Skulls on the Run

Prologue

••••
A beautiful city, lingered with flashing and colourful lights glared the atmosphere and its surroundings. The walk past every club, every bar, every hotel there was music blaring from the radio. Jazz, people dancing in the streets. Pop, people drunk and singing along. And oh- the fun of society and culture, changing every time by almost every day and night. The flashy Model T Fords changing colour as they drive by every clubs- streaks of neon on the sides. And the outfits! New modelled dresses, new tacky suits placed in every clothing store. It was enough for someone saving money to buy!

Although the city lingered with enjoyment, it wasn't the major feature of what made some humans and monsters ecstatic- for it was the bridge. Painted white on not all around but some parts- a bridge made from metal that was strongly stabilised. It was the heart of neon colours that reflected from the popular areas of fun.

However, the bridge was also a connective between those who could afford, and those who couldn't. Those who could afford the latest car, the latest clothes, and party at the latest clubs- were happy. But those on the other side, it was all... well, nothing.

From where the bridge was, there was a landslide that consisted of wooden and metal homes. Was it just monsters that consisted the area? No, humans too. Just any humans? Well, yes: families providing for one another, the poor, those who the banks and governments failed to protect. But it was also where gangsters lived. One main group that lived in the slums was one ran by a skeleton everyone there called Nightmare. Although he was 18 he was known for his skills when stealing, bootlegging, and subsequently murder. His group was small, but the reputation as "Robin Hoods." Stealing money then sharing it amongst his neighbours and friends.

One boy that was apart of Nightmare's gang was another skeleton just slightly taller than him, was Horror. From where his slum resigned, he could see the amazement just from the other side from where the bridge was. He wanted some of it. No, quite a lot of it to be precise. He wanted the late night drink he paid for with his friends, and he wanted the latest suit. The one he currently wears was stollen 4 years ago, and it doesn't quite fit him anymore. But he doesn't feel the motivation to steal a new one. 'All that hassle,' he thought, taking his tie off and looking out his window which had a crack coming from the upper-left side.

From there was his room, and outside all that partying. 'They probably don't even know about us,' Horror thought again- just glaring villainously at the city. Those banks took his old home away, the government failed to protect his family. And his brother... god knows where he is. He was taken by CPS when Horror was 9, and all he could ever ask for is a second to see him- even if it meant just a letter that they could connect buy. After all, there will never be a day where Horror could afford the latest invention people called the 'telephone.'

...

Half 10 at night came, and the city still blared. Maybe because it was January and people were celebrating the new year. But still, Horror sat by his bedroom window in silence...

Suddenly, the echo of a door slamming came from the slum below him. Another skeleton... he stormed out with a moonshine bootle in his hands. He was clearly a he, but he wore a lovely, stunning, beautiful purple dress. But it was torn and crooked. He began to cry after another skeleton with clothes covered in paint went after him.

If Horror remember correctly, his name was Lust but all the elderly of the slums called him Lavender- and the one who ran after was Ink, who was always making something new to try and sell.