• Sitting in the shadows, Rogue lurked up and down the alleys of a small town. His wallet chains clanked together as his footsteps sounded against the steaming pavement. Night had just fallen and a slight rain littered the streets with tears. The only sign of life was the burning orange of the red hot cherry at the end of his cigarette. He walked with grace, magnificently through the alley then disappeared into a doorway, the orange light hitting the ground and exploding like a tiny firework before vanishing.

    Meanwhile, Claire leaned down to smell a few Roses in her garden. The sweet smell of Tulips and Daisies was all around her, but she wanted the aroma of Roses to envelop her. She picked one and rubbed it lightly on her neck, her way of a natural perfume. She had a small smile spread across her lips as she waited for her date to arrive. The doorbell rang and she skipped lightly across the house, her black collar jingling with every skip. She stopped at the door and turned to face the mirror hanging on the wall. Thankful it was there, she fixed her long black hair, hiked her short black skirt up slightly, took a deep breath, and opened the door.
    Claire called up to her mother, who was watching T.V. upstairs, letting her know that she was leaving with Rogue. As she turned to open the door, she noticed that Rogue was just staring at her. She waved the enlightened feeling and pranced outside. The two of them walked down the street, his step equaling three of hers. A quick flash of light illuminated the alley as Rogue held another orange light in his hand. They both were quiet through the maze of turns to the restaurant. As they drew nearer, a tiny, malnourished black cat ran across their path. It stopped in front of the two and looked up at them with its small, piercing red eyes. It purred, and then continued its dart across the road. Claire, being the nature-lover she was, sprinted after it and into the street, her collar ringing in place of the cat’s missing one. Rogue followed closely behind, something about its eyes gave him a bad feeling. He tossed his cigarette, another splash of orange and red jewels in the middle of the street.

    Claire chased the cat around many turns and swerves and eventually to a dead end. But the cat was no where to be seen. There were no doorways, or cracks small enough for it to squeeze through. It had just vanished. When Rogue finally caught up with her, a figure jumped down from the roofs behind him. The same red eyes that he had seen in the cat were now in this figures expression. The figure started moving forward, glints of metal were swirling around him at a quickened pace. A hummed swooshing sound echoed in the small alley. Rogue quickly turned to protect Claire, his small pocket-knife at the ready. The figure laughed and moved forwards slightly more cautiously. Within seconds, Rogues pocket knife started to elongate and grow into a mighty sword. Although this sword was well over twice as tall as he, it was light and easy to handle. The figure paused for a better look at his strategy, and then leapt from wall to wall, up-and-over Rogues head, snatching Claire into his arms on his way down.

    Rogue’s eyes turned a fiery blue, his hands turned white as he gripped his sword tightly. The figure laughed again and started to smell Claire’s Rose enveloped neck. He slid a blade to her throat and gently unfastened her collar. It slid down the front of her body and into his awaiting hands. A smile spread across his thin lips. A sudden crack sound of a whip alarmed the two men. Claire stood up straight. Brushed off her shoulders, and smiled. The figure toppled to his knees, his head sliding ever so slowly off to the side, exposing his spinal cord and tissue. Claire glared at Rogue, and then skipped towards him giggling, tucking away a small whip around her thigh. Rogue smiled and motioned for Claire’s hand. She took it gratefully and skipped out of the alleyway, practically dragging Rogue behind her as she hurried back to the restaurant. Their reservations still weren’t for another half-an-hour, but Claire’s stomach kept making noises. They sat on a bench outside as Rogue flashed his lighter and held a cigarette in his hand again. He offered her a puff and smiled sarcastically. Claire looked at him and shook her head, but took a drag anyways. He finished right as their names were called to be seated. He flicked the bud into the street, the light dimly illuminating the street for a second. A flash of red was hidden under a car, and then disappeared into the night. Only the sound of a black, malnourished cat’s purr could be heard along with his new-found collar.