A certain visitor comes to visit Gerard and an unexpected situation arises...
I heard banging on the front door and I instantly awoke from my sudden daze of dreams and the dream-like state that I would normally go into at around three in the morning. I would normally stay up until four am, because that was normally when the zombies would die out again and return to their normal habitats in the dark and in the slums.
"Help me!!" I faintly heard as I approached up the stairs from the basement, raising an eyebrow high. I could see arms banging on the door and my first thought was that it was a zombie and out of instinct I grabbed my gun from the corner, raising it up and aiming. "HELP!!" They screamed again, "anybody please!!!" They sounded so helpless and scared that it instantly made my heart melt and everything inside of me turned to mush. I was a human being, not an emotionless soldier who only killed.
I ran to the door and looked through the keyhole, immediately opening the door and dragging the boy inside, practically throwing him down to the floor again before I locked the door up tightly and made sure that nothing was going to come through it. I turned towards the boy on the floor who was quivering away and trying to move away on the ground into the corner. I put my gun to the side and took out a knife from my pocket, pinning his wrists to the wall and leaning in closer to him.
"Who are you?" I asked, my voice was much softer than I intended it to be, but the terrified look in his eyes was enough to make me seem nice. I needed to know who he was and whether or not he was infected, that my first priority.
"F-F-Frank I-Iero!" He yelped out and I lowered my knife to try and ease him a little. His eyes squeezed tight shut and he cried out in pain, tears started to fall down his face as he shook with fear.
"Are you one of them?" I asked gently and leaned in closer to him, practically touching his ear with my lips as I spoke.
"N-no! I was trying to run a-away from t-them!" He said loudly, still looking away in the other direction so that he didn't have to look at me, still terrified. I let go of his wrists and he instantly clutched them to his chest and rubbed them gently, coughing a little and running a hand through his black hair that was far too long and looked like it needed cutting desperately.
His ragged black jeans had multiple holes and cuts in them and the same went for his dark denim jacket, almost black. I frowned and he placed a hand to his knee, pulling it away again and wincing slightly when he saw blood. I noticed it too and shook my head. God he really needed sorting out.
"How old are you?" I asked, looking him up and down again, he looked about my age, maybe younger.
"17," [okay, I know that he's actually 4 years younger than Gerard but still...For the purpose of this story he's 17, it'd be weird if he was 14...AWW 14 YEAR OLD FRANKIE!