• Felix was to die today.

    He didn’t know this when he woke next to his mistress, of course. This was to be the day he would wed his lovely fiancé, Lovette, and he felt good, stretching catlike towards the ceiling. His mistress, Mercedes, stirred in her sleep but did not wake.

    Felix smiled. How lucky was he, to have not one beautiful woman at his side, but two? Of course, neither knew of the other. What would be the fun in that?

    He got up and dressed, and quietly snuck out of the room. When he emerged on the street from the back door, he was nearly run over by a speeding carriage. The whites showed in the horse’s eyes as they quickly swerved out of Felix’s way, and the driver shouted at him. Felix was hardly concerned though, for misfortune never befell him.

    He walked down the boulevard, humming a cheerful tune. With his golden, shaggy hair, icy eyes, and lithe build, he was enough to make any girl swoon. His clothes were modest, but fashionable; he wore a black coat with a moderately frilled white shirt, black pants and a scarlet tie. His shiny black dress shoes clacked against the cobblestones as he made his way to his parent’s house.

    A girl in a red dress swooned at his passing, and Felix considered her as a possible future mistress. “Nah, hair’s too dull…and she has brown eyes…” Felix had very high standards for his women; dark hair, light eyes, rail-thin and pale as a ghost. Anything less, he wouldn’t look at the girl twice. That was why he was marrying the most beautiful girl in France—skin like snow, eyes like mint leaves, hair like a raven’s wing. His mistress was also extremely beautiful—chestnut hair, gray eyes and a light sable complexion.

    Thinking of her, Felix could have sworn he saw Mercedes out of the corner of his eyes, but when he turned to look, no one was there. “Strange…” He went back to strolling, humming a different tune.

    But someone was there. It was Mercedes after all. See, she didn’t know that Felix had a fiancé. She thought that Felix was courting her, that they would get married. She never doubted this, but wondered why he wouldn’t take her to meet his parents, and where he went everyday. So here she was, following her beloved.

    She saw him going down the side-street and hurried behind a parked carriage. She saw him entering a mid-sized house and she snuck up to a window. She heard voices and strained to hear more.

    “…so where is Lovette? Where is my lovely?” Felix said to an older-looking woman.

    “Her dress isn’t done yet, sweetie,” Said the matronly woman. “She’s at the tailors.”

    Just then a raven-haired beauty strode into the room, wearing a black, flowing dress. “Felix! You know you aren’t supposed to see me in my wedding dress,” She scolded him with a smile on her face.

    “Felix is getting married! To another woman!” Mercedes couldn’t believe it. She also didn’t understand why the girl stealing her man from her was wearing a black wedding dress. “Who wears black on their wedding day?”

    Felix turned from his bride and looked towards the window. “Mercedes?” He mumbled.

    “What’s that, dear?” Lovette asked.
    “Oh, nothing dear. To refrain from incurring any more bad luck, I will depart for now. I’ll see you at midnight, my little Moonlit Wolf.”

    “And I you, my Sun-streaked Lion.” They kissed, and Felix left his wife and mother, heading out towards Mercedes.

    When he was sure he was out of earshot of Lovette, he called, “Mercedes? Mercedes? What are you doing here, Love?”

    Just then he heard a loud clang from a nearby alleyway. He turned down it to find Mercedes in a gray-and-red-striped tiered dress, just like the one she wore when they first met. “Why, Felix?” She cried. She held a fire-poker in her hand.

    “Why what, darling?” Felix said in a soft voice.

    “I thought you loved me!” Her tears turned black from the kohl she wore on her eyes.

    “I do, Love, I do,” Felix was mentally thinking up escape routes. The alleyway was a dead-end.

    “Then why are you marrying someone else? Don’t lie to me Felix.” She swung the poker fiercely.

    “Mercedes, it’s just a misunder—“

    “A misunderstanding? Do you think I’m stupid? I know what this is. I was nothing more than your mistress!”

    Felix faltered. She had hit the nail on the head, so to speak. “Darling, I can—“
    Mercedes lunged towards him, brandishing the poker like a sword. “How dare you play with my heart!” she screamed, her eyes mad with fury and heartbreak. “I loved you!”

    Felix was caught off-guard by her sudden attack, and barely dodged the poker aimed at his head. “Mercedes, no!” he cried, stumbling backwards. He found his footing and ran out of the alley, but slipped in a filthy puddle. He came down hard, falling face-first into the cobblestones. He scrambled to a sitting position and turned around, and the last thing he saw was the look of rage on Mercedes’ face as she hit him in the head with the poker.

    When he awoke, Felix was some kind of box, with his hands chained together. He struggled, and the rusty chains cut his wrists. The blood trickled down his arms and onto his trousers, and when he went to wipe his face, it coupled with tears. “Why? Why did I need two?” he sobbed. “If it wasn’t for my selfishness, I wouldn’t be in this situation. I would be with Lovette, saying vows and getting hand-fasted. “I’ll never make it to Summerland now…”

    Suddenly the box moved, and Felix’s chains cut deeper into his wrists with the movement. The box opened, and Felix saw Mercedes standing with a man in a black cloak, with the hood pulled over his face.

    “M-Mercedes? W-what is all th-this?” Felix shook with fright as he realized where they were.

    The cemetery.

    “This is what’s called revenge, Felix. I’m going to get mine, and Gaston here is going to help me.” She motioned to the cloaked man.

    “N-no! Mercedes, I-I didn’t know what I w-was d-doing! C-can’t we work th-this out?” he was already shaking a great deal, but trembled violently when the cloaked man took out a long sickle with a sharp-looking blade. The blood from his wrists splattered everywhere—he was cutting himself deeper with each tremor, and he was starting to feel lightheaded from blood-loss. He looked down to see the bottom of the box, and his eyes widened with horror. It was flooded with blood and urine. He didn’t remember peeing himself, but wasn’t surprised he had.

    Felix looked up to see the cloaked man approach him, swinging the wicked blade. “N-no!” Felix screamed, backing up. The movement caused the box to tip over, spilling the foul mixture of blood and urine over Felix as he fell into some form of hole. Felix quickly got up, scrambling away from the cloaked man.

    It took him a moment to realize he was in a grave. Felix screamed, stumbling
    and scrambling in the fetid blood-urine mud, clawing at the grave’s sides. “No! N-nooooo….” He was getting faint, his vision blurry. His chained wrists bled black from the dirt and rust. His clothes were soaked, his face mud-and-blood streaked. He reeked of urine. He collapsed into the foul stench, whispering, “No, no…”

    Mercedes was saying, “What a terrible way to die…Oh, look, Gaston! Company.”

    The last thing Felix ever heard was Lovette’s screams as she saw his body lying in a muddy grave.

    To be continued…