Mercy Said No

Shakes

Chapter Two:
Shakes
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It was the dead of night in Glimoore, and a violent thunderstorm had robbed the small town of its usual soft chatter and the low rumbling of tired vehicles. In the heart of town, four troubled teenagers had gathered at their typical hang out spot Shakes, a famous local diner that ran at all hours and owned by the sweetest elderly woman one could ever come across. The building's deep coloured neon lights glowed like rudolph's red button nose in the black night, a beautiful contrast, as a blurred glare gently laced the grey cobble pavement outside as pelts of rain sliced through the bright primary colours.

Inside, Franco Jones gazed out of the shop's large glass window from his corner seat at the rectangular booth, his sharp features illuminated by electric red and green bulbs dangling from the ceiling. Temples searing with pain, his dark eyes focused on nothing in particular in the empty night, bony fingers tapping restlessly against the table as his mind spiraled uncontrollably.

From out in the gloom, a sweet song purred through his damaged soul, soft pitched at first and then a bellow. Franco could feel himself being pulled by an invisible string of symphony that drafted from the siren's lips, and out of the endless darkness, arose a young girl; hair in black ringlets and eyes gleaming mean. She was there for a split second, gone the next, the abrupt departure causing tight goosebumps to nip at Franco's ghostly pale skin. He blinked himself back into reality, slowly refocusing on the bland conversation between his friends.

"It's barely the beginning of the semester but I've already found my costume for Bakster's Halloween party." Franco's senses registered the smooth voice of Ruby Red. She sat opposite him with a bare leg crossed over the other, her manicured fingers daintily pressing the straw of a milky strawberry drink up to her red matte lips.

"Mm, let me guess...you're going as an angel again this year." Mars Rooney snorted in amusement after snapping out of her intense stare off with Ruby's cleavage.

Ruby's expression fell flat. "With that attitude I'll find someone else to play my devil." She warned with a playful glint to her tone, fully aware of the effect her small threat had on her girlfriend, even with her poor attempt to mask it behind a scoff.

"Go ahead, see if I care." Mars muttered under her breath, her straight icey white hair falling down her face like cool liquid. Her irritation was short-lived however, as her attention shifted toward Franco who sat motionless on his side of the booth. It was odd of him considering his usual laid back demeanor and seemed like a cause for concern. "Okay, what the hell, Jones? You're starting to freak me out."

Franco visibly stiffened as Mars' words echoed in the back of his head. He tried focusing on the softcore music playing quietly in the background of the midnight diner, perhaps a means of collecting his emotions to tuck them away into the far depths of his mind where they had no power over him.

"Gosh, Frank. You look like you've seen a ghost." Ruby followed his barren gaze but saw nothing significant that could have triggered his behavioral shift. "And you haven't bothered to touch your favourite milkshake."

Her voice was soft, unlike Mars' harsher tone, which differentiated the couple's personalities. The two were polar opposites, so many wondered how the duo even tolerated each other let alone have a romantic connection without tearing the other's head off.

"This isn't my favourite milkshake." Franco stared down into the mocha drink intensley until the blood red colour of the cherry sitting ontop the swirls of whipped cream dripped like oil paint into an even darker tint, which matched the purple bruises on Wendy's pale neck left by his own, bare hands.