What You Deserve

I followed Frank up the stairs, and looked around. Gerard and Mikey were still nowhere to be seen. "I thought you knew where Gerard and Mikey were? Why aren't they back?" I questioned, as I followed him to the couch, sitting down beside him.

"I don't know where they are," Frank shrugged. His eyes scanned my face, "they weren't where I thought they would be," he let out a sigh, wrapping his cold arms around my waist and pulling me closer. "so I came back and found you digging through our stuff." My body froze as I felt his lips brush against my neck. "Calm down," he chuckled softly, "I'm not going to bite you unless your heart rate keeps rising, then I might not have enough control..." he muttered, as I felt my body go even more rigid at this thought.

He was only like this for a minute, before his head shot up, looking around wildly. I felt my muscles relax slightly, until he stood up quickly, and pulled me onto my feet by my wrist. "Come on," he mumbled lowly, hurrying me up to his room. Once there, he shut and locked his door, and wrapped his arms around me. "Jade, do you care about me?" Frank pressed his cool face against my neck, "do you really care about me?"

This question took me off-guard. I didn't really know how to answer him. Of course I cared about him, right? I cared about everyone in the house to an extent. But what type of care was he asking? I could feel his body shake slightly, and he repeated the question in a quivering voice. "I care about you, Frank," I murmured, somewhat confused, but trying to sound comforting.

"Good," he mumbled, walking forwards, causing me to stumble backwards, until I found myself in my room. The vampire smiled awkwardly, looking at me as if trying to read my mind. Before I could register what was happening, I found his lips pressed tightly against mine, then he was standing a foot away.

"F-Frank?" I stumbled back slightly, my legs finding the bed behind me, and pushing me into a sitting position on it. "Are you alright?"

He looked even more pale than usual, as he turned and walked to the door. "Don't talk after the door's closed, no matter what you hear. Don't come out, stay where you are. If you hear anything in my room, look under your bed. Under a blanket is a shoe box... if the door opens without one of us saying who it is first, use what's in it. If I don't come back within a day, I hope you can knock over a bookshelf to get out," he mumbled.

Just as he finished the sentence, I heard a sickening crack from just outside the front door of the house, and a thud of something hitting the door. Just as the thud was heard, I saw the door shut, and heard something scraping against the floor, like wood running against the wooden ground. I felt a sickening feeling rising in my stomach as I reached under my bed, finding the blanket, and casting it aside, to drag out the shoe box. I brought my knees to my chin, sitting on my bed, as I lifted up the lid to the box, and bit my lip looking at what was inside.

A small, silver pistol.

Whatever was wrong, Frank was afraid. And now, I was too.