Frigid air brushes against her face as she wakes up in a room she is unfamiliar with. The walls seem steel, the floor of marble, and the lights are obfuscated to an opaque blue. She remains sedated as she looks around herself in the ague, recondite room. She attempts to stand up, but is tied tightly into an antique-looking chair.
        "Juliet, you've been fastened in the bottom of a Catholic church in San Fransisco." an austere man states from across the room. She can see smoke rising from a cigar that rests in his left hand. She concentrates on his feet that tap repetitively to a certain beat.
        "Do you not wish to speak to me?" he asks with a slight grin. Juliet remains stationary, making an endeavor to focus on the man in the corner. He flicks the ash from the end of his cigar onto the floor and stands up. His boots clap against the hard floor as he saunters closer to her. He carries a black duffel-bag with him and sets it atop a bantam end-table. He pivots and glides to the chair she is bound to, moving in elegant patterns that a dancer would. He positions his face close to hers, glaring downward at a diagonal direction.
        "Don't fret, precious, I'm here." he whispers to her with jagged teeth and rancid breath. He smiles and blows numerous smoke rings into her face, causing her to cough faintly. His face stiffens and his eyes widen, showing Juliet the wicked face she attempted to hide from. He raises his hand and violently hits her across the face. Her head swings rightward, sending the clip in her hair across the room onto the tile floor. She turns her head back to face his, showing the pitiful villain her cobalt-blue eyes. Silence takes over the room and every slight movement is being watched. The man begins to heavily breathe, nostrils flaring and eyes swiftly moving. He turns around and begins to walk towards the door.
        "Romeo, Romeo, where for art thou, Romeo?" she orates through her clenched teeth. He pauses in position and turns around to face Juliet.
        "Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet." she speaks with a smile stretches across her pale face. He begins to walk towards her, fists in ball-formations and sweat dripping down the sides of his face. He positions himself in front of her again, looking at the adolescent girl in fury and hatred.
        "Why, sir, why do you fight the night?" Juliet asks puerile-like. His lips quiver as he bites the insides of his cheeks.
        "Why fight the night when you can stun the sun?"
        Her tone of voice begins to grow more sinister as she speaks, causing the man to assume that he is losing his mentality to a child. He places his hands on the arms of the chair she is fixed into, easily releasing breathes of composure. The longer he stares into her petrified pupils, the more he believes that they are upsurging and taking over the sky-painted iris. Her head remains stock-still, a frozen fixture that is releasing frequent glares of cryptic meaning.
        "You look forlorn, dear compatriot, is there something the matter?" she asks derisively. He quickly backs up and walks to the duffel-bag. He pulls out a mediocre-sized plank of wood and walks back with it held in his right hand.
        "I'm sure you're inelegant enough to know that you shouldn't attempt to play mind-games with a malevolent criminal." he asks, slowly rubbing the willow-scrap weapon against the side of her face.  She turns her head and looks at the ceiling as if she is trying to find something.
        "Remember when you were a child," she asks, "and your grandmother would hold your hand and sing to you?" His face appears blank, waiting for something to happen. She looks back at him with bloodshot eyes and luminescent irises.
        "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know dear, how much I love you. So please don't take, my sunshine away."
        He begins to wobble left-and-right, eyes falling out of focus. She picks up the cigar he left on the arm of the chair and candidly stands up. He backs up into the wall as he vigorously hyperventilates. She takes a small lighter out of her pocket and lights the cigar up, taking an inhale of it. She walks over to the man and crudely blows a smoke ring directly into his face.
        She pulls up the sleeves of her jacket, revealing carved letters all across her arms. On the left arm it reads Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, and Pride, on the right arm it has Chastity, Temperance, Charity, Diligence, Patience, Kindness, and Humility.
        "I'm sure you're smart enough to know that you shouldn't play any game with a maniacal being." Juliet says, slowly rubbing her palms together. He falls onto the floor, descending into a melancholy state. She gets down on one knee and pets his head.
        "Don't fret, beloved, I'm here," she whispers, "But, there is one virtue we forgot on my list." She stands up and walks to the duffel-bag, searching through it thoroughly. She pulls out a canister that contains gasoline and opens the top.
        "Justice".
        He remains frozen and stagnant on the marble bottom as she pours the liquid onto him. She takes the rope she cut from the chair and firmly ties his hands and feet together. She flicks the lighter on and sets it upon the wet floor.
        "Do you not wish to speak to me, Clayton?" she asks. Silence dominates the room as the flames run up and down his halcyon body. She steps into the open doorway and takes one last glance of the blazing room.
        "Someday, this day, set the ferris wheel ablaze."