Crimson Reflections | Ferard

IV

The house where Frank grew up and his mom and sister still lived was ancient. Frank didn't remember when they had moved in, he was a toddler back then, but he was later told that the house belonged to his family. It got passed on from every generation to the next. His dad was an only child and so the house became his when Frank's grandparents died.

Frank had always liked the house and how creepy it was. It scared him as a kid, but once he got addicted to ghost stories and horror movies, it became a thrill to live in such an old huge house, complete with lots of empty rooms and squeaky floors and doors. It got pretty scary especially at winter though, when rain and snow drowned everything and the wind made random doors slam and odd drifts came out of nowhere.

Frank hadn't lived in his parents' house since he had moved out after a particularly nasty fight with his mom. He was about to turn eighteen and his mom pretty much told him he needed to straighten himself out if he wanted to still live under her roof, so he left. He had the money and was too stubborn to admit he was going down a bad road that would only end in disaster.

Years later, and when the Iero family had reconciled after Linda Iero had fallen ill and Frank had started visiting again, it only took a few days until Frank pretty much moved back in. He still kept his apartment, but he was at his mom's pretty much every night since she got sick.

That night, Frank went home after his bizarre encounter at Ray's bar to find the lights turned off in the entryway of his mom's house.

The wind had picked up the minute Frank got closer to the house. It didn't look like anything was amiss, except for the lights, which was the oddest thing because Frank knew his mom liked the house to be always lit to show off her garden. He doubted she changed her habits since she left the hospital.

After making sure there was no one lurking around the bushes or the garden, Frank reached over to the gun he just went to his apartment to get. There was no way in hell he was going to walk around without it after what happened earlier that night. He moved slowly to the front door and opened it with the key his mom's given him and got in.

The only way to describe how the house looked when Frank stepped in was that like a hurricane had went through it and flipped everything over.

Frank stood there by the door, looking at the living room and the small library his mom's got there. Everything, that wasn't broken or torn down, was on the floor; the furniture and the books all turned over and scattered everywhere.

Frank couldn't move, the gun almost fell from his hand as he ran upstairs to find the same scene. There was nothing unbroken or not turned over. The whole place was destroyed. And most importantly there was no one there. Neither his mom or Mia anywhere.

...

Frank was numb. He couldn't think or move or do anything other than run. The image of his house perched down, the images of his mom and sister swimming behind his eyes driving him mad. Had whoever taken them harmed them? Or worse...

Frank shook his head and focused on what he was doing. He was walking. He was pretty much aware of that, but he had absolutely no idea where he was heading. It had started raining at some point and now it was borderline a downpour, soaking everything, soaking Frank to the bone, but he didn't feel it. He couldn't feel anything but the way his vision was blurring.

Was he crying? He had to be.

He was shivering too, the helplessness sinking into his bones like the ice water pouring over his head. He had never felt this alone in his whole life. He had never felt so helpless. He had no idea what to do. He had no idea who would've done this.

Was it Way? Was he really that mad Frank had rejected his offer? Why had he bothered to act like he was honestly giving him a fucking choice as if he could choose then? Giving Frank his fucking phone number like he had a choice.