The Scarlet, 1hypermegatailsfan
The newspapers were incredibly depressing as of late. Every headline, every article, and every printed word seemed to only be about sad matters. Even just a glance at today's papers was enough to sink one's heart.
'Search For Missing Geniuses Officially Called Off!'
'Tax Hikes Expected To Rise By End Of Spring!'
'Second Riot In Downtown : Unrest In Poverty!'
Yet on this chilly February morning, the one selling the papers wasn't sad at all. The twenty-year old young man sitting on the edge of a marble fountain was all smiles as he exchanged papers for coins. He had read the news and understood the gravity of each situation but still continued to cheerily thank each customer he had. He was an unusual sight, a small mouse dressed in ratty and ragged brown clothes smiling brightly as he sold news that could bring strong men to tears. The clothes weren't enough to keep him warm since he shivered every so often but even that was not enough to dampen his spirits.
The reason for his att
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Count Mickey Dragul was restless. He could list several reasons why he couldn't sleep. Winter had come, and so everything was just a bit chillier. One of his fangs might be getting a cavity. He could continue listing them, but none of them would be the real reason why he couldn't relax. It was irksome to admit it, but he knew the reason behind his restlessness was thanks to the beautiful woman that was probably fast asleep only a few doors down. Mickey had only planned on letting Mina stay a day or two, while he made sure the men after her were long gone. Alas, she was impossibly beautiful, impossibly kind, and so Mickey found it impossible to stop thinking about her.
He got up and paced around his room. There had to be a rational reason behind this constant thinking of the maiden. She had been the first living thing this castle had seen in decades, if one didn't count the visits of Doctor Goofy, and even his visits were
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"I will do nothing of the sort. You've exceeded my expectations. Had I known you were so good at surprises, I would have been much more comfortable with that runaway piece."
"This again? Very well, let's see him again. If it becomes too much, we'll reign him in."
Though the Captain had many good memories of his mother, the memory that always stood out was the very last time he had seen her. She laid on the floor of their humble home, a stranger's brutal hands on her throat, and her voice becoming shallower with each last scream. The young boy was hidden yet could not force himself to look away from watching the life drain out of her eyes. It had been a slow and agonizing process as he saw every muscle move its last. When the deed was done and the man had left, the boy was no longer a boy, and the imprint of death had so darkly struck him that he had vowed to never see it again, sin