"House of Wolves"

      Ashes to ashes, we all fall down.
Mikey jumped when he heard the thunder clap.  
"Relax, it's just thunder," His older brother, Gerard, reassured him.  
The brothers were walking home from school, taking their sweet time, seeing as how the rain hadn't started yet.  
"I wasn't scared, y'know.  Just surprised."
"Sure you were."
More thunder rolled in, and the sky blended into a darker, duller hue of gray.   On the thunder's cue, the rain poured down, suddenly and heavily with no warning.
The brothers began to run, their arms raised above their heads in a failed attempt to shield themselves from the downpour.  Their feet pounded hard on the slippery cement, and they slid a bit because of the water.
"Mikey, over there!" Gerard called.  He pointed to an old, broken bus stop.  The boards hung loosely on the hinges; the glass was shattered.  But there was a roof.  The two of them scampered out of the rain and into the shelter.  They caught their breaths and finally relaxed.  They were pretty wet, but not soaked.  
"Now what?" Mikey questioned.
"We wait until the rain stops."
So they waited.  The roof moaned over their heads.  The rain's power had it weak.  The brothers looked up at it with worried glances.  They knew the roof could give in any minute.  
It didn't take too long for a cloudy figure to appear in the distance.  It walked slowly. Not seeming to mind the rain.  As the silloughette neared, they could see it was a short teenager.  His hair was cut short on the sides and dyed blonde; down the middle of his head his hair was longer and black.  He had thick, black eyeliner bordering his eyes, wich were a greenish-brown color.  His skin was snowy pale.  His clothes were dark gray, almost black.  
"That thing isn't very sturdy, y'know," He pointed out, "Why don't you wait the rain out at my house.  It's close by."
The brothers didn't answer; he noticed they were unsure.
"I've got coffee," He bribed.
"Yes, we'll come!" The brothers sang in unison.
"I'm Frank, by the way."
"I'm Gerard and my brother is Mikey."
Frank led them to the forest behind them.  The trees shielded them from the rain, though Gerard worried about lightning striking the trees.
"I'm immune to electricity," Mikey bragged, "because toasters."
They arrived at a house in the middle of the woods.
It was so large, Gerard wondered he had never noticed it before.  He had been in those woods countless times before, each time exploring a new route.  The structure consisted of gothic architecture.  It was a deep indigo with a black staircase leading to the porch.  The paint was in a fairly good condition, although the house was old.  
Frank directed them to the immense, wooden door.  He removed an aged, rusty key from his pocket and twisted it in the keyhole.  The three boys entered the house.  The inside was even more grand than the exterior; it was a mix of Victorian and gothic style.  There was a black and white checkered tile floor; the walls were velvet red.  Two opposing twisted twin staircases winded to the second floor.
"Wooow!  Nice house" Mikey expressed, amazed.
"Yeah, awesome," Gerard agreed.
"Follow me this way to the dining room."
They followed him and sat at a glossy round, wooden table.  Frank walked into the kitchen, telling them sternly not to follow.  
"He's been gone a while, don't you think?" Gerard questioned, "I'll go see what's up."
"He said not to go in the kitchen," Mikey said.
You're such a baby, Mikey," Gerard got up and strolled into the kitchen.  
"Hey, wait!"  Mikey called.
Like a shadow, he followed his older brother.  When Gerard looked through the doorway, he froze.  
"Gerard?"Mikey peered over his brother's shoulder.  He too stopped cold.
"Holy coffee plant," Mikey gasped.
Frank was not making coffee.  He stood surrounded by gore, sharpening a silver blade.  Dry blood coated the floor, walls, and furniture.  The severed limbs were mangled and rotting.  How did they not notice the stench?  It was heavy and sickening; it choked the brothers, slowly stealing their air.  
"I told you not to come in here," Frank mumbled.
Frank's expression widened into an insane, twisted frown; his eyes bulged, and his veins popped.  He lunged forward, the knife threatening the brothers.  The blade dug into Mikey's chest, and he choked out a broken scream.  
"Mikey!" Gerard squeaked.  He dashed to his brother's side, desperately trying to make him breathe.  His face was drenched in tears, smearing his red eyeliner, and the salty sobs attached shoulder length black hair to his cheeks.  He shook his brother and shouted his name, but the breath didn't return.  Suddenly, Gerard felt a sharp object in his back.  The blade pierced his heart, evacuating all the air and ejecting blood out his mouth, letting it trickle down his chin.
Then black.  The living whispered to him goodnight, biding him farewell into Death's realm, letting go and leaving him stranded for an eternity in the abyss.

          END