Romeo and Juliet and Zombies and Aliens (Cutie and Forcie and maybe Bliss too)

Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
Whole misadventured piteous overthrows
Do with their death bury their parents' strife.
The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
And the continuance of their parents' rage,
Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

The curtains open and the first scene of the classic, Romeo and Juliet unfolds. Sampson and Gregory, in period dress and carrying swords and bucklers. The actors deliver in that high strung Shakespearean style. The background is that of a public place.

"Gregory o, my word, we'll not carry coals."

"No, for then we should be colliers."

"I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw."

The audience's attention is on the stage, though quite a few of the younger attendees quickly bring out their smart phones. Attention span was scarce these days, especially for a classic like this one.


Meanwhile, In the dimly lit backstage area, sharply dressed members of the Italian Mafia (yes they're still around) stand guard in one particular hallway, guarding a door.  They are all equipped with submachine guns and seem ready for trouble, with a couple of meta-enhanced mobsters toting heavy weaponry. The various actors and actresses of the play avoid that one hallway religiously. The reason for the security was for the transaction happening inside the office being guarded.

A young lady in a catholic school uniform was tied to the chair with thick ropes. Her head was covered by a black bag. "Here she is, as promised." Two well dressed thugs patted the hostage on the shoulder, like she was some kind of prized cattle. She violently shrugged the hand off. They just laughed at how feisty she was.

The receiving party looked over the young lady, seeing she was fairly well off and unharmed. "Ah, fair Juliet... Soon you'll be reunited with your Romeo. Heheh... Just sit tight." The other Italians said reassuringly, when the lights suddenly begin to flicker on and off. Guns are quickly drawn and loaded, and a tense silence fell over them.

As the lights come back on they are scarcely able to react to the appearance of another school girl in their midst, this one Asian-Italian of heritage, carrying a Japanese sword. She stood in their blind spot and inside their reach. Large and burly, they would have a difficult time reacting to someone that close. Wordlessly, silently, the first of their number fell to the ground, his hand neatly sliced off at the wrist, followed by a wide cut that saw his guts spilling to the floor. The others turned towards her, but it was too late.

Muffled Gunshots rang out from the room, and the guards outside react. Seconds pass before they open the door to see the office turned into a killing floor, mobsters desperately trying to tackle the assassin and freeing Juliet. The blonde Italian girl escapes through a window.

"How did you get in here?!" The guards ask, as the assassin pushes off the unfortunate who tackled her, making her lose her chance.  

She makes no reply, save for tossing a knife she takes off a dead mobster and hurling it towards the guard's eye. He screams in pain and collapses, trying to clutch the knife. Gunfire pours into the room and Diana is riddled with bullets in short order.  Having been ripped apart, she falls over.  

"Find the girl we brought in! Find Juliet!" The quarry had fled through the alley behind the theatre, the girl running in a most frightened state. Most of the mobsters flee from the scene to go after Juliet.

A few of the mobsters remained to inspect the scene. One younger mobster could barely stomach the sight of his butchered comrades, and vomits all over a head at his feet. They look at Diana's body, riddled with bullet holes. "Brave. But a stupid assassin. Bringing sword to gunfight..." He kicked the girl's form, but Diana was far from dead. She came eye to eye with them...

...The slaughter was far from over.


((Parties who seek out "Juliet" : ))

(( The Capulets, who wish their daughter returned safely to marry Paris.

Paris, who wants Juliet safe and Romeo killed.

Romeo, who wants nothing but to be united with Juliet, their family's wills be damned.

The Montagues, who wish Juliet dead for making "Romeo" rebel against his family.

Each party has offered sizable rewards for Juliet. ))

Two Days Ago
Los Angeles
5:40 am

Clayton's eyes opened to utter blackness, his head filled ringing from both the phone on the nightstand and last night's activities. He groaned as he reached across the warm body in the bed next to him to grab his phone, knocking a bottle of scotch over in the process, "Shit! This better be important," He cursed and brought the phone to his ear, "Yeah?"

"Hello. Mister Wray, is it?"

"Sure. Who is this?"

"Clayton Wray?"

"Uh, yeah. Who's asking?"

"Allow me to introduce myself then, Mr. Wray. My name is Tybalt, and I hope this isn't a bad time for you."

Clayton looked to the woman sleeping soundly at his side, and sighed.

"You definitely could have picked a better one."

"I'd apologize, but circumstances here don't really give me any time to wait. My family is in need of your services, immediately."

"And what services would that be, exactly?"

"Something been taken from us, and your skill in acquisition comes rather highly recommended. Very highly."

"I get that a lot. What exactly do you need me to do here, pal?"

"Why don't we discuss this in person. Your flight leaves in three hours. Terminal 2. Gate 3. And don't worry, you're first class."

"Woah woah, you just expect me to just get up at 5 am and hop on a plane for some stranger?"

"Check the pending transfer to your bank account on the way there, and maybe you'll see why we're so certain."

-click-

The conversation was ended before Clayton could even finish his rant.

He thumbed through his phone and brought up a mobile banking app, mutter to himself the all the while, "Just who does this guy think he is? Calling me up and just expecting me to come running. Well, if he thinks he's--" the app finally logged him in, and left him momentarily speechless, "Going to give me that much money for something I'm sure could not possibly wrong, he's right."


Today
Verona, Italy
7:00 pm

This was certainly a bizarre job Bizarre to Clayton, anyway.
The object of this search was not a forgotten tome of terrible knowledge, it was not stealing the sarcophagus of a forgotten and terrible pharaoh, it wasn’t even busting into a bank vault. All the Capulet family wanted was their daughter back from the bad people that took her hostage. A rival family of some sort, from what he could understand. When he explained to the family what he usually sought for money and tried to tell them to go to a detective instead, all they would tell him is that he came recommended as he would understand their circumstances when the time came. ”Whatever, he shrugged, “easy money.”

They insisted it wouldn’t be, but after a day of asking around, and a few broken skulls, he was sure he was at the right place. A small theatre specializing in Shakespeare from what he could tell.

He hurried out of the car and to the stage entrance of the building, which was located in an alleyway in the back. To his surprise it opened with ease on his first try. He inspected the lock, and found it broken; somebody beat him here. He proceeded cautiously down the flickering florescent hallway.

He could hear a play being put on in the front of the house but it was unnervingly quiet where he was, atleast until the gun shots started.

“Goddammit.” He drew a pistol of his own and hurried to the sound of the shots just around the corner. Clayton hugged the wall for a moment and peered around it just in time to see men walking into a room of some sort. He pulled himself back around only to hear more gunfire erupting from the room. “If they killed her, I’m gonna be so—“ He rushed quickly, and stupidly around the corner, sending him crashing directly into… a girl in some sort of school uniform?

“Juliet?”

"Sorry guys, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut you two off. You're both looking in pretty bad shape right about now." The man behind the bar said to a couple of heavily intoxicated customers sitting before him. One had their head on his arm and was barely holding himself up. The other one

"That's what you said half an hour ago, and I've downed about a dozen or so shots since then." One of the drunken men said to the bartender. "I'll be fine, I tell you. I'm playing to win after all."

"Shame you're going to lose." The other one interrupted as he downed another shot. "I'm now three glasses ahead of you." He stated boastfully as he put the glass down.

"No you're not. You're only up by one. Where are you getting three from?" The first one asked in disbelief.

"From being three up on you." The second one stated. "Tell him, bartender. How many are we each up to?"

"I honestly don't know anymore. I stopped keeping track awhile ago." The bartender admitted as he shrugged off the question.

"It's twenty-eight to twenty-six in favor of the gentlemen to my right. So it's actually a two drink difference." A voice called out to answer his question. It belonged to a man that was sitting at a table next to them. Neither of the two men at the bar had even noticed this guy sitting here up until now. How long had he been there exactly? At least he was keeping track of the drink total though. "May I ask your names?" The man asked of the two drunken ones.

"I'm Reginald Fargis. I work at the art gallery here. This is Ailill Hale. He's a contributor from the states." The second man said to introduce him and his fellow drinker.

"So what's your name fella?" Ailill asked the man as he tried to sound like he cared.

The man would respond with great enthusiasm and charisma. "Why, my name is Mercutio. It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Hale, even if you are slightly indisposed."

"Mercutio? Like the character from Romeo and Juliet?" Ailill asked curiously and sarcastically.

"Why yes, of course." Mercutio responded with more enthusiasm. He then looked over Ailill's shoulder and his face fell. "Anyways Mr. Hale, good luck with your little challenge. Maybe I'll see you again, maybe I won't. It was nice meeting you though. You should check out the theatre a few blocks from here while you're here. They put on some wonderful shows." Mercutio said before turning to the bartender. "Put tonight's order on my tab. I must be off." He said and hurried to leave. Ailill turned to watch him leave and saw some suspicious and strange folk in dark suits outside waiting for him.

Two days later, at the theatre.

Ailill Hale was actually attending a play at the theatre because that one guy had recommended that they check this place out. He had left his new acquaintance, Reginald behind to attend this thing while he was still in the country. Ailill wound up not being surprised when he saw that it was none other than a rendition of Romeo & Juliet. The first act wouldn't even come to a close before Ailill would give up on the show and depart.

A few nasty looks were sent his way as he left, but Ailill did not concern himself with them. What he did concern himself with was getting lost on the way out. "The exit was that way, right?" he asked himself as he pointed down a hallway. Some guy rushed by at the other end of the hallway, looking like they were in a hurry. They must have hated the play too. Thinking that the nearest exit was probably that way, Ailill took off down the hallway. Right around the point that he reached the end of this hallway, he heard nearby gunshots. "Oh dammit." He said aloud when he heard the gunshots. Now what? Ailill wanted to know what was going on due to his nature of always wanting to know things, but didn't want to risk his safety. So he went the opposite way of the gunshots.

The gunshots had come from his left, so he ran right, and ran right into a room full of dead bodies, and some heavily wounded woman with a sword standing there amidst all the bodies. "Oh, well then." he said without meaning to. That would probably get her attention if she wasn't already aware that he was there.

The metallic smell of blood and death stayed in the air upon their arrival. Limbs and bodies twitched with dying life or with muscle reflexes. A man was trying to grasp at Clay's leg. It didn't help that he was missing his lower jaw, his tongue obscenely hanging from the gaping orifice, blood spilling everywhere. The floor was slick with gore.

Diana was just finishing off the last mafia member, extracting her sword from his gut. Her uniform was riddled with bullet holes, her own wounds visibly closing, her very flesh knitting itself together in a way that pained the assassin herself.

When Clay addressed her as Juliet, Diana simply smirked. "Not really." The assassin ignores Clay and Ailil arrival and chases after her prey, Juliet. The Italian city is old, and such its streets were narrow and winding, the buildings uneven in their elevation. It was night time now, and the streets were filled with people. The hunter had the scent though, and her eyes turned upward towards the rooftops, Juliet already making distance between her and her pursuer.
"How did she get up there?!" Diana voiced her annoyance. She noticed that some of the regular mafia members were also in pursuit in cars. Diana parkoured her way up to the roof, and began chasing, leaving the theatre behind. She was breathing heavily, inhaling and exhaling with force in concert with her movements, her athleticism paying off.

Diana thought the girl was now cornered when they reached a wide avenue, too far to jump. Sword in hand ready to end Juliet's life, Diana cursed as this Juliet suddenly sprouted insect wings and simply flew over traffic and headed inside a slummy looking 5 storey apartment block through a window. "That's not. FAIR!" She shouted to no one in particular, getting back to street level and commandeering a bicycle to help her gain speed.