(A/n)
This is relating to as mentioned in the author notes of the chapters An empty promise | G.W. and Halloween Special | G.W., in case y'all don't know,,, enjoy! ✨
Slightly inspired by Doctor Who and the prisoner zero thing
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"I'm calling it," Frank says in defeat, his bottom lip sticking out as he sends a few dry leaves flying with a kick. "We're lost in the woods." A sigh escapes his nose as he looks around, cold fingers poking out of his fingerless gloves and wrapping themselves around my hand. They're always cold.
"Well, no shit, Frank." I roll my eyes. "I literally said that five minutes ago, but you were worried, with..." I think for a moment, but I'm not sure about what he was doing, talking to himself while I looked around the endless trees, seeking for a clue to get us out of here. "...whatever."
"Aw, don't be like this, I found a nice thing!" He says in a soft whine, eyebrows furrowed; he stops to walk, reaching for something in his pocket then pulls out a heart-shaped rock. His lips stretch in a cute proud smile, "actually, it was something else that I had seen, but I found this and I was gonna give it to you, but you were walking away before I could notice," he says with certain frustration.
"Oh, look at you! You never let me stay mad at you," I mutter under my breath, my heart practically melting. Taking the rock in hand, I take a good look at it before shoving it in my pocket. "Idiot," I joke, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to his smiling lips. The giggle that comes from him makes me look at him with a stupid smile, shaking my head to myself before pulling him along with me to continue walking.
Dry leaves crack under our feet, practically the only sound in the place apart from the occasional breeze going through the leaves that remain in the trees and also makes us shiver. The dense clouds above us make it difficult to determine what time is it - something thankfully solved by our phones - and contributes with the cold air, though it doesn't penetrate through the heavy layers of clothes. Of course, we were worried about the rain, but the way the clouds are there since yesterday and not a single drop fell from the sky gave us some confidence.
Besides all, it feels like we're alone, but it also doesn't. Not to mention that, if we weren't actually alone, the sounds of the steps would easily be heard through the thick silence, with the ground being practically orange, almost completely covered in dry leaves. It makes me calmer.
All the walking almost makes me forget how we ended up here, but I remember what was it about it. We went for a walk to a specific place - a clearing we'd found days ago -, but I guess we took the wrong turn and, caught up in a conversation, only noticed it when we didn't even have phone signal anymore. It's not as bad as it sounds, the woods are just in the outskirts or the city. We found a trail at some point and here we are now, hoping it takes us to out of here. Though we've probably been walking for a couple of hours, the good point is that we left our house in the morning.
"I'm so tired of walking," Frank groans with a sigh, rubbing his face with his free hand. "We're getting nowhere. And I'm sure I've seen that tree-"
"Wait, that's a house, isn't it?" I raise an eyebrow, pointing to the place, interrupting Frank before he gives me another goddamn existential crisis. "There's probably someone in there," I tell him with a thoughtful hum, "like, window's open and all..." I trail off, tired. It seems like a fancy place, I bet someone probably wouldn't build this too deep into the woods. Or at least I hope so.
"Well, I guess," Frank shrugs, grabbing his phone and flipping it open, but just for a few seconds and then he's turning to me with a frustrated sigh. "Still no signal. Okay, so, whoever's in there will either help or kill us, so we better be prepared. I love you so much, so, if there's ever a situation that only allows one of us to run away..." He pauses, looking at me from under his eyelashes; as much as it sounds like he's going to say something sweet, I guess I know Frank enough. "...I'll miss you a lot, okay? Maybe I'll call the cops to come check on the place, so don't worry." His lips part in a proud grin, a chuckle escaping his lips once I snort.
"Okay, yeah, sure," I nod, rolling my eyes, "You're so lovely, Frank, best boyfriend," I tease, but quickly fall serious again, having thought about what he said. "No, but, really, what if they actually kill us or something? Like, horror movie thing? I'm pretty sure that in Texas Chainsaw Mass-"
"No, no, c'mon," Frank interrupts me, his eyebrows furrowing in a pleading expression as he holds onto my hand with both of his. "We could get some water or something, you've got no idea how fucking tired I am. We can hit them with whatever if they try to attack us."
"Y'know," a breath escapes my lips as I try ignoring the fear tight in my chest and let Frank drag me along with him. I mean, I'm really tired, but I prefer to sleep for two days straight instead of being killed. "Gerard's usually the one with bad ideas, but you're always pulling us to problems."
"Aw, no, trust me," he says with a pout, squeezing my hand, the rough fabric of his gloves somehow warm around my hand. "Trust me," he shoots me a look, pleading eyes observing me from under his eyelashes.
Not replying, I only let out a defeated sigh in response. I really want to stop and my throat aches for a drop of water. In the worst of the cases, at least I won't die alone.
It looks like practically any house we'd find in a rich neighborhood - modern styled two-story house, a lot of details in wood while the front wall of the second floor seems to be entirely made of glass, though it's not possible to see through it. It has a comfortable vibe, seeming to be a good place for spending the vacations in. All the windows in the first floor are open while there's just a single one open in the second one, with white curtains poking out of it, pulled by the wind when it hits stronger. The open door shows the furniture in light wood and a decoration that matches the aesthetic.
"Hello?" Frank asks after knocking on the door, though it's open. He's tense, me too - our hands tight around each other, both of us holding our breaths and standing completely still as waiting for a response, but the word is lost in an empty silence.
Slowly, he starts walking in the house, ignoring the glare I send him.
"It's not nice walking into someone's place like this," I say quietly as looking around, seeking for a signal of life in the house.
"Eh, we can just explain why we're doing this if they catch us." Frank's voice is louder than mine, but still quiet. Our steps sound impossibly loud against the wooden tiles. I don't answer.
The kitchen isn't much different from the rest of the house. Everything seems organized; the way the place is clean and a glass full of water sitting on the counter with two ice cubes inside it tell me there's really someone in the house, making a shiver run down my spine at the thought they'll probably be back soon to get the water.
"Here," Frank says, suddenly holding out a glass of water to me. Apparently, I zoned out for too long.
"Thank you," I mutter, exhaling and taking the glass in hand, shakily bringing it to my lips. Meanwhile, Frank looks around the place, sighing as he leans back against the counter. He looks from me to one of the stools across from him and points at it. With a nod, I sit up on it, thankful for giving my legs a break. The quietness is immersive, causing a great difference after so long with the breeze going past our ears or through the tree's leaves.
Frank's eyes go past me, probably looking at the doorway. Something catches his attention, but there's nothing when I turn around and to take a glance.
"What's up?" I ask in confusion, setting my empty glass beside me.
"Nothing..." He trails off. "Y'know, I'll... I'll go check if there's someone around, okay? I'll be right back." His lips press together in a smile and he kisses my cheek before moving to walk out of the room in weirdly slow and quiet steps. Odd. Something in his words and manners don't convince me, but I don't question it either, just trusting him.
He's gone for a few minutes; I check the time on my phone at least three times and I just can't wait anymore when ten minutes go by. I try calling for him, but there's no response - not even when I walk into the living room again. The same deadly silence of before is the only response I get.
I'm quiet for a moment, trying to listen or catch on a small detail that tells me Frank didn't simply disappear. The stairs seem weirdly threatening for some reason. But what if he's up there?
I'm about to take a step forward to climb the stairs when there's suddenly something grabbing onto my arms. Frank.
"Hey, I was-" I interrupt myself when I start being dragged behind and I freeze noticing it's not him, a shudder running down my spine. Though it feels like there are sharp, long fingers gripping around my arms, just below my shoulders, I can't see anything there when I look at it. And there's absolutely no one behind me either. No matter how I look around or try to look at the objects' reflex, there's absolutely nothing, but the grip's so strong that I can barely move as I'm dragged.
Where is it taking me to? What's even it?
The only result of all the questions, of all the confusing feelings is only a loud scream going past my lips before I can notice. At this point, the terror is probably bigger than the fear - I don't even fucking know what's doing this to me, I don't know what to wait for or what someone or something with this grip is capable of.
I can hear my name being called from upstairs, Frank's voice muffled, followed by heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.
And suddenly I'm alone again. Standing in the middle of the living room. My eyes are wide as I observe around the room. There's still this thick silence- And there's a muffled, loud thud.
Not even thinking, I start running upstairs, my heart stopping for a second at the sight of a red liquid coming from under one of the doors and, as bad as it can turn out, it's the exact door I go for, sweaty fingers wrapping themselves around the cold doorknob, afraid the worst happened.
Frank stands there. Calmly. An almost innocent look on his face as he looks around, intensifying when his gaze finds mine. Something completely normal. That if there wasn't blood everywhere less on him. Still, I weirdly calm down - or simply don't know how to react, my mind just giving up on keeping up with all the weird events and entering in a state of shock.
"Red syrup." Frank says with a smile, earning himself a look of disbelief from me.
"Is that really red syrup? Please tell me it's syrup." I say in a rushed tone, then pause. "I can't stand blood." A sick feeling bubbles in my stomach.
"Good thing it's everywhere," he chuckles, though he clearly holds more feelings than he dares to demonstrate, a visible tension or maybe nervousness noticeable by his tense shoulders. Why are his teeth stained red?
Averting my eyes from him, I look around the room. I don't know what's worse; the sight of blood everywhere, the lack of source, Frank having not a single hair strand out of place or maybe the I'm glad you are here written on the wall in black letters, a childish handwriting.
"So..." Frank trails off. "Let's get out of here," he looks away, cleaning his throat as approaching me in rushed steps, taking my hand and starting to pull me down the stairs with a firm grip.
I hadn't noticed it before, but there are a few mirrors hanging on the wall, by the stairs. Weirdly enough, I'm the only one I can see in it. It's not even scary, after everything.
"...So, when exactly were you going to tell me that you're a vampire?" I ask, my attention between going down the stairs and looking at the mirrors. Eventually, we stop, by the bottom of the stairs. there's a wider mirror hanging on the wall, right behind Frank. It looks like my hand's wrapped around nothing.
"Wh-what?!" Frank tenses up, eyes widening in the same moment. Some genuine surprise takes over his face. "What do you mean? Vampires aren't-"
"Frank, I'm looking straight in the mirror and you're not in it." My voice is calm. But what is there to freak out over anymore?
He's silent. Eyes flickering over me in seek for something, but he doesn't find it and he falls in disturbance.
"What attacked us?"
"Um, you better not know." Frank says nervously. There's a long pause, but I don't ask further about it. "I..." Frank exhales. "Let's get out of here, hm?" He presses his lips together, quickly starting to walk again. He sighs, glancing at me repeatedly as we walk, but I don't say anything.
"I know how to get us out of here now," he mutters, the silence of the house not so empty anymore.
We leave through the back door and, when we go past the kitchen, the glass with ice is there the same way. The cubes not any smaller.
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