Thing 23: You are looking down through the skylight as chefs prepare dinner for your ex-fiancé's wedding.

Originally posted to Facebook on July 2nd, 2013. There are some glaring flaws with this passage, but I like the idea I came up with.

Thing 23: You are looking down through the skylight as chefs prepare dinner for your ex-fiancé's wedding.

Avery crept slowly along the slanted rooftop, carefully testing each step before commiting his weight. The clay tiles, slick from the damp evening mist, provided little purchase, and a single misstep could spell disaster in what was to come. The occasional loose tile slowed his progress to a crawl and stress, coupled with the strain of his precision, caused sweat to bead on his forehead.

After what seemed an eternity, the steep roof tiles leveled into the main building's service plateau. Avery quickly ducked into prone on the gravel surface and hid himself at the base of one of the several decorative glass domes adorning the plateau. The domes, seen by the casual observer as a purely aesthetic addition to allow in natural light and portray the opulence of the residence, served a secondary function of allowing the estate's rooftop guards better visibiity of the interior as they patrolled, and should they require it, an access point from which to ambush intruders from above.

The Baron's sentries were in full force on such an important night.

Avery held his breath as the subtle crunch of packed gravel announced the approach of one of the guards. His hand silently sought the knife sheathed at the small of his back. His fingers curled purposefully around the cool hilt, perfectly steady as his coiled muscles prepared for the grim finality of what was to come.

Suddenly, a heavy black boot appeared from around the corner. Small stones were pushed aside, shifted by the weight of the massive man who sauntered casually in pursuit. The guard's black combat gear made for an imposing sight in the darkness of the evening, its fierceness amplified by the growing shadows. He idly cradled a dark assault rifle in his arms as he looked out upon the grounds, oblivious to the danger at his feet.

And then suddenly, he was gone.

Surprise sang through the guard's eyes as the knife in his skull caused the life therein to extinguish. Avery's gloved hand and tight embrace prevented any wisp of a sound from the dying man. In the space of a breath, it was over; another obstacle silently dispatched from the mission at hand.

It took a few moments for Avery to be sure that the guard was gone for good. Any post-mortem spasm could reveal his position, making all of his efforts for naught. He gently released the guard and let him roll onto the gravel, wiping the knife's blade on the bulletproof vest before sheathing it safely behind him. He took a deep breath in anticipation of the difficulty to come.

He carefully removed the guard's hat and placed it firmly on his head. It was a bit large, but it would have to do. He also slipped the rifle from the guard's shoulder and laid it carefully on the stones before him. In an instant, he was on one knee, tightening the laces on his shoe beside the large dome. As the other rooftop sentinel glanced casually toward his comrade, Avery stood and cradled the rifle in his arms, glancing back and offering a polite nod. The darkness was sufficient disguise, it seemed, for the guard went back to his patrol without a second thought.

Avery let out a soft sigh of relief. Only one more problem to deal with before he could make it inside. He strolled casually along the rooftop, taking subtle note of the fact that his rifle was not silenced. As he cracked his neck he gauged the distance to the other guard as 30 meters, with one of the domes acting as further impediment. He'd have to come up with a plan.

He strode idly along the rooftop for several minutes as he thought about how he could dispatch the other sentry. As he walked he noted the path the guard took, and mirrored it on his side of the roof.

Eventually he stopped, and peered out into the darkness, straining his eyes as if to seek some distant phantom. Avery brought the rifle to bear and looked through the scope, trained now on the far side of the estate. Seeing his comrade go on alert, the guard silently did the same. He did a quick sweep of the surrounding area before moving to the edge of the building and aiming his rifle toward the shadows. Unable to see the cause of the distress, he moved closer to Avery's side of the roof. Then a little closer...

In one swift motion, the guard dropped, Avery's knife piercing straight into his heart. There was a gasp as the air was forced brutally from his lungs, and then nothing. Avery casually wiped his blade on the guard's pants before returning it safely to its sheath.

He took in a breath of the crisp night air to clear his thoughts, now tinged with the slightest hint of blood, and walked over to one of the dimly-lit domes.

Below him was a flurry of activity. Staff of all sorts rushed frantically through a luxurious kitchen preparing all manner of meats and pastries for the wedding. The air wavered as the heat from a dozen large ovens filtered into the wide room. The golden skin of roasted pheasants glistened in the light of crystal chandeliers. The white aprons of chefs and their aides were stained with the fruits of their strenuous labour, billowing as their inhabitants ran back and forth to prepare the many courses of the extravagent meal to come.

The centerpiece of the kitchen, sitting on a tall cart, was a grand cake. Six tiers of pearly fondant were decorated with ruby rivers of sweet syrup and crowns of succulent strawberries.

Avery smiled to himself. She hated strawberries.

"Don't worry, Sarah," he whispered. "I'll save you."