Frank was cautious. The mans voice sounded like he was enjoying the fact that Frank's hand was grabbing his butt. Frank let go of course, but he couldn't help thinking... perhaps too quickly.

Everything was quite hazy in the dark. Frank couldn't see a thing. He didn't know whether he was dreaming or this was, in fact, reality. The man was undetectable, but Frank could feel his grip around his shoulders, pinning him too the bed. He could also feel the dominant male's breath on his neck. Frank felt around in the dark for something more appropriate to grab hold of and throw off this strong, unmovable man.

"Ah.. Fuck." Frank panted in the dark. There was a crack of light coming from his window. The man held him even further down into the mattress so the Frank could feel the springs digging into his back. The smaller male squirmed while the older male brought his face into the light.

Everything was clear to Frank now. It was the murderer. The same murder he had seen just hours earlier. Murdering someone. Frank gulped, and his Adams apple bobbed against the blade. Frank could feel the trickle of blood down his collar bones, made more apparent by the breath of the murderer making it feel ice cold.

The murdered was somewhat majestic in features. He had pale, porcelain skin, white a sheet. He had a slight nose, and round, deep, hazel eyes. His eye lashes seemed to curl at a perfect angel. From what Frank could feel, his hands were big, with broad palms, and a wide hand span. His hair was long, at what looked like to be very matted. It was jet black, but at the roots it turned a dark shade of chocolate brown.

"I'm gonna say it again. Stay fucking still, or I will cut your throat." He spat the last words, making Frank noticeably aware of his coffee breath and little drops of spittle dropped on his cheeks.

Frank calmed, breathing deeply to calm his racing heart, and looked right into this man's eyes. Bad idea. Frank's heart thump thump thumped away in his chest, concealed by his ribs, which felt like they were about to break.

"Good. Now, you will get dressed, and get a couple of clothes together in a bag. Quietly. Do it," Gerard paused, reached into his pocket and revealed a gun, "or I'll shoot."

Frank's pupil's dilated at an alarming rate. The man's hand released it's death grip it had on the smaller males shoulder at Frank reached to rub it. He rolled out the side of his bed, and stood up. The taller male was standing right behind Frank, holding the gun to his head. Frank was feeling like a hostage in his own house - in fact, he was.

He blundered forward into the darkness, towards where he thought his wardrobe was. Frank walked a few steps and BANG! He stubbed his toe on the corner of his bed, causing some things to shake at an alarming noise level. Frank yelped out, trying to get hold of his foot, jumping around. The dominant's hand grabbed his shoulder and turned Frank around. "Shut the fuck up. Oh, and, try to be careful."

Frank sneered at that comment. He was shit scared of this person, but he still had the time to mock him. He was more shit scared of his mom waking up, walking in and getting shot - Frank could look after himself, but he knew he was powerless if his mom was added to the equation.

He eventually found a rucksack, and stuffed some of his best loved, and most comfortable clothes in their. Underwear, deodorant and soap were packed as commodities. "Um, I do wash, you know." The psycho murderer inputted. Frank rolled his eyes and carried on to find what he really wanted; his CD's and his band t-shirts were like the sun and sky to his life. He packed every shirt he could find, and gathered up a few of his favorite disks.

He got dressed with the mans back turned (after faithfully promising not to do a runner) and put his dirty clothes in the wash basket. He had enough time to put on his sneakers and wipe the blood off of his neck before the man dragged him to the window.

"Now, I'm gonna jump first, and I want you to follow me. If you don't..." he trailed off, amusing Frank would know what would happen. The man jumped from the window, effortless and quick, landing on his feet. He was obviously a pro. Frank turned back to face his room, his life as he knew it. He heard the gun being handled below, so he thought he better make his way. A silent good bye was said to his mom, and he jumped, landing on his behind.

"Good. You're going to have to get better at that though," the murderer said, and with that, he was taken at gunpoint (the murderer taking extra precautions to make sure Frank didn't run) and pushed Frank into a black van - well everything looked black this time of night. The man got in behind him, and quickly injected something into Frank's neck. Frank had no time to ask questions before his world went black.