On that particular day, no-one had even questioned why there was a small, very red postbox outside the cathedral. Infact it had just been considered the norm, it would be considered the norm for many years to come. It was one of those in-between days; it was a cold, grey day. Threatening rain, perhaps even hail if the cold kept up. The sky was decidedly colourless in it's mid-afternoon state; perhaps the sunset would bring it a better spectrum of colour.
Inside the arcane building a young male wandered. His gaze was firmly fixed on the floor as he wandered. There was something
strange about this particular fellow, it wasn't really anything to do with his appearance; in those terms he was very average, dark, lank hair hung just below his ears, he was very pale too, he wore a dark coloured coat- much too big for his spindly frame. Wrapped around his head was a faded burgundy scarf; he kept tripping over it as he walked. Muttering several curses underneath his breath.
He wasn't sure where he was going. There was an eventual aim- to find something to help his mother, she could fix everything then they'd go looking for his father. It has a crazy, childish dream. Full of impossibilities and stuff he'd thought of as a very young child. He couldn't yet be called and adult; his mannerisms and his frame both pointing that out with alarming regularity, his
colourful language and his height pointing out the fact he wasn't a child either.
The nameless boy, (he's never been given a name as a child. He was patiently waiting for his mother to think of one) was infact an angst ridden teenager. Perhaps had he spent time near the Evelonian Preservation Zoo, he'd probably be followed around by a couple of angst balls. One could almost see their flappy wings and gormless, purple faces flying around his head as he walked.
Lost in thought, (mainly due to wondering if the purple things flying around his head were going to materialize any time soon) the boy didn't notice a figure hiding in the shadows. To be quite frank he wasn't exactly hiding; just biding his time. As the teen walked past him, the man leapt swiftly grabbing the teen from behind. A syringe clasped in the man's hands, inside it a silver liquid swirled; HG or mercury as it is better known.
The boy was left for dead among the the darker part of the dark building. Many years passed before anyone even ventured that deep into the cathedral again. It was many more years before anything of any vague importance happened; unless you could count the post box outside swallowing it's 9000th letter as important.
(Title fail, sorry for the wait, and I'm working on his human form as I type. xP)