“Extra! Extra! Eight murdered victims been found near Berkley Bridge!” yelled the news-boy from atop his soap box. He clutched papers in his hands as the fluffed-out woman in big dresses, the backs puffed out with feathers and other outrageous garments, and men in bowler hats and suits flocked to the stand. Gasps arose from the crowd.
“Oh my! This is terrible! Mai, did you see this yet?!” A woman with curly blonde hair asked.
“Oh, I wish I hadn’t, Drea! Don’t seem like the city’s’ safe anymore!” A black-haired woman in a purple dress gasped in response.
Just then, as if materializing from the ally’s brick walls, a dark figure appeared and swept past the frightened ladies. Only a few passers-by noticed the figure. The woman dropped their papers and fled the stand.
“All aboard!” Yelled the trains-man from platform three.
The sharp click of riding boot heals could be heard over the massive crowd of the station. The trains-man narrowed his eyes at the sound. Through the crowd, the dark figure seemed to roll off the others’ shadows as it strode up toward the man. He took a frightened step back at this sight and arched an eyebrow. A being around the age of fourteen was standing in front of him dressed in a much-too-long coat, the collar tight around the being’s neck with silver cross buttons all the way down the front, a large round-brimmed hat, the side decorated with an array of miss-matched exotic bird feathers all around a dark blue tattered silk ribbon. The hat cloaked the eyes in dark shadows along with blonde bangs. But the most unusual item that the trains-man had ever seen someone carry – and he had seen some very unusual things – was a black coffin that he – or was it a she? – carried over the shoulder, a big indigo cross stretching across the lid.
Just as abruptly as the person had arrived in front of the trains-man, it turned to the side faster than he could breath, toward the sliding door of the locomotive. He quickly stumbled to slide it open and somehow managed to ask, “W-would y-you like me to stow that for ye?” over his startled breaths.
The light from the lanterns illuminated the person’s pale chin, and, like a creaky, old spider crawling across a silk dew-covered web, the pale, rose petal lips stretched back into a manically-beautiful grin; a shinny, sharp pearl-white canine being revealed. The trains-man gasped openly.
And still grinning – still hauling that coffin over the shoulder – the teen climbed onto the train without a word.
