Wax Candles

After twisting and snaking through the thick crowds of people, I reached an odd looking little shop. The worn wooden sign read "Into the Bizarre" craved in and painted a dull, chipping yellow color; a white skull and crossbones was craved under the shop name. Did I really want to go in this creepy looking place? I looked over my shoulder, heaving a sigh of relief when I saw a street vendor was giving Romeo a hard time. Slipping into the dully lit shop, I saw a boy with blonde spiked hair, head bend over a magazine. I couldn't help but smile. Was this boy normal? As the heavy shop door closed behind me, the boy raised his head and his purple eyes darted towards me. I frowned slightly; I stand corrected. I inched closer as he watched me tinker with a little shrunken head that hung from the ceiling. His eyes were purple, sure, but little black spots dotted them, making him not seem as evil.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" the boy asked me in a young, child-like voice, "You entered in quite a hurry." He was leaning towards me from behind the store's counter, purple eyes watching every move I made.

Was I alright? Even I didn't know the answer to that, but I figured being kept captive by a couple of guys wasn't exactly "alright". "Not really," I shook my head, trying to look terrified, "A man was chasing me through the streets. I ducked in here, hoping to get away from him."

The boy's eyes narrowed. "What did he look like?"

"Er, well he's tall, like six feet tall. He has long black hair and these piercing little blue eyes that followed me everywhere," I explained, fiddling with a strand of my brown hair, "He has a lip ring too I think."

The boy shifted, tilting even closer to me. "Does he happen to travel with three blondes and a black and red haired boy?"

I blinked; surprised he knew who I was talking about. "Um, yes actually."

The purple optics grew wide. "Romeo, yeah?"

"Mhm." I was nervous now.

"Oh Lord, you need to get out of here now," the boy told me, closing his magazine which I could tell was titled "Another Thousand Steps". A picture of a couple of men was on the cover under the title; they were pointing towards an exotic looking island. As the boy made his way over to me, I drew my hand away from a glass bottle with what looked to have a dead baby shark in it.

"Why is that?" I asked, trying not to stare into his odd looking eyes.

"Those boys are pirates, and good ones at that," he told me, shuffling through a little wooden box on the counter, pulling out two pieces of paper.

"Pirates! I knew it," I exclaimed; the boy smiled.

"My name's Massu," he said, "You are?"

"Uh, April," I sputtered, not wanting to give my name out to yet another stranger.

"Pleasure to meet you, April. It's not everyday I get to help someone escape Kiro's little group." He seemed pleased at this. Striking up a match, Massu lit an oil lamp that hung over the counter; it lit up most of the shop now. I almost wanted to put that light out, because now I could see what gruesome things were in this place.

Bottled and pickled human and animal parts lined the shelves and dozens of shrunken heads dangled from the ceiling. Cages filled with birds that looked hungry for human flesh watched me with there beady little red eyes; one cawed at me and I jumped. The door to the shop looked like a dungeon door, come to think of it, the whole shop looked like a dungeon. This place was giving me the creeps.

"So what do you know about "Kiro's little group"?" I asked, backing against the counter to avoid being near any of the merchandise.

"Well," Massu sighed, "They're damn good pirates. Steal right out from under your nose they will. Yet they have an advantage."

"Advantage?"

"Yeah, see, Kiro's men aren't exactly normal." He paused, looking around as if to make sure no one else was listening to what he was about to say. "See, they're v--" As soon as Massu started to speak, someone was trying to break down the stores heavy door.

"Open up!" an aggravated, husky voice snarled from behind the door. I knew that voice; it was Romeo.

"It's him!" I squeaked, hugging myself as if frightened, and then again, I was afraid of what was going to happen.

Only once Massu stood up straight did I realize he was only about an inch taller than I. "I'm going to help you get away from him," Massu assured me, taking my arm and leading me to the back room of the store. I tried very hard to dodge the shrunken heads that seemed to fly at me. Crouching down onto the floor, he moved a large wooden box to reveal a sewer cover. As he removed the cover, a strong, sour smell curled up and hit me in the face; I gagged.

"Sorry about that," Massu frowned, handing me the two pieces of paper he had been searching for earlier.

"What are these for?" I asked, looking at the papers. One had an address; the other seemed to have coordinates.

"Directions to get through the sewer," he told me simply.

"But what is this?" I said, holding up the address.

"That's where you'll end up, my house. Once you get there, lock yourself inside. Do not, I repeat, do not leave the house," Massu warned me, "I'll be home once the sun goes to sleep."

I started to climb down the slimy sewer ladder rings. "When the sun does what?"

"Sleeps. You know, goes down."

"Right," I muttered, half way down the ladder now. "Promise you'll be there?"

Massu flashed his white teeth in a grin. "Of course. Now hurry before he--" The store door tumbled down and by the sound of it, smashed into a couple of the shelves. I almost puked when I thought about what it must look like, all those pickled body parts on the floor.

Before I could thank Massu for helping me escape, he slid the cover back over the hole. Great. How was I even supposed to see down here? Once I reached the bottom, I felt around on the wall as if hoping to find a light switch. Suddenly my finger tips tapped a glass object. I ran my fingers over its tear dropped shaped body; it was an oil lamp. I turned the key like knob at the bottom and it burst to life. I gave a sigh of relief.

Holding the papers in the light of the lamp, I started to follow Massu’s directions. A left here, twelve paces there, another left, now a right. A growing feeling of being lost kept eating at my heart, but I had no other choice but to follow what the paper said. It seemed like ages and I had yet to see the exit. I felt like my fate was about to smuggle me down here. I just wanted to escape all this.