Prologue

A Chapter by Josh Trew

This is the prologue where the antagonist and tone are both established.

Prologue

Crash!

George woke with a start and jumped out of bed. The lack of light stopped him from seeing his acne ridden face, his scruffy back hair and his tall, lean shape in the mirror next to his bed. He quickly put some pyjamas on and stumbled over the mess in his room to rush into his parents room.

“Mum, Dad!” George got no response. Not even a snore. He was scared by the silence. His dad was known for his loud snoring. His eyes were just now getting used to the dark, so he went over and looked at his parents. They were motionless. He crept closer towards them. “Mum, Dad!” Still no movement. George went up to the head of the bed. Shock, fear and upset came from the bottom of his gut and came out of his mouth.Vomit flew from his throat and covered what he saw.

His mum and dad had both been shot in the head.

George had a horrifying thought. He never heard the front door being opened or shut. The back door could have been used, but that makes just as much noise, plus there are multiple fences to jump over. Whoever did this must still be in the house. George went to rush down stairs before he remember what his dad had told him.

“Don’t let anybody know what you can do.”

He turned back and grabbed his BB shotgun from behind his cupboard. His bullet collection was empty when he finished loading his weapon. The teen took to the stairs, bolting down before setting his sights on the horrors that awaited him. Six men in balaclavas and body armour, leaving their necks open but everywhere else covered, and a woman dressed in all black leather and black high heels. Each intruder had a silenced semi-automatic pistol and a knife sheathed on their waste. The woman had black hair in a ponytail, along with bright blue eyes and an envious figure.

“Get the freak, boys.” As the woman barked the order, all six men aimed their guns at George. The next second felt like an hour. They must know, otherwise they wouldn’t have called him a freak. He dropped his BB gun and let loose the reason they called him a freak.

George shot seven spikes from the end of his fingertips. None of them his his attackers anywhere. The men ran at him, making George run back up to his bedroom. He could hear the following him as he ran to the door at the end of the hallway. He ran into his room and locked the door behind him. As he avoided the junk on the floor to get to the window, multiple bullets came through the door and hit the wall above his bed. Boots started to come through the door as he scrambled to get the window open. It collapsed in, splinters scattering all over the floor. Two of the men charged in to find out that George had jumped and was now nowhere to be seen. The men looked out of the window.

“Hey freak show! Get your a*s back here!” The man who shouted this had hoped for a response but got nothing. George poked his finger out from his neighbour's bush. He shot two spikes from his finger. One of them hit one of the men directly in the eye, while the other one completely missed.

“What the f**k!” The man remaining at the window grabbed his gun and aimed frantically. He had no clue where to aim. George lined up the second shot and fired. Direct hit. The man fell back, dead. Just as George sighed a sigh of relief, the other men barged into his room.

“S**t!” George swore under his breathe. They hadn’t been looking elsewhere as he’d hoped. Suddenly, his front door flew open and out came the woman, toting her pistol and brandishing her knife.

“Come out, you god damned freak! Come out and fight me!” The woman had no clue where he was. George had a plan. He shot the upstairs bathroom window with a spike and ran. The spike had shattered the glass, attracting the attention of the woman. This had only been for a second however. As soon as he had started running, the woman had immediately heard him and fired multiple bullets at him. None of them hit him. “Damn!” The woman began to pursue him. George was a quick teenager, but the woman still caught up to him rather quickly. When she was about ten meters back, she fired another round. George felt the back of his knee explode. The bullet penetrated straight through and landed in his line of sight. He fell forward, grazing his face and his arms.

“F**K!” George screamed in pain. He had turned enough to face his attacker. “YOU B***H!” He unleashed multiple spikes with surprisingly good accuracy. They all missed however. The woman was teleporting away from each spike effortlessly. This happened until she was standing on top of him. She pulled out a test tube from her jacket pocket and took some blood from his wound. As she took it, pain shot up George’s body. He let out an agonising scream of pain. The woman stood back up and cocked her gun.

“Any last words, you mutant freak?”

“Who the f**k are you?” His words were distorted by his tears of pain.

“You can call me Grace.” BANG! George’s brains scattered all over the tarmac he was laying on. Grace pocketed the test tube of blood and began to walk away. She stopped and looked back at George. “That’s one less mutant to collect.”