The Adventures of Tintin: Rubens Secret Journals

There are three small journals, that the artist Peter Paul Ruben kept at his stay in Spain. It's said that in the journals he wrote left a clue to a lost civilization in Spain. British journalist, Clara Joyce, comes to Belgium to investigate the matter. It's said that an anonymous criminal is after the clues, and is stealing the journals hidden in the paintings. While investigating, she runs into a Belgian journalist, Tintin and his white terrier Snowy. They are both investigating the matter, and decide to team up. Question is, will the society beat them to it?


1. Chapter 1

"When I heard 'Belgium', I thought I'd be investigating the matter of some famous chocolate being stolen. But I did not expect this" I mumble to myself. I hear clicking sounds as I picked the lock to the museum. The final one I heard was loud, so I knew I could go in. When I was inside, there was no sign of a security guard, so I turned on my torch and made my way to the Rubens Room. My 6 inch heels clacked on the floor, so I moved very slowly, taking each step carefully.

I wore a formal pink dress just 2 inches past my knees, with red heels. I had my long dark brown hair in a formal side bun, and a lot of makeup surrounding my blue eyes. I debated whether or not I should take them off, but it seemed like there was no one around me, so I kept them on. Also, the fact that if my shoes were found, this was the last thing I was going to do as a free person. I just came here from a formal party, that I may or may not have snuck into.

I came here, to Brussels, from England to investigate the matter of someone stealing a painting from the Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium. So, yes, not chocolate being stolen. Apparently, there is a big legend behind it and it leads to a lost civilization. When I heard (well, overheard) that an anonymous criminal was going to steal the self portrait of Peter Paul Rubens tonight, I ran straight out. I came here to see if the painting is still here.

I walked up a massive set of stairs, with a red carpet, and banister decorated with different swirl designs. When I make it up I turn left and walked into a the massive red room, with the light of my torch guiding my way. I looked around, and came to a startling discovery. The self portrait was gone.

"Damn! I'm too late!" I mumbled under my breath.

But I decide to look around for any clues, anything the thief left behind. I shine my torch on the wall where the painting was and found the mark of a hand. They were spread out and big, like a man, but the finger print was small like a woman's.

"This anonymous thief is good," I mumbled, "I can't even tell the bloody gender of him or her!"

I also shined my torch into the hall and saw a book. I was about to pick it up until the sound of footsteps coming into the room, made me woorl around. My body shivers, and I freeze. I quickly shut off my torch but drop it in the process.

"Ach, damn it!" I whisper-shout to myself.

I hear footprints running into the room, with the bark of a dog.

"Put your hands up!" A boy yelled with a Belgian accent. I saw the figure of the boy, at the far end of the room. I try slowly moving, as he looks down at his dog. I made it halfway across the room, and was about to sprint into a mad dash until he caught me. The soft clack of my shoes made him woorl around and fire his handgun. I ducked, and tripped, then got up and the boy was standing right in front of me holding his gun to my forehead.

He shined his torch on my face and I was able to see his features. He was my age, had ginger hair with a quiff, blue eyes, and had the face of a bloody 5 year old. He wore a blue sweater with a white button up shirt underneath, a brown coat, short brown pants, and dark long socks and brown dress shoes.

"I didn't steal the painting, I came here to investigate." I say.

"Ha, do you think I'm that stupid?" He says.

"I don't know, right now I'm trying to tell if your my age, or a bloody 5 year old." I snap.

He pushes the gun deeper into my head, his dog next to him snarling.

"I came here to investigate, I'm a journalist! I didn't come to steal the painting! You know what? You tell me, if I stole the painting, where is it?" I ask.

He looks up and down at me, as if he studying me.

"If you don't believe me," I start, "then go ahead! Search me! Look under my dress and see if the painting is there!"

He keeps the gun at my head "I'm not going to search you, because you don't have it."

I sighed in relief, "thank you."

"You gave it to someone else, someone who works for you!" He yelled.

"Oh, go get your head checked out!" I snap, "did you hear any running footsteps? Any cars starting?"

He puts away his gun and punches me in the face.

"Tell me where the painting is!" He yelled.

I move backward a little. Okay, now I was angry. I punched the boy in the face, took off my shoe, and kicked him in the chest. Hey, I wanted to beat him up, not murder him.

"I don't have it! I'm not the thief!" I yell.

I put my shoe back on and was about to run out, but he lunged at me knocking me to the ground. I turn my head as he punches me so hard I felt my head spin and blood trickle down my cheek. I take my foot, and hurl him off, smashing him to the ground. He stood up, and was about to lunge, until we heard a security guard coming and yelling "Oi! Who's out there?!"

The boy and I exchange a glance, and take off running. I was farther ahead than the boy, running in the heels that gave me brand new blisters. I race down the stairs, the boy is still up and hadn't reached the stairs yet. I heard the security guard behind me, but I kept running. I dodged at least three of his bullets until one of them hits my shoe, and breaks my heel.

"Ach!" I yell as I trip and fall down the cold, hard stairs. I feel my head and body go down at lightning speed, pain with every stair I hit. When I made it to the bottom, my head bashed into a column connected to the stair. I could certainly tell I was dizzy, my vision blurred as I tried to stand up. The good news was that there was no blood, the bad news the boy was still chasing after me. I take every ounce of strength I have, take off my shoes and dash out the door.

When I make it outside, I run down the sidewalk. I turn around to see the boy and his dog running toward me yelling "Are you alright?!"

I ignored him and continued running. I found myself stumble upon an alleyway and meet at a wall. Just brilliant, I have run into a wall. With every once of strength I have I try to climb it. Until my vision had gotten so blurry, and my body fallen weak, I fell. But I felt someone catch me. It was the boy.

"What?" I asked, rubbing the back of my head with my hand, "came down to help me then shoot me?"

"No" he says putting me down, "I only came to help you. It must have hurt falling down those stairs."

"It hurt alright" I respond, "how did you escape the security guard?"

"I knocked him out" the boy says.

"Of course" I mumbled.

He laughs and looks at me, "I'm Tintin by the way. And that's Snowy." He says pointing at his dog then holding out his hand.

"So you try to kill me, then help me, and then just assume I don't have the painting, then introduce yourself and dog?! Are you mad?!" I snap.

"Yes, I am. And you were right, you don't have the painting. There's no evidence or anything" Says Tintin.

I hesitate a moment, but if he believes me then I doubt he would try to hurt me. Still, I had many doubts.

"I'm Clara Joyce" I say, shaking his hand.

"Should I call you Clara, or Joyce?" He asks.

"Which ever one you want" I respond.

"Alright then, Clara, where did you hear about the painting being stolen?" He asks.

"I heard that the painting was going to be stolen at a formal party I snuck into, and came to see if it was still there. It wasn't and I looked around for clues, then you lot showed up" I say, looking and Tintin and Snowy.

"Well, it sure explains why you're dressed like that" Tintin says, "I doubt you'd sneak into a museum with a formal dress and high heels."

I laugh, "you're right. What brought you to the museum, and don't tell me you were just 'taking a stroll'."

He chuckles, "no, I came to investigate as well. When I heard something in the Rubens Room I thought I caught the thief. Sorry about that, and for punching you."

"No, it's fine. Just never do that again, or I'll kick your arse" I say.

Tintin laughs but I give him a cold stare. He backed up a bit, and gave him a look of annoyance. I debated on whether or not to slap him. I continue, "where did you find out about the thief?"

"I may or may not have snuck into the party as well..." Tintin trailed off.

"Oh, no way," I exclaimed, "where were you?"

"I was across the room, and when I found out, I came to the museum" Tintin replies.

"Wait, hang on, are you the Tintin that discovered the secret of the Unicorn?" I ask.

"Yes, how did you know?" He asked.

"I read it in an older newspaper, quite incredible. Your very popular around here, aren't you?"

"Thanks and yes I am," he says, "what do you journal about?"

"Um, well, anything with thieves, criminals, murders, ect. I haven't really solved any major mysteries yet, but I would like to" I explain.

I feel an extremely cold breeze pass by and I shiver. I then realize that I have no shoes, which makes me even colder. I rub my arms with my hands, and Tintin looks at me.

"What?" I ask.

"Want a ride? I think we should discuss this further" He asks raising his eyebrow and cracking a smile.

I stare at Tintin and Snowy for a minute, "Can I trust you?" I find myself asking.

"What do you think I'm going to do? Murder you and toss your body out of the car?" Tintin asks jokingly.

"You tried to shoot me back there, so I don't know what to believe! I could die at the hands of your dog for all I know!" I say.

Tintin laughs, "you won't be hurt or murdered I promise."

"Yeah, well-" I was then interrupted by Tintin.

"Oh, no" Says Tintin.

"What?" I ask.

"I hear the police coming, and I think we should run." Tintin says.

"Wait hang on, I remember seeing something at the museum next to the wall" I say.

"What?" Tintin asks as we begin to run.

"It was a book of some sorts, it could help us!" I say.

"Well, then," he says, "let's go get it shall we?"

We ran out of the ally way and back to the museum. We quickly made our way up the stairs, passing the unconscious guard. I made my way over to the painting, and found the journal. I picked it up and ran over to Tintin.

"I found-" I was then interrupted by the police coming into the museum.

"We better get out before we get caught" whispers Tintin.

"I agree, now let's run, that way!" I whisper pointing to the right.

We ducked and ran in the opposite direction of the police. When the police went into another room, Tintin and I raced down the stairs. We ran straight out of the museum, and up the street to Tintin's car. It was a green 1936 Ford. I hesitate, but my instincts tell me he's trustworthy. He smiles and gives me a look. I slip into the passengers seat, (and prayed I wouldn't regret this decision), and Tintin turns on the car. He begins to drive and Snowy is sticking his head out into the wind happily. I look out the window.

"You said you found a clue besides the journal?" Tintin asks.

I turn my head around, "yes, I did. It was a handprint, spread out like a mans hand but had the fingerprints of a girl. I couldn't tell if the thief was a boy or girl."

Tintin sighs, "Okay, so we have an anonymous thief, and we don't know the persons gender. Anything else you found?"

"No, but I know the person is a very famous criminal. I've actually tried to hunt him or her down once. Didn't turn out so well" I say.

"What do you mean?" Tintin asks.

"Well, let's just say the saying 'run for your life' was taken literally then" I said.

"That person tried to kill you?!" He exclaimed.

"Not the person, the persons minions," I explain, "some of those minions of him or her, have actually been killing some people."

"I know I've heard," says Tintin, "do you know anything about them?"

"I know one was almost captured, a man who murdered 2 women to get to the painting. They found out he was part of some society... The Society of Thieves" I explain.

"You know I think I read something about that. At Marlenspike, I was looking at some files, I found something under 'Society of Thieves'" Says Tintin.

I could feel excitement building up in him. A smile cracked on his face.

"Do you mind if we go back to Marlenspike Hall, and take a closer look at that file and the journal?" Tintin asks.

"Oh, um... Sure, okay" I say, completely dumbfounded.

I had only met this boy a while ago and now I'm in his car. What sort of madman is he?! But more importantly, had I gone completely mad? I knew I could trust him, it's just he was too odd of a character. I wanted to find out more about this society and the journals. I'm pretty sure all of my friends and family would scold me and call me mad for this.

I don't know what to think at this point, but this evening was beyond odd. We drive for a while, until we come to a huge mansion that looked more like a castle than a house. I get out of the car, and look at the building in awe. Tintin comes over next me and says "Welcome to Marlenspike Hall."

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