Evidence

Virgin mary

Manson came back up from his journey downstairs for supplies. He emerged from the staircase cradling a bottle of La Fee in one arm, and a bag of cheetos in the other.

"Nothing like Absinthe and cheetos!" Manson joked. I looked from him to the shotgun sitting next to him.

"Because alcohol and firearms are always an award-winning combination!" I added.

"Ha ha, very funny," Manson replied, "the truth is that it's not loaded, I was hoping to just scare them off with it."

"What if they're not scared?"

"Then, I'll beat them up with my own two hands!" Manson said, while rummaging through a cabinet. He came out with a shot glass, a box of sugar cubes, and a vintage Blue Oyster Cult Lighter, via the 1970's. I smiled, and he filled the shot glass with his absinthe of choice. Then, I watched and he lit a sugar cube on fire, let it disolve on his tongue, then washed it down with his green fairies.

"And if the gun doesn't work, and you're too drunk to fight?"

"Oh, I'm never too drunk to fight," Manson assured me.

"Can I have some?" I asked boldly.

"hah!" He replied, then repeated the ritual all over again, "you'll ruin the La Fee."

"How would I ruin it?"

"You wouldn't let the sugar cube disolve, or you'd burn it too much, I don't know. The point is, I may not look like I have morals, but I do, so don't even try to convince me to let you partake in illegal activities." I remembered something that I had learned on the internet.

"But, I have partaken in illegal activities before," Manson laughed at me again.

"Oh please, you're so innocent you make the Virgin Mary look like a hussy!" I raised an eyebrow at the last word, then I decided to just let it go.

"I read somewhere that it was illegal for a minor to run away. And, I have done that three times for you, and five times for my old parents."

"Oh you, Leonore! That's only for your own safety. The government puts bans on what I do because they don't want kids to grow up to be different, or individuals or whatever."

Just then, we heard a crash downstairs. Manson set down his glass and rushed to bolt the door.

"If they figure out that we're up here," I whispered,"we'll be trapped."

"It's probably just Aleister." Manson said.

"Then, why did you lock the door?" I asked.

"I don't know," Manson said, stuboborn to admit that I was right for once, "I'm drunk!"

"Yeah, I've heard that one before," Manson shushed me, and we both turned our attention to downstairs. I could hear footsteps and hushed whispers, but I didn't know if Manson could because he didn't seem all that worried. I rushed over to him and shook him.

"Don't you hear that?" I hissed in his ear, "the same people who took Miranda are coming for us!" He looked at me, startled.

"What did you hear?" He demanded, "I can't hear anything, too many concerts and exposure to large amps I guess. Oh yeah, and screeching teen girls." I smacked him.

"This is no time for jokes!" I yelled, "they're here to kill us! I heard footsteps, lots of them, and whispers!" Manson realized how serious the situation was and gulped down the rest of his absinthe.

"Leonore, if they come up here, go down the secret staircase without me."

"I don't want to leave you!" I yelled. He shushed me again.

"You have to," he said,"I don't want them to hurt you. I can't defend the both of us." I sighed.

"What if they take just you?" I started crying, as the footsteps got closer.

"Go, Leonore!" he yelled.

"Not without you!" I tried to tug him by his shirtsleeve to the secret staircase exit. As I did so, the door burst open. He picked me up and threw me down the stairs, for real this time. I went tumbling down backwards, so I saw him duck behind some boxes in the back of the attic before whoever came in could spot him. I landed with a thud on the floor, where four hands caught me. I saw two flashlight beams jump around in the attic, but I could see nothing in the staircase. I tried to break free, and I tried not to scream, as I saw some light hit a razorblade.

"All you have to do is react," a man said with an accent, it was Norwegian like Miranda's. I shook my head in response, quietly.

"Good, only this time, louder," the other set of hands said. I felt the cold of the metal go up my skirt, then a sharp pain where they shouldn't have touched. I shook my head and tried to get away from them, but I started reliving what had happened on the first day of normal school.

"NO! NO!" I yelled, I screamed in spite of myself, and I heard Manson fly down the stairs.

"Don't you touch her!" he yelled, but then the men upstairs came down behind him and grabbed him up in their grasps. They were both twice as wide as him, and had on corpse makeup. I couldn't stand to look at them. Then, I blacked out, and I didn't know what was happening at all.