Battery City Boys

It was a quiet night, 8:37 p.m., to be exact. November 22, 2016. Frank Iero and his younger brother had just finished their homework when it happened.

It sounded like it was just a simple car crash, to begin with. Their mother and father knew better, though. The adults sent the siblings around the house, telling them to pack their things and get to the shelter.

They knew better than to argue.

They had done this a thousand times, after all.

Get to the basement. Close the door. Find the panic room. Get inside and shut the door. Don't open the door for anyone, even if it's mom and dad. Stay there until the coast is clear, or until it's quiet.

They had done it before, and the teenagers did it again. Taking his brother's hand, Frank led them down the stairs, and shut the door behind them. Walking over to the secluded corner of their dry basement, Frank, with help from Adrian, managed to move the storage container that hid the entrance. He helped his brother get in, then pulled the container back to cover their hiding spot.

Inside of the panic room, it was clean. There was an emergency kit they had made months prior to the war, that held a fire extinguisher, several med kits, and extra blankets. A bunk bed was on the opposite wall. There were also cabinets, counters, and a small container of emergency oxygen, in case they became stuck and couldn't get out for a certain period of time. The cabinets and counters were filled with boxes of non-perishable foods, water bottles, and other drinks. Matches, candles, and flashlights with extra batteries, in case the power went out.

It wasn't home, but it was good enough.

Setting his bag next to one of the counters, Frank went to sit next to his sibling on the lower bunk, where he was currently biting his nails. It was a nervous habit he had gained over the years.

Frank knew that he was worrying about their parents, and he was also, he always was. He knew that they'd be okay, though. He knew that it was just a false alarm, and it was really just a car accident on the road, but it was better to be safe than sorry, his dad always said.

How wrong the poor boy was.

Not even ten minutes after they had left the upstairs portion of their house, Frank heard the front door being kicked in. Adrian looked up at the ceiling, his eyes wide with fear. He looked towards his brother, who took his hand in his own, for comfort.

They stayed there. Sitting. Watching. Waiting with baited breaths for the okay that would never come.

And then, shouting. So much shouting.

The sound of gunshots rang through the entire house, and an ominous feeling washed over Frank Iero and his younger brother.

Frank listened with horror as his parents started to scream. Agonizing, pleading voices that used to be filled with so much hope, happiness, love, and....

And now it was the most horrifying to hear.

Adrian, knowing he couldn't do anything to help, had begun rocking himself, holding his legs in his arms, head in his lap, as he began crying. Frank, looking over to his brother and, seeing his bravery crumble to nothing, began to cry, as well. It was one of the rare times that he ever cried.

After a while, the shouting stopped.
So did the gunshots.

But the two siblings were quiet. They had to be. Any noise at all could attract the bad men into their hiding spot.

And so they wept in silence.

Notes

I'm back with new ideas, new people to kill off, and a lot more maturity than I had before I left.

So, good news!

I will be continuing with this story, it may not always be third person, I may switch to first, but I doubt that. I also plan on a schedule for this summer, where I will write on certain days, and update my stories on others. So, I will be organized to write and have to follow my own orders!

Question of the Day/Night:
What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs during the afternoon, and three legs at night?

Until we meet again!

Sweet Horrors And Terrible Nightmares
XOXO
Screaming Tears
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