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Vengeful Brother

(Forgot to mention that a lot of these stories are old so again, please excuse the spelling and grammar errors)

" Don't talk to me that way!," Logan yelled at his mom from the other side of Vincents bedroom wall. " I'm your mother-," was all their mom said before she was cut off with a hard slap across her already bruised face. Vincent rolled around in his bed, trying to cover his ears with his pillow. He balled up and gritting his teeth with frustration. " I don't care if your my mom or not, YOU don't talk to me in anyway with disrespect!" Logan's harsh voice was muffled from the wall. William, Vincent and Logan's little brother, started to wail loudly. Vincent shot up from his bed and stumbled out the door and into the hallway. On the other end was their mom silently crying on the living room floor, William, tearing up, cried loudly. Logan shot his glare at Vincent from the dark hallway.

Vincent scrunched his face into a disgusted snarl, and balled his fists. They both stared for a long while, sending daggers at each other. " Come on William," Vincent's voice was strained.

William quickly got up and ran over to Vincent's side and continued to cry. " m-m-mommy---I want mommy," William uttered breathlessly. Vincent patted William into his room and sat him on his bed. "Stay here, and I'll go get mommy," Vincent assured his little brother. As he walked out, he shut the door behind him, Logan wasn't in his same spot. A broad hand was placed tightly on Vincents shoulder. " Your lucky you didnt get a beating today," Logan said as he spun Vincent to look up at him. " cause if you interfered, you would have ended up dead," Logan warned as he looked down at his younger brother. His icy blue gaze sending chills up and down Vincent's spine.

Vincent shook off Logans hand and walked over to his mom's room. He felt Logan staring at him from behind as he opened his moms door. " hello.. ",Vincent called out gently. " you okay mom? " Vincent stepped fully into the room and closed the door. She was laying on the bed facing away from the door and Vincent. Mom shook violently and held back cries. " I'm so sorry, Vincent ",Mom gasped out as she turned to face her eighteen year old son. Her yellowish brown eyes filled with grief. Vincent walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. " It's not your fault.. ",Vincent replied as he looked down at his hands. " lets just get some rest and forget about all this---again ". Vincent hugged his mom and quietly left the room with a " I love you ". Vincent walked back to his room at the end of the hallway. William fell asleep on his bed while holding his teddy bear. Vincent picked him up and walked him to his room. After tucking William in, He flopped in his bed and slowly drifted off to sleep. ...

Vincent's bedroom became freezing cold, making him wake up. He turned over and looked at his clock. '5:30'. He stayed in bed, facing the wall while listening to the sounds around him. Usually at this time, Mom would be awake and working on her work assignments. Sometimes watching T.V while doing so. But everything was oddly quiet. To quiet for Vincent. He rolled off his bed and stood up while patting off his PJ's. He hugged himself tightly while rubbing his arms; wanting warmth.

Vincent walked through the hallway and into the living room. He stopped at the end of the hallway and looked over at the couch. He expected to see his mom, towering over papers and drinking a large cup of coffee, but no one was in the living room. A strong breeze came at Vincent from the right. He looked over and saw the front door wide open like a gaping mouth. Then something hit him hard in the gut. Vincent rushed to his moms room and swung the door open to reveal a empty and messy bedroom. The bedding was ruined and scattered around the mattrice. Vincent then ran to William's room next to his and opened the door with panic. Nothing but a messy room. 'Logan' was the first thing that popped in Vincents head. He grabbed at his black hair with stress and frustration. " where could he have taken them? ",Vincent tried grasping an idea of some sort.