Set in a perfect,loving suburb of New Jersey, this is a story about trying to find a hand to hold onto in the dark. Full of mystery & horror & MAYBE a little romance..... [mainly a frank fic]
second chapter, hope you like!
i've got some exciting stuff planned :)
The driver and Frank were friends. They had known each other for a long time, a very long time. His name was Gerard, and he was like Frank. His car was black on the outside and black on the inside. He had a cross hanging from his rear view mirror instead of dice, which was a symbol of the organisation. As usual, Gerard was smoking and had the window open, causing the chill to drift inside.
"Gerard," Frank said in a slightly husky, deep voice. He turned and looked at Gerard, raising one eyebrow.
"Frank..." Gerard replied, taking a drag of his cigarette.
"Window?" Frank said as he rummaged around in his bag.
"Why?" He replied, his eyes fixed on the road.
"Because. Because it's fucking freezing." Frank said, wrapping his arms around his stomach in response to the cold.
"Fine. Let me finish this off then," Gerard sharply said.
The atmosphere was not at all pleasant. Frank knew why, and so did Gerard. The car was quiet apart from the whilstle of the wind and the screeching on the windscreen wipers as they tried in vain to clear the screen. The car smelt of smoke and Frank breathed in, inhaling the remnants of Gerard's cigarette. His stomach was turning and tying itself in knots, he felt sick. Unusually, Gerard felt the same uncomfortable feeling. He loved his job, hell he enjoyed it. He was prepared to sacrifice anything for it, but this nite did not feel like any other nite.
"Have you brought them?" Gerard asked Frank in a slightly business-like manner.
"Brought what?" Frank asked him, his voice slightly lost in his sleeve, which he had near his mouth.
"The papers damnit, Frank." Gerard never shouted at Frank. Well, he did, but only if he was anxious.
Frank was staring out of the window, watching the houses and lights melt into one giant concotion of confusion. He was dreading meeting the others at the back of the Academy. He hated the back of clubs, but this was horrible. It was where everything had been put into play, where it all started. He replayed walking down to meet the others in his head. The dimly lit corner where they greeted each other, the half torn band posters which were mounted on the grimey brick walls.
"FRANK." Gerard shouted as he swerved the car around the corner.
"Oh, yeah," Frank replied, mumbling, his hands sweaty. He bent down and fetched a brown file out of his bag. He stared at it for a while, his eyes glued to the front page as if he couldn't let go of his stare.
"How many?" Gerard asked as he sighed, still sustaining his angry tone.
"Just the one," Frank replied, his voice full of disgust.
"One?" Gerard spat in disbelief.
"One more to add to our list." He took a deep breath. "Fucking code."
Gerard turned and looked at Frank as if he had said something extremely hateful.
"Fucking code?" He shouted. "Without the code you'd be nothing, and you know it."
The code. It was something Frank, Gerard and the others lived by. The code was like their Bible, except unlike the actual Bible, the code consisted of one phrase. That phrase had replayed on Frank's mind a thousand times since last year. He couldn't erase that one phrase. 'Revenge - Adelleda Vendetta'.
"Frank?" Gerard asked him as his voice sounded more approachable.
Frank didn't reply. He continued looking at the file he held in his hands. He desparately wanted to look inside, but something inside him stopped him from doing so.
"I'm sorry for bringing it up," he paused. "C'mon. We're nearly here, let's just do what we do every nite."
Again, Frank stared blankly at the file.
"C'mon, Man. You used to love it, you still do."
oh but WHAT does he love?!