The gray clouds twirled overhead, hiding the rest of the partially full moon. Mercutio looked up to see few stars. He walked alone, dazed, unknowing, on the lonely sidewalk. Store signs and a few lampposts were his only companions. Then something moved. The bushes on the other side of the street blew with the wind that was rising up. As he came closer to the center on the business district where the buildings came closer together, he came across a few couples out for a nightly stroll. Each wearing dark blues or browns they glanced at him with accusing looks. As he looked down he saw clothing he didn’t even thought he owned anymore. He was wearing a red, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of thoroughly baggy tan pants. As the passersby left sight he thought he saw a shadow move beside him, back behind the buildings, out of the light. It was illogical to become paranoid over nothing so Mercutio kept his pace. All of a sudden the power flickered and all the lights on the street went out. He saw another figure move, and another. They came closer and closer. He quickened his stride. He glanced over his shoulder and the darkness reached out for him but he fell. Mercutio tripped and fell down an open manhole. He opened his eyes and rubbing at the pain in his head, looked up to see rays of sunshine through the holes in the manhole cover. He began to climb the ladder and it broke under his weight. He tried a gate that impeded his way but it seemed only a key would admit him passage. He turned and began to walk in the only direction it seemed he could. The stench was intolerable but Mercutio bit down and forced himself to breath in the foul scent hoping his nostrils could bare it. Gradually the smell got worse and soon through the dimly lit tunnels, the light through the covers being the only source of illumination, he saw why. There were bodies lying mangled up ahead. As his mind came back to him, he realized that he recognized these people. They were the couples he’d passed the previous night. They were motionless. Mercutio approached them. A couple’s necks were broken. The others had bled to death from slit throats. He carried on; worried that he might be next. God only knew what had done that to the lovers. As he walked he began to hear voices. Whispers at first but they began to get louder as he drew deeper into the darkness that now filled the sewer. The voices grew clearer as he approached an open chamber door. The heat was enormous. They chanted, thousands of them. Thousands of beings chanted on the other side of that door. Curiosity drove him. He neared, his body sweating from every pore, both from the heat and fear of what he might find. He squeezed through the opening just large enough for his form.
The cloaked bodies began to sway. Mercutio fell back, landing on all fours, panting. He laid back, the heat exhausting him and everything went black although h e knew his eyes were open. He couldn’t hold strong much longer and his eyelids finally shut. He shook his head in a daze as his consciousness consumed him once more. He was standing in a crowd of people, wearing the same black shrouded uniforms as they did. He came to and looked onward as they all seemed to with anticipation. He saw a hooded man kneeling on a platform. The man raised a knife above his head and a hand jutted up from the platform and grabbed his wrist, pushing it away. With his empty hand he reached out and clasped the frail arm and held it down. He slammed the blade into the being. Mercutio cried out and the collective turned on him and hissed, each of them baring a set of fangs.
Mercutio awoke in a cold sweat. Sitting in his bed, he glanced at his clock. It was four twenty-seven am. He needed to go for a walk. So Mercutio got up and dressed, grabbed his backpack and left. The sun was just rising. It cast a blue aura over the city. Mercutio had never seen a city this peaceful. It was just the way he liked it, a slight breeze you could actually hear… the silence. He wandered around town and eventually ended up in front of Fiona’s, where else? He sat down on the curb across from her house and just looked forward, staring off into space. When he came out of his disillusionment he noticed the extravagant colors of the sunrise. Mercutio pulled his camera from the backpack. He loved his camera almost as much as he loved taking pictures. His grandfather had given it to him worriedly, nobody ever trusted Mercutio to do anything right, he didn’t lie or steal, what’s not to trust? It was a fragile and expensive camera with numerous attachments and magnifiers. He snapped a few shots of the clouds and the trees. Mercutio loved the beauty found in being a photographer. He never called it his hobby and it never even came to mind when he was asked of such, but when he saw some beauty worthy of his film he had to get a few shots.
Just as he’d put the lens cap on and tucked the camera safely away, the front door to Fiona’s house opened and a body emerged. It was Fiona, looking more gorgeous then all the sunrises the world had ever seen. With a quick glance toward his wrist he saw it was twenty after seven, “Hey Mercutio.” Fiona greeted him as he reached back into his bag.
“Ello luv,” He said back as he pulled the camera back out. “Mind if I get a few shots?” He asked pointing the camera at her. She shied away, hiding face behind her hands as a clock would. Gradually she began to give in. “I develop the film myself, nobody else will see them.” He reassured her. She finally broke and struck a few poses for her admirer.
“So you just have to be a gentleman and be here to walk me to school huh?” she questioned him.
“Of course, you know me, wait, I guess you don’t. Well… you get my point.” He responded. They walked to school together arguing whatever respective viewpoint that intrigued them.
The days past by this way; waking, walking, school, sleep, Fiona’s calls, sleep and waking up all over again. Mercutio hurried to History his last class today. Tonight’s the night, he thought to himself. The big party I’m going to with Fiona. Just one more class. And with that thought he nodded off. The dream came back to him, this time the gray clouds turning dark red. Lightning cracked here and there and blood rained down from the heavens. His vision swirled. He saw red glowing eyes. There was a flash as a bolt touched down and all that remained of those demonic eyes were corpses littering the street and a sword with a black diamond-shaped stone imbued into the hilt. He was roused by the teacher saying, “Mercutio, head up, eyes open.” Lanei began to giggle at him from across the room. He looked at her. “Lanei?” The teacher said, stretching the word. She snapped to attention, sitting straight up in her chair, her eyes gazing cheerfully forward and her hands folded on top of her desk. Mercutio could almost see the halo hovering over her head. When the class finished, Mercutio quickly gathered up Fiona and after taking her home, rushed to his own residence to prepare for the social gathering. He collected his clothes, setting his deodorant and cologne on top of the pile and decided he could use a quick nap before the big night. He set his alarm and hit the hay. Mercutio saw darkness, assumingly the backs of his eyelids. But as he slumbered he gained vision. Within the darkness appeared a moon, a giant full moon. It haunted his dreams. He awoke questioning what his dreams meant. Raining blood, fanged figures, corpses and a full moon. Wait, He thought and hopped toward his calendar. He checked it. Tonight’s the night before the full moon. Just like the dream. He pondered to himself, remembering all the events in the dream he’d had days before. Beginning to get paranoid, he changed his wardrobe, putting on a black button up shirt and pants and a black suit-jacket with cross cufflinks. He wished to dress nothing like he had in the vision. Still sweating, he cleaned himself up. He watched he clock, if he didn’t leave soon, he’d be late. Twenty minutes later Fiona called.
“Are you coming?” she screamed into the phone.
“I’m on my way.” he assured her.
“No you’re not, you’re still at home.” she said, her voice still raised.
“I’m just about to leave.” he corrected himself.
“Okay then.” There was now a perk in her voice, almost like a happy little girl who had just gotten her way. They said goodbye and Mercutio left for the party. Mercutio walked the dark streets. Quickening his pace between the lamp-posts he used to read the piece of paper with the directions Fiona had given him. He past an elementary school, one of the three in town. Trash cans rattled in an alleyway, some kids were playing with fire a couple houses down. A bum lay sleeping under a few newspapers. He came to the bridge on the map, still looking around, alarmed by his surroundings. He could see the moon through the trees. The end of the directions rushed him. He looked around not seeing a house that matched the description. He glanced in the big window of the house which had been directly behind him. A lovely young girl with a blonde ponytail, a couple of years younger than he, sat with a boy looking nearly and adult and a middle aged woman playing a board game. It seemed a perfect family. A father figure appeared above the girl and his mouth moved. She stood and they began to argue. It lasted a few minutes and then the girl fell back in a chair and put her hands to her face, obviously defeated. The father continued to yell, the words almost clear to Mercutio across the street. The old man finally stormed out of view. The girl risked a glance up and saw Mercutio sitting, looking back at her. He could see her light gray eyes. They looked lie they were struggling, fighting to keep something in. the tears welled up again and she ran down the hall and slammed a door. Mercutio felt for the girl and sat thinking a moment or two. He then reached into his pocket and retrieved his directions once again. He slapped his forehead in realization that he’d taken a wrong turn two blocks back. He glanced once more at the window and resumed his walk once more. He’d gotten a block when he heard a noise coming from a boxcar sitting on the tracks near by. Remembering his paranoia, he told himself it was just another homeless person knocking something over as they tossed in their sleep. As he turned a man emerged, now out of Mercutio line of vision. His hair was shaggy but his clothes were too expensive for him to be a low-classed person. His eyes were dark. He looked toward the lone boy who wore a dark suit with crosses on it. He could almost smell the fear and he grinned. The man pursued Mercutio quickly. Mercutio felt as if he were being watched. He looked back to see a man turning on the block behind him. He wondered where all the cars were. What, nobody drives at night? He turned and began to read the instructions once last time. Halfway down the block where the alleyway intersected the road, he prepared to cross the street. He could see the house now. A hand clasped over his mouth and started to pull him backward. The door to the house opened, he could hear the party noises within. Fiona emerged. Both he and his captor could see her. “Where is Mercutio?” she asked herself, starting to look around. Mercutio struggled against the arm which began to drag him back again. He yelled through the closed fingers over his lips but Fiona couldn’t hear it. Finally with one last attempt he flailed out and kicked a trash can over. Garbage spilled out into the street. Fiona looked over, studying her surroundings. “Stupid cat.” She said and walked back into the house. Mercutio, still struggling, fought with his thoughts. I’m a goner. Don’t give up. I’m done for. Not while I have strength left. What does he want? Mercutio was thrown to the ground and held down as he batted at the creature hidden in shadow. His fingers slid between the boards of a crate, he gripped it and bashed it against his oppressor. It shattered to pieces seeming to do no damage what so ever. A hand grabbed him by the neck and lifted him off the ground at full arms length. Mercutio did the only thing he could, he kicked the thing in the kidney. As it cradled its wound, it put Mercutio in a half-Nelson and rammed its own forehead into the back of Mercutio’s skull, which sent him into a swirl of vision and thought. Mercutio felt a stinging in the side of his neck as if he’d been stuck with tiny needles and they were drawing the energy from his body. His whole body throbbed, his veins pulsed, his limbs went numb, and he finally fell unconscious.
Mercutio awoke in a sewer; the smell burned his nostrils so he slowed his breathing so much he wasn’t sure he could still feel it. Surprisingly even with the low lighting he could see fairly well. The sunlight shown above ground as Mercutio passed under each manhole, remembering the details from his dream. He again came to that chamber he knew oh so well. It petrified him. He turned around thinking, Where are the bodies? He could hear the chanting and he hesitated to enter, the fanged figures sprung into his minds eye, hissing and clawing at him. He could feel the heat, it past over him and cool air seemed to fasten itself to his form. He thought of the girl again, the poor soul being denied of life. She whom ever she is, does not deserve to die. The door was closed more than he remembered. As he bit down and bore with the hot metal searing his flesh, he flexed his hands and reached out to push against it. He pushed with all his weight and the door slid open a bit more. Steam rose from his hands though there wasn’t a wound but his chest would be horribly scarred. Mercutio appeared on a balcony, the room was massive below him. Its vast expanse was so great that the far reaches were dark between the candles in each of the four corners. The room could easily hold thousands, maybe even tens of thousands. The shadows cast about the room made it hard for him to tell just how many figures stood chanting. Even his presence didn’t cause the hooded forms near him to stray from their meditated trances. The candles created an illuminated square in the room that shown over the cat-like eyes of the cast in this horrible play. A single candle stood alone, slightly off center in the room, allowing space for the altar. Upon the altar knelt a man, knife at his side. A woman lay bound in white garment, helplessly struggling against her restraints. A veil covered her face. The chanting grew louder; Mercutio knew not what to do. His body tensed, the adrenaline coursing through him, his fear of mortality rising. The man gripped the knife in one hand and raised it above his head. He said a few words in a French-like language as the veil blew off the prisoners face and Mercutio acknowledged who she was. It was Fiona he screamed with rage in the depths of his soul and leapt over the balcony railing. He plowed through the executioner, knocking him on his back. A thought came to his mind as he beat at the would be killer. Why didn’t that hurt? He pushed it away; there was no time for thinking. His fingers linked, he dropped his fist again and again into the man's face, hearing bone crack. When his rage began to lessen, he gathered the up the knife and started to cut Fiona free. Only one word escaped her mouth, “Mercutio?” they were upon them. At all sides the pair was bombarded. They were dragged down and pulled to the ground. Fists pounded at Mercutio’s face, he tried to beat them away but they were too many. He turned his head and to his relief, Fiona received less torture. Just before all went black he saw them sink their teeth in. God I pray thee, let Fiona live. Fiona live, damn it don’t leave me, don’t die. Please don’t die.
Mercutio opened his eyes and looked around. His prison was a small shack with a single window and only the main door. An open doorway led into the other room. There were dark draperies over the window and trash littered the floor. He made no sounds or sudden movements, hoping that no one had seen him awaken. He saw sleeping quarters for maybe a dozen people in the corners of the building and a thought forced itself into Mercutio’s consciousness. Fiona, oh God. He rolled his eyes from one side to the other, scanning the room for any sign of her whereabouts. He rolled himself, mumbling in a low moan, trying to mimic the movements of someone sleeping. Fiona lay next to him and he whispered to her, “Fiona. Fiona are you okay? Fiona wake up.” He shook her slightly.
She put her arms around him with her eyes still closed and said, “Mercutio. Mercutio are you there? Are we safe?”
“We will be, I promise.”
“Hey!” Came a yell from across the room, and a man rushed at them. He grabbed Mercutio, still on the ground, by the shirt and threw his head back against the wall so hard Mercutio thought he’d get whiplash. Suddenly the man flew into the opposite wall creating a massive hole. A man stood as a shadow. Mercutio could make out the folds in his cloak and the brim of his hat. The man clasped Mercutio’s shoulder and in that instant Mercutio saw the light dance across his eyes. They sparkled supernaturally. The man then rushed into battle with those now awake to oppose him. He fought with great skill. His blade clashed in the dim light. When the ragged creatures fell he turned to the door and opened it letting in the full sun. He turned to look at Mercutio one last time and the same light streaked across his eye giving off that golden glint just as before. After the strange man had left, Mercutio gathered Fiona in his arms and rushed her to the safest place he knew, the school.