"Rice, carrots, shrimp, broccoli.. that should be it for tonight's dinner." Kaz mumbled as she walked to the cash register with the ingredients to tonight's dinner in her basket. After this, I gotta go home and make dinner, finish homework and- The small T.V. in the grocery shop stopped her train of thought.

"Good afternoon, this is Megan Meade and I'm here with today's most shocking news." 

What? Did another celebrity die?  

"Rumors of the Undead have been circulating, and there have been several sightings. Disfigured beings have been seen around various secronom corps."

Great. GREAT. Just wonderful. I have enough on my hands as it is. Work, school, paying the bills and debt that mom and dad owe. Now what, should I go out and buy weapons and stack up on food for this? Geeze.

"Miss? Miss?" Kaz heard as she finished rambling on in her head.  

"Oh. Sorry, could you repeat what you said?" Kaz asked the cashier. 

"This isn't enough. The total is $25, not $20." the cashier told her in a pitiful voice.

Crap. This is all I have on me at the moment. Ahh, what to do, what to do. Maybe I could- 

Her thoughts were stopped by a husky voice.  

Drago entered the grocery shop and made his way to the cereal aisle with determination. He was running dangerously low on his stocks due to his friends' large appetites, and it was time for him to restock.

Pushing the shopping cart before him he grabbed his favourite cereals and threw them into the cart. Drago grinned sloppily at no one in particular, feeling ecstatic now that he had his favourite breakfast meal, or any other meal for that matter.

Humming a jaunty tune and flashing a smile at anyone who glanced his way, he stopped by the floral stands. His mother was currently in the hospital, having contracted pancreatic cancer. Although it pained him in the heart to think of how much his mother was struggling, he couldn't help but feel awed at how brave she was. He went to visit her everyday without fail, and bought her bouquets of flowers to brighten up the sterile hospital rooms.

Drago picked up a dozen red roses wrapped in large ribbons. Cradling the flowers in the crook of his arm and pushing the cart with his free hand, he slowly made his way to the cashiers, taking care not to bump into unsuspecting shoppers. He bounced up and down on his heels as he waited in line, shooting discreet glances at the pretty girl before him. Her long inky locks looked soft as silk, and he had an urge to brush his fingers through her hair.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he ran possible football plays through his mind. When his attention decided it had better things to focus on—namely that pretty, pretty girl—he glanced up at the TV for news to distract him.

“Rumors of the undead have been circulating, and there have been several sightings. Disfigured beings have been seen around various Secronom corps. Is it an elaborate hoax, or humanity's very worst nightmare?” Drago blinked, a grin appearing on his face. He couldn't help but feel giddy at the prospect of fighting for his life against horde after horde of the undead. His grin faltered when he realized it was most likely a hoax.

He snapped out of his reverie by cashier's voice.

“Miss? Miss?” The cashier called for the girl, whose attention was also focused upon the day's news.

“Oh. Sorry, could you repeat what you said?” Her soft voice matched her appearance perfectly, and Drago vaguely wondered what she would sound like singing.

“This isn't enough. The total is $25, not $20.” Pity laced the cashier's voice, and he saw panic flash through the girl's eyes.

Wah! Here's my chance! He pulled a five dollar bill from his back pocket and handed it to the girl. Not wanting to offend the her, he said, “Hey. I think you dropped this.”

Drago Wheeler

 “Oh...Uhm, thanks.” Drago's heart fluttered in an unsettling way at her words and breathtaking smile.

“It's not a problem,” Drago said smiling widely. Today was definitely shaping up to be an amazing day. “No problem at all. I like helping others.”

He paid for his cereal, slightly upset that he would most likely never see this girl again. He sighed. It couldn't be helped. He was never one for a relationship; he took things too seriously and had high hopes that were usually crushed. Besides, it's not like he liked her. After all, he only just met her. He just thought she was pretty, that's all. They probably wouldn't get along, anyways. He tended to be awkward around girls.

Two bags of cereal in one hand and a bouquet of roses in another, Drago made a beeline for the exit. He turned around when he heard that familiar lilting voice. He raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

“Hey!” The girl ran towards him, black hair flowing behind her. “I wanted to thank you for before. I'd like to repay you in some way, but as you can see, I don't have any money on me at the moment.” A pale pink lightly dusted her milky complexion, and Drago couldn't help but flash her a lop-sided grin. Judging by her nonchalant voice, he could tell she was trying not to appear flustered.

“You don't need to repay me,” he a.ssured. Her mouth opened in protest, and he quickly cut her off. “But it'd be nice if we could get to know each other...” He trailed off, mauling the words that slipped from his lips. He was pretty open with his feelings, but even he had to admit that he was being blunt. “I mean, not like that—I'm not like other guys, if that's what you're thinking. I just think you're kinda cool, you know? And it'd be nice if we hung out. And uh...yeah. That's pretty much it.” Well that sounded idiotic.

He winced at how illiterate he sounded. A part of him was desperately hoping she would accept his invitation, and the other part wish she would turn him down so he wouldn't have to make a fool of himself. He looked expectantly at her.

 Long hazel hair bounced on her shoulders as Aurelie stretched. The bell rang, signaling the end of her cl*censored*es and students around her began hastily packing their items. She was no different than her peers, for today, she was going to visit the boarding house owned by her parents to collect rent. An ordinary person would wonder why a prestigious student such as Aurelie enjoyed performing such a tedious task; However, she quite enjoyed it. She was fond with all of the residents and often had a chat with all of them before collecting their rent. There was one person, however, whom she was almost nervous to approach. He was a mysterious boy, wearing a jester mask and living in solitude in one of the building's smallest rooms. While her brain screamed at her to stay away from him, she was curious about the boy. Although she knew she shouldn't pry, she wanted to know about his past, where he came from and how he came to be living alone, or why he would always be wearing a jester mask. She had decided that today would be the day where she would try to make a conversation with him, instead of just plain asking him for the rent. Oh yes, she was terrified and nervous, but strangely excited. But first, she had to pick up her friend, Azi, from his work. She needed the moral support, of course.

It didn't take long for Aurelie to rush out of her cl*censored*room, ignoring the calls of some of her peers. Of course, she wasn't running, just speed walking. She ignored the stares ofher peers, intent on making it to her locker in record time. She never used her locker on a daily basis, unless she needed to store her coat. It was practically empty. Today, however, was a special day. She only needed the single item in small top compartment. It was a small box of food she had prepared; her specialty of lobster pasta salad, a unique yet delicious recipe. She hoped that with this gift, the boy would open up to her. One could call it an offering, almost.

She reached her locker and began to twist the code in, having some troubles since she barely used it.

"So Kaz didn't show up again today, did she?"

Her ears perked at the mention of the name. Kaz was one of the only scholarship students in the academy and was also her cl*censored*mate; However there were more than a few days where she didn't attend cl*censored*. Many girls used her as a topic of gossip, for she was different from everyone else, especially with her looks. While most of the girls at the academy were dressed in brand name clothing, Kaz looked as if she was ready for battle. Aurelie could sympathize in terms of clothing, for most of her peers frowned upon the way she dressed as well. It wasn't her fault she had an interest in lolitia clothing, after all, it's just the way she was made.

"As if she ever comes anyways. She probably `influenced` one of the teachers for her marks and entrance to this school."

"Oh please, it's obvious she made it into our school that way. I mean, who could make it into our school receiving a low-cl*censored* education?" 

Aurelie's eyes narrowed, for she knew Kaz wasn't one to bribe the teachers. She knew that in reality, Kaz was a very smart and diligent person. The only reason why she got the marks she did was because she worked hard and studied whenever she had the time. She turned around to tell the girls off but stopped abruptly when another girl ran up to them.

"Oh my god, guys! Have you heard the news? There's apparently a zombie outbreak!"

Aurelie blinked in surprise. A zombie outbreak? In this era? Oh it was possible, but not probable.

"Oh, please, you really believe that? It's obviously a fraud that the news is pulling just to scare us."

"You think so? It seems so real though. Some people have told me they had to run away from the undead too!"

"Even if it IS real, come on. We're rich. They can't get to us."

Aurelie almost snorted and quickly left with her food package after slamming her locker shut, unable to stand hearing any more of their idiocy. She ignored the curious glances and dirty looks of p*censored*erbyers and quickly exited the school. It took her a while to secure a cab but once she did, she gave the address of the bar that Azi worked at to the driver. The ride was dead silent, but that was normal in a cab. She didn't really trust any of her drivers enough to start a conversation, or continue one. When they arrived at her destination, she thanked and paid the cab driver courteously before stepping out. She wasted no time in heading into the bar, 'Ménage à Trois'.

Although the sun hadn't set yet and it was in the middle of the afternoon, the bar was crowded with people. It was popular after all, but that didn't stop Aurelie from feeling uncomfortable in this place. She disapproved of bars and drinking in general but she knew Azi had to get some sort of income. She secretly wished he would find a better job, however.

Eager to leave the bar, she hastily found the friendliest looking person nearest to her.

"Excuse me, do you happen to know where I can find Azi?" She inquired politely.

The person gave her a funny look and answered her in an almost sympathetic tone. "You don't seem like a regular customer, or one to even step inside a bar. Everyone knows who Azi is, let alone where to find him. He's the bartender here, you'll find him over there." The said person pointed towards the center of the bar and shooed her away.

Aurelie thanked the stranger quietly before making her way towards the center, pushing her way through a crowd of drunkards. When she emerged from the crowd, she immediately recognized a familiar bush of blonde hair.

"HEY, AZI"

"Yo. What're you doing here? It's rare for you to come see me, especially at work." Azi said in a curious tone with an eyebrow raised at her.

Aurelie opened her mouth to reply and pink somewhat dashed her cheeks as she realized he wouldn't hear her in such a loud place. Thankfully, he bent over to her height and she smiled gratefully before she whispered. "I need moral support from you. I'll explain more later, just not in this place, especially when some of your fangirls are jealous."

She eyed the girls out of the corner of her eye, somewhat nervous from the daggers they were glaring at her.

"Alright, just wait for me outside, I'll be out in a bit." Azi tried to scream over the crowd. Aurelie nodded and left first, thankful to be out of the crowded environment. She waited patiently until he appeared and secured a cab for them. Wasting no time, she quickly climbed in after hastily thanking him for opening the door. She waited until he got into the other side and told the driver the address of the boarding house before turning to Azi.

"Ok, so you know how my parents own the boarding house near the slums, right?" Without waiting for a response because she knew he obviously knew, she continued, "Well I collect the rent from all of the residents on a monthly basis and I know everyone well. But there's this boy there. He's...strange. He's always wearing his jester mask and he has scars all over his arms. I've never had a conversation with him. It's always just me awkwardly asking him for his rent and he would just hand it over without saying anything. But I feel bad for him cause he lives alone and he seems really lonely and whatnot so I wanna talk to him for once and maybe help him. I'm sorry for rambling but I am nervous as heck and I REALLY need your moral support and you're the only one I can count on! Can you please please please please please come with me to talk to him? I thought maybe he'd feel more comfortable with another guy there..." She was practically begging at the end of it. Aurelie looked at him with a pleading ex
pression, waiting for his answer.

Keagan Duval

The undead limped towards Keagan, arms outstretched and moaning in hunger. He was going to die. He really was going to die—getting killed by a dead person, above all things. His father would laugh. He heart was racing in his chest. He told himself to move, and although his fingers twitched in response to his command, the rest of him refused to obey orders. They were coming at him so slowly, yet he couldn't move fast enough to get out of harm's way.

Keagan clenched his eyes shut and let out a choking sob. Pathetic. He was absolutely pathetic. He should just die here—he had nothing to lose, no loving family to leave behind, no future to strive for. He tried to tell himself that he didn't have the freedom to live his own life, and he'd rather die on his feet than live on his knees.

But he wasn't fooling anybody. He wanted to live. He wanted to get out of this. The only thing he could do was lick his dry lips and cower on the floor and try not to wet his pants.

He heard the crashing of a metal tray and the breaking of porcelain and the sloshing of liquids behind him. From the corner of his eyes, Keagan saw a dark blur and the glint of light upon a silver blade. It's the thief, he thought numbly. His gut dropped. Even a thief with no morals was more brave than he was, more compa.ssionate, for that very stranger was protecting him with his life.

Screeches of delight filled the heavy atmosphere as the stranger brandished his scythe. With a grace even Keagan couldn't pull off, the stranger slid between the zombies, swinging his scythe in long elegant strokes and splitting heads. His cloaked billowed behind him, and Keagan couldn't help but feel awed by the sheer beauty of strength in the face of an ugly danger.

The minutes pa.ssed by excruciatingly slow, and Keagan was still rooted to his spot on the forest floor in shock. The stranger slashed at the undead, ripping dead bodies in half and severing heads. Keagan stifled a scream—his whimpering seemed to be louder than the grunts of effort from the stranger—as a dismembered head snapped at the thief's heels. Without breaking his rhythm, the man slammed the pointed end of his scythe into the head before slashing at a nearby zombie.

For every zombie that the man took down, two took his place. The army was unstoppable, and Keagan wondered why the thief wouldn't give up. Frankly put, he didn't see what the stranger had to live for. As far as he was concerned, the man's life was no walk in the park.

Before he could process another thought, Keagan was violently pulled to his feet by the collar and dragged along behind the stranger. He hissed in pain at death grip on his shirt, and he could tell the man wasn't going to loosen his hold on him any time soon.

He gasped for breath, both from the effort of running and his constricted neck. His lungs were aching and his chest felt tight. Whenever he stumbled over tree roots, he was easily lifted to his feet by the stranger and they continued to sprint to safety. The knees of his designer pajamas were torn from falling so much and thin red lines marred his fair complexion from running through branches.

Keagan realized they were making a beeline for his mansion and decided to take the lead. Slapping the stranger's hand away from his throat, Keagan reached for the man's wrist and jerked him to the right, nearly whipping the thief into a tree.

“This way's shorter,” he breathed. Having roamed the forest many times before to escape his father's wrath; he knew the maze-like path as well as his own mansion. He pumped his legs, feet practically gliding above the leaf covered ground.

Minutes later—or was it seconds? He could hardly keep track—they burst into a clearing, heaving for breath. He could hear the man's slightly irregular breathing beside him.

“You think we've lost them?” Keagan asked. Tightening his grip around the thief's wrist he lead him towards the mansion without waiting for a response. He tried to put the zombie ordeal behind him. Maybe if he could just push it out of his mind and out of sight, he could pretend it was all just a horrible nightmare. “You must be hungry. I'll have the servants prepare a meal for you.”

They entered the mansion through the back gate, treading carefully as to not attract the presence of Keagan's father. He gestured for a nearby servant.

“Prepare the guest room and a simple meal—corzetti and tomato soup, perhaps? And have it delivered to my room.” Keagan turned to his guest. “I'm a.ssuming you'll be staying here for the night.” Glancing at the stranger's attire, he said, “You could do with a change of clothes, as well. And perhaps a shower. Shall we retire to our rooms?”