Monday 10 a.m. October 3rd

The chattering of his own teeth and a splitting pain in his head is what finally woke Vergil. A sprinkling of white debris coated his body, and he appeared to be lying halfway outside. He attempted to grab a portion of the broken wall to pull himself up to a standing position, but a shooting pain in his right shoulder stopped him in his tracks. The same maneuver but with his left side did the trick and Vergil stood inside the hole his body had made trying to remember how he had gotten there. That's it I'm finally quitting, he thought to himself completing his morning ritual.

Vergil flipped on the lights and got the furnace going. He still had a couple of weeks before they shut off the gas and electric might as well use them while he had the chance. He opened the refrigerator that used to house Junior Mints and Charleston Chews and got hit with a wave of nostalgia. Boy I need a drink. The carton of eggs and the bag of cheese he'd bought the other day were starting to feel light, and so was his wallet. Vergil rubbed his hands together briskly and then placed them over the still preheating grill for an extra bit of warmth. He cracked a couple of eggs on the grill and was comforted by the sizzling of the oil mingling with the eggs. The two eggs and cheese were an omelette in no time. Over the years working the drive-in, he'd perfected the art of hangover omelettes.

Without even having to think about it, Vergil tore off a chunk of the omelette for Jerry. He opened the broom closet that Jerry called home, but the mouse was nowhere to be found. A pang of worry spiked in Vergil's mind. Jerry never missed his morning omelette. For the last two years, whenever Vergil opened in the mornings, Jerry had always been there patiently waiting for Vergil to wake up and give him his meal regardless of how late he slept in. Could the mouse have died or even worse could he have just gotten sick of Vergil and left like everyone else? Stray piece of white debris and a hole in the wall supported that conclusion, but the hole was about three times the size of Jerry. He would've thought that something dug through and made him a midnight snack, but no predator would spend the time to dig through a wall just to get a mouse. Regardless, Jerry was gone now, Vergil was really craving a drink, and the fridge was empty.

It was time to greet the day. Vergil strapped on his backpack, threw on some sunglasses, and hopped on his bike. His left leg protested in agony when he tried to get himself going. It felt as if he'd gone through an intense leg workout, but only on one side of his body. What did I do last night?

He normally tried his best to get off the grounds as soon as possible. The emptiness was too much for him to bear especially in the mornings. He hadn't had time yet to put up his emotional barriers in the AM. Today however, he saw something that gave him pause. Dead birds dotted the grounds of the drive-in. He remembered the disappearance of Jerry and decided to investigate. A vibrant, crimson splotch dominated the chest of the first bird he approached. It was a sleek, black raven staring sightlessly into the sky. I'm no expert on bird facial expressions, but this bird looks horrified. Bones jutted from its chest as if they'd been ripped open in reckless abandon to get at whatever was within. Vergil steeled himself and examined its chest cavity. His lunch splashed at his feet. It had been completely cleaned; the guts scooped out like a Jack O'Lantern. Vergil decided he'd had enough for the morning and had only been conscious for thirty minutes. He almost left his bike behind in his panic to get off the grounds.

Gold's Gym was only a couple miles from the theater, but today it felt a lot longer. Saul's Crown Vic was in the parking lot which meant Vergil was in the clear. Saul Gutierrez had been the closest thing to a father Vergil had ever known which meant he slept in his mother's bed from time to time. His own wife had been taken from him by an inoperable glioblastoma, so they used each other as temporary reprieve from their loneliness. After she died too, Saul took pity on Vergil and let him shower and work out for free. Sorry you don't have a mom anymore, but hey here's a free gym membership as a consolation prize.

Vergil limped into the gym, the soreness in his leg reminding him of its existence with every step. He'd hoped he could slip in and escape Saul's signature look of sadness and pity that he always wore when he was looking at Vergil, but he had no such luck. Saul stood at the desk like a sentinel sculpted by the Gods themselves. He had a gel-encrusted helmet of hair like a character straight out of The Outsiders and tribal tattoos snaking up both of his arms neither of which looked out of place on his muscular frame. In fact, it's like that style was made for Saul, and everyone else who did it was a pale imitation to the real thing. A patron of the gym wearing a wife beater accompanied with a healthy portion of armpit fat approached Saul, probably with some inane question about what workout would give them abs, so Vergil made a hobbling break for the locker room.

"Vergil, wait up a minute. I have something I want to ask you," Saul boomed unintentionally setting off a spike of pain courtesy of his hangover.

"Saul, if it's about the job, let's just skip it today," Vergil groaned.

"Would you stop being a punk and just hear me out?" the big man asked in a kind tone that annoyed Vergil to no end.

"Fine," he said reluctantly.

Vergil took a seat on one of the leather chairs by the front desk and covered his eyes from the glare of the fluorescent lights. When armpit guy finally wandered off, Saul turned his signature look on Vergil.

"I know you're living at the theater," he said.

"And?" I asked.

"And, you're twenty four years old going on thirty five. You're killing yourself, and I'm not watching it anymore. You're going to work here and come live with me until we get you back on your feet. I've got a spare room that my daughter uses when she's here, but that's just collecting dust. Karen'd kill us both if she knew how you're living." he said with a smirk probably remembering her famous wrath when they acted like "macho men" as she called it.

Saul's words stirred something in Vergil. Did Saul actually care about him? No, he put on a good show, but at the end of the day, he just felt guilty. "Stop worrying, your obligation to my mother is over. You don't need to pretend that you care anymore."

A startled look mixed with a dash of anger stole across Saul's face, and Vergil turned his back so that he wouldn't have to look at it. Saul may have been a condescending jock, but he was a good guy. He cared about Karen in his own way, but she was gone now. Before Vergil could escape into the locker room, Saul said something that stopped him in his tracks.

"Hey smartass, if I don't care about you, then why am I taking you out to O'Connell's and buying you drinks?"

Vergil thought about his empty fridge and said, "I've got a busy schedule. I'll see if I can pencil you in.," he paused for a second and continued, "looks like I'm free from now until the end of time."

"O'Connell's at 10," Saul said, and Vergil entered the locker room hiding a smile.

The cleansing heat of a locker room shower was a feeling that Vergil had grown to love. He could almost feel it burning a layer of skin away. Toxins that had accumulated in his body washing down the drain. Today, the feeling reached a point that it was almost orgasmic in its intensity. The heat didn't stop with the cleansing of his skin. He could feel it seep into his body. The energy flowed into his system the way someone would feel a hot drink sliding down their esophagus. It travelled to his sore left leg and washed away soreness in its rushing torrent. A mental image of his body as a vessel filling up with violet energy dominated his mind. Vergil hadn't felt this good in a long time.

SaintCole here!

The last POV is finally here. Vergil is a character that is very special to me, although he is depressing to write.

Ladies and gentlemen boys and girls children of all ages. Please vote!

Thoughts and comments. What is happening to birds? Where is Jerry? Is Vergil too hard on Saul?