4 – The Glow.

Bart weaved past the gathering onlookers of the lunar eclipse, head lowered and staring at the ground. He didn't know what seized him to rush homeward, but he just had to get home straight away.

It was almost as if, he could sense a sort of peril about to happen.

In his absentmindedness, Bart collided with a person who was running his direction. He felt his head hit someone's chin, and he heard the sound of a heavy bag hitting the ground. Realizing he had inconvenienced someone, the boy straightened up to face the person he hit.

"I'm sorry! I wasn't looking."

"I.. It's alright."

It was someone who was roughly Bart's age - only that he seemed several inches taller. He had a shaved head on one side and long dark hair that grew to his eyes on the other, metal rings on his ears, and sharp blue eyes. He wore faded black clothing from the jacket, t-shirt to the baggy pants below.

<He looks like a street punk,> Bart said to himself. Then again, he slightly shook his head. He was in no position to judge.

"You.. okay, bro? You look like you're in a hurry to get away from here," said the guy as he looked around. He lifted the bag that fell with both hands. "Aren't you going to celebrate the Black Cross Festival with, well.. the rest of the town?"

The question was something he didn't expect. Bart glanced at the people. He watched as their faces, glowing under the street lights and illumination of the floats that were about to roll down the streets, lit up in delight.

It was a setting that he never really had growing up.

The thought about his parents immediately crossed his mind. And not a second after... the grisly scene of them dead..

Bart's grip on the straps of his bag tightened.

"I'm.. not really a fan of crowds."

"That so? That must be tough for you," said the guy who smiled in a way that Bart could see as concern. In a way, Bart's apprehensiveness towards this stranger melted. The guy went towards a vacant wall and seemed to rest his back on it.

"Man.. I haven't had a good amount of shut -eye these past few days. It's a miracle that I haven't collapsed while carrying this bag."

"Y.. You sure look like you're a busy bee." Bart stated. The guy smirked as he closed his eyes, as though he was trying to think.

"Yeah.. been bringing around some stuff from here to hitherto for my family," the guy admitted. "Think I'm slaving away too much for them?"

"Oh no.. I think it's admirable," Bart replied. "You.. have a family that you work hard for."

<Unlike me.>

Bart didn't mean to think that way - but the idea simply gripped him from out of nowhere. Thankfully, it never escaped his lips. The guy smiled at him.

"Thanks. Never thought I'd hear encouraging words from a stranger." The guy extended a free hand to Bart. "Let's change that. Name's Mortimer. Mort for short."

"Bartholomew" Bart shook the hand gingerly. "Bart, for short."

"We got pretty long and dumb names, eh?"  Mort said as he elbowed Bart on the rib. Bart leaked a nervous chuckle.

"Oh. Guess it's starting."

Bart watched as the glow of the decorated floats started to touch every unlit corner. The Parade had begun and the simultaneous lighting of decorations on every household and establishment followed. People from all parts of the city cheered. There was a warm atmosphere looming in the air.

And for that moment, being there gave Bart ease. His tensed shoulders lowered.. and he stood up to listen to the sounds of Catholic hymns filling the air, courtesy of the church choir.

"Well, someone wasn't being truthful the first time."

Bart looked on to Mort, who was grinning from ear to ear. Bart sheepishly dropped his head. "It's... a first for me."

"Well, you never know how things are until you try them." Mort suddenly looked at his wrist, which had a time-worn silver watch on it. "Oh. Time's almost up," he said as he turned and slung his bag on his back. "Be seeing you later, dude."

Mort shuffled away, waving his hand. Second later he disappeared in the thickening crowd, leaving Bart to stare at where he last saw the guy's back.

It had been a while since any person stuck around to talk to him.

<Though it was mostly the other guy doing the talking.>

Scoffing at the thought, Bart decided he was needed elsewhere -

--until something rung clear into his ear and made him stop in his tracks.

....

.....

....

The cheering crowd.. and the Catholic hymns.. distorted into a melancholic lul.

The hazy light stung his eyes.

The lunar eclipse-moon turned a violent red.

Everything around him was changing.. and it was making him sick.

In horror, Bart tried to call for help. Nothing came out of his throat. He couldn't even move.

Bart felt a tingle grow on his left hand. He glanced at it..and realized something was rapidly developing before his eyes.

His palm had caught fire.

<This... isn't a dream.>

Bart gagged, horror-stricken. He was reeling at the pain of his flesh melting away. The flames grew hotter... brighter.. enveloping his hands and casting a malevolent, hellish glow. 

The pain... the unimaginable pain.. it wasn't all in his head.

<This is real.>

<This IS REAL.>

<THIS IS REAL.>

As the fire engulfed his entire hand.. his throat had opened. People finally turned to see him.

They witnessed him scream.

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!"

....

The world around Bart dimmed. All he could remember was fainting.. and being welcomed with deathly silence.

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NOTE: And thus, concludes the first part of the horror. Wonder how it is to catch one's hand ablaze? I couldn't even imagine. I hope you guys be patient. There's more to come, and I tell you, things are about to get hairy, yo. xD