Don't be a jerk. Try to love everyone. Give more than you take. And do it despite the fact that you only really like about 7 out of 500 people.

-Judd Apatow 

The Prince of Denmark-Chapter 8: Go On, I'll Follow

"The air is shrewd and bitingly cold," the ebony prince complained, scowling as he snuggled underneath the collar-line of his jacket in an attempt to shield his face from the wind.

"Yes, it's quite a nippy and eager wind, isn't it?" Horatio replied, himself shivering as well.

"What is the hour?" Hamlet inquired, growing steadily more impatient and agitated. The loud music and pungent smell of booze emanating from Elsinore's ballroom was not helping ease the prince's mood one bit.

"It is just shy of midnight, I believe," the blue hedgehog replied, taking note of his friend's dirty glances towards the raucous sounds originating from the grand ballroom.

"Non, it 'as already struck twelve," Marcellus piped up.

"Really?" Horatio quipped, "I heard it not over the clamor. So then, the hour that the ghost should appear is drawing nigh-"

Horatio was abruptly cut off as the royal trumpets blared their flourish-though sloppily, hinting at how intoxicated the players were-which was then followed by two loud BANGs as a pair of cannons were fired.

"What is the meaning of this, my lord?" the azure hedgehog asked, slightly alarmed by the sounds of flourish and ordnance.

Unfazed and further irked, Hamlet replied, "Placate yourself! It is but the sound of the king and his merry band of fools drinking and dancing the night away.

"Hear the musicians, they blare their trumpets and kettle-drums to celebrate his prodigious guzzling of German draughts," he snapped, rubbing his temples; he really was starting to get a migraine.

"Is it a custom?" Horatio asked.

"Marry, it is," the ebony prince sighed, "But to myself, though I am native to this land and its customs, I believe these traditions were better ignored rather than practiced. This rowdy revel gives other nations ammunition to traduce us, calling us drunkards and swine, and insulting our noble titles. Indeed, it does take a toll on our achievements, significant and great though they may be, and tarnishes our reputation.

"For so oft does it strike a few certain unfortunate, that for some anomaly of nature within them, placed upon them at birth (for which they are not at fault, since not a single individual can choose or control their origins), or for some abnormal habits are they looked upon with heavy judgement. It so happens that those who carry the stamp of one tiny defect, as wonderful and virtuous and talented and pure as grace though they may be otherwise, face the wrathful censure of everyone around them. As if the tiniest grain of evil towers over every single one of their most virtuous facets and casts deep shadows on all of their greatest achievements."

Hamlet's eyes then widened in shock as a ghostly figure suddenly appeared before the three men.

"Look, my lord," Horatio cried, pointing to the pearlescent apparition, "it comes!"

"Angels and ministers of grace, defend us!" the black hedgehog cried, crossing himself frantically, 

"Being either a spirit of health or a goblin damned, bringing either Heaven's breezes or blasts of Hellfire, here with intentions either wicked or charitable, you come in such a strange and bizarre shape that I have the burning desire to speak to you.

"I'll call you 'Hamlet,' 'King,' 'Father,' 'royal Dane.' O answer me! Let me not burst in ignorance, but declare to me why your canonized bones have burst through your coffin; why your tomb, where we have witnessed you being interred, has reopened its marble jaws and spat you out into the world of the living once more? What may this mean, that your corpse has 'taken up arms' yet again, catching glimpses of the moon, making the night hideously terrifying and we fools of nature to tremble in our boots, with thoughts of nothing but the domain beyond the reach of our souls? Why? What do you want from us?"

The Ghost said nothing, but motioned for a trembling Hamlet to come towards it.

"It beckons for you to go away with it," said Horatio, "It's as if it wishes to impart something to you and you alone."

"Look 'ow courteously it waves you toward more removed ground," Marcellus said shakily, "Do not go with it, s'il vous plait."

"No, by no means," the azure hedgehog interjected.

"But it will not speak otherwise. So, I shall follow it," the onyx hedgehog declared, at last regaining control over his trembling.

"Do not, my lord," Horatio replied vehemently.

"And why not?" the prince snapped, "What should be there for me to fear? I value my life no more than a murderer values the life of his victims. And as for my soul-well, a ghost cannot possibly do much to something as immortal as itself, can it? Look, it beckons to me to come forth again. I'll follow it."

"But what if it tempts you towards the sea?" the azure hedgehog shot back, "What if it draws you toward the summit of the cliff overhanging it, and once there, assume some horrible form to drive you mad? Think of it. The very place makes even the most level-headed of men feel despair to just look at the fathoms upon fathoms that is its depth, and to hear its roar beneath them."

"It still waves to me," Hamlet replied, all but ignoring Horatio's protests.

"Go on," the ebony prince bellowed to the Ghost, "I'll follow."

"You shall not go, sire," Marcellus crowed as he and the cobalt hedgehog began to restrain the prince.

"Let go of me!" Hamlet cried, desperately trying to break free from the combined grip of the other hedgehog and the coyote.

"Peace, my lord! You're not going anywhere," Horatio retorted.

"My fate cries out," the prince cried, a glint of madness and desperation in his eyes as he squirmed even more under the other men's unwavering grip, "and all the nerves in my body, have become as hardy as steel. Still, I am called. Unhand me gentlemen!"

Hamlet then manages to break free of his captors and quickly draws his sword, while the other two could do nothing but back away from him, for Prince Hamlet's name was near-legendary when it came to the art of swordfighting.

"By Heaven do I swear," he began, "I shall make a ghost of he who dares hold me back. Get away!

"Go on ahead," he repeated to the Ghost, "I'll follow."

And with that, the onyx hedgehog leaps off of the battlement, landing neatly on the snow-flecked ground below. The pale apparition then drifts further away, with the ebony prince in tow.

"He waxes desperate and insane with imagination," Horatio pipes up, alarmed at the sudden turn of events.

"Let us follow zem," Marcellus replied, "It is not right to obey 'is order to leave 'im be."

"Go ahead," the azure hedgehog said, "But to what will this all lead to? When will it end?"

"Somesing is rotten in ze state of Denmark," the sentry replied darkly.

"Then let us let Heaven direct it then," the hedgehog retorted.

"Non," Marcellus declared, drawing his sword, "let us follow 'im."

---

A/N: I guess I should put a disclaimer here so I don't get shot at or kidnapped by The Copyright SWAT team or something. I own not a single cell of any of the Sonic characters used in this story, SEGA and/or Archie Comics do. Also, the story of Hamlet is not owned by me either, although no one really knows who owns it and therefore can take credit for being the original author because Shakespeare's scripts of it are but his own stage adaptation of an ancient story/stories whose origins and credibility are still being debated today.

If you can't dazzle them with your brilliance, baffle them with your bullshit!

-Unknown 

Success isn't defined by the dollar, my friend. It is defined by happiness.

-Jan Rae Licmo 

Either write something worth reading, or do something worth writing.

-Benjamin Franklin 

 

If nobody hates you, you're doing something wrong.

-Hugh Laurie as Dr. Gregory House, House M.D. (2004-2012)

The Hallowed Light of Home

None take notice

of the lamp that swings,

a guiding light

even on the darkest night,

stagger forward

with a shiver in your spine,

as wind whips and

the sounds of horror

abound.

Up and down,

orange and black,

the smell of cavities

and cheap

dollar store make-up.

And all around,

all you see

are the ghosts

and the monsters,

the witches

and all manner of damned characters.

But you remain resilient,

and push forward,

searching,

determinedly seeking out 

the light that leads home.

Happy (belated) Halloween, you candy-crazy beasts.