell. One was on the top, and the other two were on its sides. Some of the tenants had asked about the holes. They looked a lot like keyholes. The Goldburgs just shrugged. They didn't really know what the holes were for, either. They just enjoyed Ed's company during the silent days. It was a sad, sad day for them after the turtle was stolen.

One of the tenants, Ike, was a witness of the robbery. He was a normal man, who was able to sleep through the nights. There was something, though, that stopped that trend on the unfortunate night.

Ike got into bed, ready to turn in for the night. It had been an exhausting day. His boss had almost fired him because he hadn't answered him correctly. That man only wanted to hear yes from all his employees. A maybe, as Ike learned, wouldn't do. After that, Ike had just barely managed to pay his rent that the Goldburgs had reminded him about. He didn't have a problem with the Goldburgs, not at all. It was the fact that he could barely pay the rent that annoyed him.

Dinner had been pleasant. Ike enjoyed the other tenants in the mansion on Myrtle Street. He had managed to strike up an interesting conversation with a neighbor beside his room, a lad from America named George, about politics and such. Ike and George enjoyed politics as much as Mrs. Goldburg's pumpkin pie, and her pie was most enjoyable. Ike had a nice ending to the day, spending a half hour in the chair in front of the fireplace with a good book.

With a sigh, Ike pulled the covers up to his chin. Time to go to sleep so he could go through another day tomorrow. He closed his eyes, a sleepy smile drifting across his face.

Yet, as he settled in, he heard something. Ike opened his eyes in curiosity. A twinkling sound was coming from downstairs. It sounded almost like…keys? It stopped, though, soon after it started. After a moment's pause, Ike closed his again…and opened them once more. There it was again, the twinkling. It was followed by the heavy thud of bootsteps downstairs. Ike lay still, listening to the heavy thud.

From what he heard, there were two people downstairs. Ike had no idea if it was simply sleepy tenants searching for the bathroom, or if it was a pair of burglars, roaming the house and looking for anything worthy of staling.

The he heard the voices. They murmured to each other. Both of them were speaking in hushed tones. They didn't sound like sleepy tenants.

In a flash, Ike had his ear to the floor in hopes of overhearing the conversation. He frustratedly clenched his fist when he could only hear mumbling. Ike silently stood up, pulled on his bathrobe, and slipped out of the room.

The hallways were silent and dark. No one ever turned on the lights in the hall at night, much to the dismay of the new tenants. The older tenants had the routes to the bathroom memorized. Ike, being one of the older tenants, moved down the hall and took a right. He went down the stairs carefully. His footsteps were barely heard. Ike was very talented in sneaking around. Unfortunately, his boss did not find it amusing. Ike learned not to sneak around his boss.

With a breath of surprise, Ike flattened himself against the wall. The men were in the living room. Ike couldn't see what was happening, but he heard the conversation.

"We're only here for the turtle," one of them hissed. There was silence, as if someone heard Ike. He held his breath.

More heavy footsteps. Without a second thought, or a moment's hesitation, Ike had fled up the stairs. He barely kept himself from slamming his door shut. Once the door was closed, Ike leaned against it, breathing hard. They were after Ed! They probably had him, and they had probably left with the Emerald Turtle of the Mansion on Myrtle Street.

Ike's thoughts turned to the next morning. The Goldburgs would be crushed by the news. Ike was sure he was the only one that knew about it.

Hands sweating, body shaking, Ike grabbed his phone from the table. With shaking fingers, he dialed a familiar number. Slowly, Ike put the phone to the side of his face.

"Hello, police?" he whispered. "You need to come to the mansion on Myrtle Street right away." He gulped. "The Emerald Turtle has been stolen."

Hoped you enjoyed that! You might not be able to figure out what it is yet, but when you think you now what this is based off, PM me to see if you're right! Please review.