The clinking of metal against ceramic mingled with the sound of chattering on this unusually busy night. The Blue Rose dinner was by no means an unpopular place. It was a facet of the neighborhood. People came and out of the little place. You walked in and you almost felt like you’re in a completely different time. Blue vinyl covered the seating of the chrome bottom swivel stools that followed the length of the curve around counter that Waitresses often bustle about, depositing and calling orders through the order window that opened up into the kitchen. It was a flash back to a simpler time, or at least that was how Brian Richards like to describe his pride and joy, the business he opened with his wife years ago. Now the wizened old man, widowed, yet still with the vigor and spunk of a man half his age still maundered about his dinner, doing the books, overseeing the business and more importantly interacting with the customers. Telling old stories of wars past, when ladies where dames, and Men, cats. Some stories sound like something that could have happen in the days of Al Capone. In the days where the basement was a speakeasy. The ninety something year old man was a fixture of the Blue Rose establishment, just as much as the picture of his dearly departed wife, Kimiko that was hung on the back wall behind the counter.

The dinner was a warm welcoming place, it wasn’t uncommon for the place to be pack, it was only the time that made it odd as the only waitresses manned the floor area while the waiter manned the counter. If Mr. Richards knew it was going to be like this tonight he wouldn’t have let Jenny leave early. It was a little much to serve a packed house with only two servers and one cook. Though the old man had to give them this, for a couple of kids they kept on top of things. That was odd for sure to be caught understaffed, but what made it the oddest was the night. It was the night of the full moon. No one went out when the moon came out…well no one that was sane…or human.

Supernatural creatures wandered the streets at night, they always have. It was a common fact. There was once a day when Vampires, Werewolves and all sorts are supernatural creatures were just monsters of leaned told to frighten children into obedience, to give someone a thrill before you jumped out at them in the dark of night on a camping trip. There wasn’t a human old enough to tell you about the days before they found out the creatures they feared, creatures that people would make what was no absurd or even insulting movies about to give viewers a fright. No maybe Mr. Richards could recall stories his father or even grandfather could have told him about the day when the first supernatural came out of the woodworks. It was like a leak in a damn, the flood waters burst through and soon humans realized they were everywhere! Friends, co-workers, family even. People started to learn that everywhere they look the supernatural had been living among them, coexisting. Maybe they had hope the humans they had been living with for so long, people who were friends, co-workers, even family would accept them, just go on as it was before. How wrong they were.

So on nights of the full moon, it has become mandatory for a curfew to be put into effect. As a way to offer protection to humans from the night that creatures like werewolves tend to come out and live up to their namesake. Some prowling about, the beast inside threatening to break loose, while others…they hunt. Some wildlife, satisfying that impulse they claimed to have, while others….well, murder was never an uncommon thing in New York. Though numbers claim that Murders commited by supernaturals double that of human on human homicides…though those numbers, well it was hard to say if they were really true. Every study, every fact used came from the Hunter’s Guild. Many things were to be question.

So with all that in mind it was odd that so many came filling in. Most were teenagers and college age student, dressed sort of oddly. Some painted up like the dead, fake blood staining ripped clothing and dark circles smudged around eyes, while other looked perfectly normal. The dark haired waitress flitted from table to table, she light on her feet as she would refresh drinks, walk about speaking to customers, taking orders and delivering food. At one point she had five treys balanced. How the trey on her never went tumbling was an amazement in itself. Though it was no secret when the Asian woman set her mind to it. Though that was Kira Yagumi, she didn’t stop trying until she succeeded or she crashed and burned. At that time she was determined to get all those orders out while Thomas kept an eye on the register and manned the counter. Long ebony strands sat pulled up into a loose bun her dark locks and lightly tanned complexion was a stark contrast to the blue waitress uniform dress, a white apron tied securely around her thin figure, showing what curves she hid beneath the usually shapeless dress. Kira for the fifth time that night regretted her choice in earing as the charm swung again as she leaned down to place an order of fries on the table, they having made the last call for the night, having already locked up the front. It was probably the reason why these people had rushed in so close to closing. Most public buildings like it offered shelter on a full moon. To help to keep silly kids and people off the street on the night of the full moon.

It was just going to originally be Tommy, her, Mr. Richards and Cora who was manning the kitchen. It took a bit of effort to get the spare sleeping bags, and cots out of storage, but Tommy and with what little help Mr. Richards could offer, got it set up while Kira had manned the floor. The future concert Cellist dodging playful hands, and laughing politely at jokes that only made her want to turn and walk as far away as possible. It was clear some of the zombie paint clad patrons had a few beers before they all rushed in. She doubted some of them where even legal to drink. “ ‘ey, legs!” Oh there was that delightful nick name that the green skinned undead wanna-be at table nine had so ‘kindly’ given her the glowing nickname. The dark haired woman had to push back the grimace that had flickered on her features at the sound of that voice. The twenty one year old took a couple of moments to compose herself before she plastered a smile on her face before she turn around, walking over to the man and his three friends, the smell of dried, fake blood stale and honestly putrid to the woman. Though she never did like the smell of that stuff, though when your brothers drench you with a bucket full of that stuff one Halloween when you were thirteen and dressed as Snow White tended to not make you not like much of that night…and she smelled of fake blood for the last couple of nights. It took a good deal of vanilla brown sugar body scrub to remove that smell from her skin.

“Yes, sir? How can I help you?” Ah, there was that urge to slap him, though, she realized slapping people would be rather fantastic in about any sense…at least the annoying ones…which was most of the human race and other wise. Maybe Kira wasn’t quite big enough of a people person to be waitress. Oh, well, she just had to refrain from scowling or hitting the more frustrating ones.

“Well, I never did get that number.” He grinned, much to his friends’ amusement as he leaned his elbow on the table leaning a bit, trying to eat away her personal space. Kira wasn’t much of one to back down first as she stood there, the plastic, friendly smile hardly wavering as she stood there. She wondering if the angles really were keeping count of all your good deeds you did and every bad impulse you repressed. She should be earning a flipping pony at this point.

“I’m sorry sir, but if you don’t need anything on the menu, I need to go check up on the other customers.”

Her only grinned, causing that green grey face paint to flake and crack further, the cheap black lipstick having dried and cracked. “Well, I’d love some fries to go with your shake…And maybe a little sip in the men’s bathroom later” Okay, that was almost funny…seriously, it’s gone from bad pick-up lines and come on’s to….this, she was actually concerned for half a second he had a stroke in the last fifteen minutes he hadn’t demanded her attention.….but this guy really didn’t get the hint after the first hour of putting up with this. Though before she could snap ‘unless you want this ‘shakes’ heels shoved up your ass, you better order something or fuck off.’ But fortunately for her and her job, Tommy’s voice broke through the claimer of the packed dinner, the pitch still oddly higher then she was used to hearing from a man.

“Hey Kira! Cora just shut down the kitchen, care to help me clean up?”

Never in her life had she wanted to jump over that counter and kiss her beautiful savior that had just saved her from this dumbassery. If the dress was longer she might have seriously considered it. “Coming!” She called before, shooting a strained smile at the four men sitting at the booth. “I’m sorry sir, but it seems the kitchen is closed.” She said ripping their receipt off her little pad, placing the slip of paper on the table, already turning away as she added. “Have a good night.” The woman depositing the last few receipts on the tables before she moved behind the bar as Mr. Richard set to work of collecting the money, and ushering the likely tired guests to the safe room. While Kira and Tommy ducked through the swinging doors leading into the kitchen. NO sooner had they did the tall, red haired man break into a fit of laughter, ignoring the annoyed glare he got from the woman beside him.

“O-oh my god! I swear I thought you were going to snap your pencil out there….or shove it through that guys’s eye!” He finally managed as his laughter dissolved into chuckles, Cora having apparently already finished up the dishes as she was no longer in the spacious room any longer. The smell of fryer grease, grilled cheese and burgers still clinging to the air. It almost made her hungry, but the dark eyed woman was a little preoccupied trying to not turn any redder as she looked away from her co-worker as she untied the apron from around her waist, quickly crossing the room to hang it on its usual hook.

“I was fine.”

“Yeah, and I’m a fairy princess.” He snarked, playfully pushing her shoulder as he hung his on the hook as well. “Sorry to tell you Kira, but you have a tell. You tap your foot when a customer is pissing you off. It’s like how you twirl your hair when you get nervous.

Kira only scoffed as she went over to one of the garbage cans, pulling out the full bag and tying it off. She having to blow a rebellious strand of hair out of her eyes as she made her way towards the door. “You stare too much, Thomas.” She stated, resisting making a snarky comment in return. They played this game often. He snarks, she snarks back and so the night would descend into that until he left her at her apartment door after walking her home from work. Though he had laughed at her misfortune. She wasn’t going to grace him with the honor of a snark war. “That is a little disturbing….and stalkerish.” She stated as said freckled young man, opened the back door for her. Kira far too focused at looking at anything but the red head to remember to look around before she walked outside the door, said red haired man leaning back in to grab a couple bags himself to deposit into the dumpster nestled at the end of the ally with her. Sooner they got done, sooner they could camp out in the locker room and get some sleep.

“Oh come on, we both know ‘Ice Queens’ aren’t my type. I prefer a girl a bit more…spunky.” He playfully corrected as he followed her out, making sure the brick they used to keep the door open was nestled between the door and doorframe. Only chuckling as she finally looked at him to scowl, said red head tossing his bags in before taking the bag from her to toss into the now open dumpster. The putrid smell of bad meat, stale soup and likely that weird, putrid, unidentifiable sludge that accumulated in this dumpster. No matter how much she helped with the afterhours clean up, she was never going to get used to that smell.

“Uh-huh….Creeper.”

“Oh come on! I know you can do-“ Though before he could finish his sentence a loud snarl vibrated off the graffiti littered walls of the alleyway, causing the duo to freeze in place, they finally turning their eyes from one another to find a site that made Kira’s blood run cold. A large, lanky form of tightly coiled muscle loomed in the entrance of the alleyway, the golden, orange glow of the street lamp casting a long shadow down the mostly well-lit alleyway. Sharp claws made slightly curled, hairy hands look menacing, as if ready to cut through them like a hot knife through butter. Every inch of skin covered in a dingy, mousy brown fur that seemed a bit patchy in places, almost like a dog with mange, but one didn’t focus on it long as one’s eyes were immediately brought to the slightly open maw, fangs bared. If she didn’t know better his teeth looked to be almost stained red. A werewolf, and a nice sized one at that….and he did not look friendly.

Kira couldn’t focus on much as all that seemed to exist in that moment was the golden eyes that stared back at her as the creature inched closer and closer in the alleyway. She hardly aware of how the freckled man beside her, coiled his soft, warm hand wrapped around her upper arm, slowly ushering her with him as he started to usher her towards the door. He being sure to avoid all eye contact with the wolf as his grip tightened around her arm, as if trying to pull her from her daze. Though no matter where he moved, the creature cut off any path or escape. “Kira…Kira! Come on, where the Ice Queen when I need her?” He whispered, shaking her a bit, making her look at him. Tensing as another growl left the mangy looking werewolf. His brown eyed gaze staring straight into her deep chestnut colored ones. “I want you to run for the door, alright? I’ll be right behind you.”

“Tom-“

“You got the shorter legs, you need the head start.” He snarked, a shaky smile on his face before her gently pulled her behind him. Before Kira could think to yell at him, hit him, call him a moron and try to stop him the red head swept a empty spray paint can off the dirty Alley floor, tossing it at the creatures face before shouting “Now!” pushing Kira towards the door, but before either could take more than a couple steps a loud howlish snarl left the creature before he was upon Thomas, sharp fangs and claws ripping though soft flesh, blood splattering across the cold floor that soon met his body like a spit can of red paint. Thomas’s pained cry cut short as the creatures large jaws swept down to bite into Thomas’s ones tender, exposed throat. In a course of five seconds Kira had witnessed her first: Fully transformed werewolf, a crime committed by one..and the murder of a friend. The woman who always had a plan, who always had an escape, and excuse had nothing. No quick exit, no words, nothing as she backed away from the scene, only retreating deeper into a dead end. All she had was a scream when the creature leaped upon her, knocking her to the floor. His sharp claws ripping through the puffed, powder blue sleeves of her uniform, staining the cotton a blackish purple as her blood seeped into the material. Her Maryjane heels staying on her feet as she kicked upward. She was scared, terrified, but there was no way she was being dragged to deaths door without putting up some fight. She wasted whoever found her body to say ‘she went down fighting, sir.’ When they had to tell her father that he lost his only daughter.

She only screamed again, somehow managing to pull the warm mettle that rested against her upper thigh, her dagger being pulled from the sheath with little resistance. She only reminded she had strapped it on before work only when she was trying to twist away, to feel the pressure on her thigh. Her had flashed wildly, registering the whine of pain that left the creature that was only to be replaced by a snarl as she tried to wiggle out from under the creature, though before she could retreat out from under him did she feel a sharp unbelievable pain dig into her side, a shrike leaving her so loud it nearly made her own ears ring. A sudden rush of anger and adrenalin ran through her veins. The pain, the fear, the sight of Thomas’s lifeless body laying in his own blood. That was all that registered as she twisted around, faintly aware of how her skin protested slightly as she brought the silver knife across the creatures face, making a pained roar rumbled from the creature as it released her. Pained, labored gasps puffing past her lips as she dragged herself farther way, her shuddering arms giving out from under her as she collapsed on the ground, watching as the beast clawed at its face, crying out in pain, she faintly wondering what that bit of white, bloody flesh that was that hung from her the end of her knife that laid just out of reach as she gasped for breath, lifting a shaky hand to push down on the bite on her side. Trying to stem the warm, sticky liquid that ran down her skin, her tattered uniform stained beyond repair now.