Les Oiseaux de Mauvaise Augure

Zacky licked his lips, peering down at Gerard's sleeping form. He had passed out on the couch, the TV glowing, lighting up the dark room and casting an ugly paleness onto his skin.

It had been nearly an hour since Shadows went into Charity's room. He had heard a scream- her scream. He was a little bit nervous, but whether she lived or not wasn't really his problem. He was getting out of there with or without her. He just figured that she probably didn't want to spend her life and possibly death with them. So, she would probably appreciate the help. And, it would help his head clear out just a little bit, knowing he did at least one good thing in his life.

Gerard's brother was dead in the kitchen and the other Jersey guys had been killed upstairs in their rooms while they slept. The knife in Zacky's hand felt heavy, gleaming with dark red blood. He closed his eyes.

Mom had passed out on the couch again. She had been drinking that stuff again. Alcohol or beer or whatever that made her breath smell and her words sound funny. Made her turn into a monster. Ugly and loud.

She didn't do it that often, but when she did, she made sure to let Zacky and his brother know just how much she could have done with her life if she hadn't gotten pregnant with a no-good son to a no-good husband. And, she always made sure to wake up just in time to get dinner on the table for Dad and clean up any mess that she'd made.

People don't think you can do too much when you're twelve. But, there's really a whole lot that you can do... or not do. There are a lot of thoughts that can go through a kid's head. Thoughts that can push him in all sorts of different directions- both good and bad. Really bad.

Zacky stared down at her sleeping form, ugly and pale with dark circles around her eyes. Her brown bottle had fallen from her hand and spilled onto the wood floor. The knife felt heavy in his hands. His brother lay dead in the kitchen and his father still wasn't home from work. And Mom was sleeping helplessly on the couch, snoring and twitching in her sleep. The neckline of her shirt had fallen very low, revealing the black bird tattoo on her chest. Her clothes always looked like that when she drank. Always showing off that bird as she screamed and threw things at her sons.

He readjusted his grip on the knife, almost afraid that he would drop it. It was slick, coated with his brother's blood, and a little of his own. His brother had managed to turn the knife back on him and cut his palm, leaving a deep gash. He licked his lips, positioning the knife above the bird tattoo- above her heart. And, he brought the knife down swiftly with all the force his tired body could muster.

Zacky gripped tighter onto the handle of the knife. He didn't feel like he was in his own body.

Zacky's arm twitched, moving the knife wildly at his side. He licked his lips again and lifted the knife up. He let out a deep breath.

Gerard's eyes shot open.

He reached out a clenched fist, punching Zacky in the stomach. He sat up straight and dove for the knife. Zacky was startled, but managed to hold his own. He fought Gerard for the knife. Gerard kicked Zacky's feet out from under him and he fell to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. Gerard's eyes glinted with anger and insanity, and Zacky assumed his must have matched.

"I'm going to slit your throat open," Gerard said, his voice mocking, singing. "And then I'm going to dig your eyeballs out and put them in them in the garbage disposal." Zacky's arm twitched again, weakening him for a moment and giving Gerard the upper hand.

Suddenly, the sound of the front door closing hit Zacky's ears. Footsteps came closer and closer, stopping in the doorway. Gerard looked up at the doorway, and started laughing. His laugh was hysterical and manic and terrifying. The footsteps started to go away, but Zacky had no desire to see who had entered the house. He was more focused on killing the cackling man above him.

Zacky lifted up his leg, kneeing Gerard in the balls, momentarily gaining the upper hand, but failing to cease his laughter. Zacky ripped his hand away from Gerard, accidentally letting the knife slip from his grip. It flew across the room and slid across the wood floor, the cold metal grinding against the hard surface. The two men both struggled towards the knife. Zacky punched Gerard in the jaw, and he finally stopped laughing.

"It's all over now," he growled. "We're all going to face the executioner alone." It was Zacky's turn to start laughing.

"Yeah, especially since I just killed your kid brother." Gerard faltered, his eyes growing wide and furious. His jaw clenched, his bright white teeth snarling at him.

"You crazy mother fucker-"

"Well, isn't that the pot calling the kettle black!" Gerard threw punch after punch at Zacky. His face, his chest, his stomach.

"I'm going to skin you alive and-" Suddenly someone's foot collided with Gerard's face, knocking him to the side, on his back. Zacky looked up and saw Charity. She looked down at Zacky, fists clenched. What little light there was in the room shone on her like a heroic, angelic figure. He quickly noticed that she was wearing Matt's clothes and his heavy boots. They were all too big for her and Zacky tried to stifle his laughter, but it came out in short bursts.

"Well isn't that nice?" She ignored Zacky and started after Gerard who had started crawling towards the knife again. Blood dripped down his face and Zacky could see his eyes glowing like some kind of animal even from far away. Zacky started after both of them. Charity kicked him in the head again, and Zacky had to try even harder to supress his laughter. Looked like it hurt. Gerard groaned, staying on his back, not moving. Charity kicked the knife over to Zacky. She stepped on both of his wrists.

"Where are your friends?" Zacky giggled.

"Dead as a doornail," he copied Gerard's sing-song voice from before, laughing like a lunatic. Charity looked back to him.

"Synyster?" Zacky scratched his head.

"Hmm," he mused. He clicked his teeth and smacked his lips. "Last time I checked he was talking to Jimmy." She frowned. "Or maybe he was asleep. I can't remember which." She sighed and stepped off of Gerard, walking back towards Zacky.

"You... you want to..." She motioned back to the man lying helplessly on the floor. His breathing was heavy and loud. Zacky pushed himself up. He walked over to the knife and picked it up. He waltzed over to Gerard.

"No time for birds and crazy people, mister. I've got a half-life to live." He thrust the knife into Gerard's stomach, who let out a strangled cry. Zacky twisted the knife and pulled it out, letting a gush of blood pour out. Charity looked away, out into the hallway, towards the stairs.

"Zacky-"

"Yeees?"

"Is there anyone else alive in this house besides us and Synyster?" He put a hand to his chin.

"Ohh, yeah." He looked down at Gerard who was coughing up blood and struggling to stay alive. "Who was that who walked in?" Zacky asked politely. Gerard just stared at him, his eyes dimming. "It's okay, take your time." Gerard's body relaxed and his breathing stopped. Zacky giggled again. "Oops! Looks like he's not talking." Charity sighed.

"Jesus, Zacky."

"Jesus, Cupcake," he mocked. He smoothed his hair back, his hands covered with blood. She frowned again, and pointed at his hand.

"You cut your palm open." He looked down at it. He started laughing again, louder this time.

"Oh, no, that wasn't me, that was my brother," he cackled. Charity felt shivers go down her back.

"Zacky, stop, you have to pull yourself together." He stopped laughing, his breathing heavy as he tried to calm himself down. "We're not done, yet." He nodded.

"I know, Cupcake. I know." He cracked his neck, his fingers twitching. He shifted his shoulders back and forth, stretching. "Upstairs."