The character Alex in this story belongs to AlexDeGhost. He is writing his own version of this story and I am writing my own. I hope you enjoy my version.
(Alex's POV)
I am not violent. I never hurt anyone nor do I ever intent on hurting someone. My family on the other hand…they have lots of enemies.
People call me stereo because I say things people don't like. I have a strict sense never to talk to anyone even if they seem friendly. There were a lot of people who falsely say they are friendly, but turn on you like rabid wolves to eat you. I live in Canada and haven't found anyone who would want to hurt me, but my father struggles providing for his family, me, my mother, my two older brothers, and my grandma. I sound like I am from an ordinary family but that's just a lie for the police.
Our life is really that of guns and death. Back in the 40's my grandfather was mixed in with the mob instead of going off to fight in World War Two like he told his father. grandpa pretended he was fighting for his country and even wrote letters to his parents explaining the things they were doing, which was really just a forged copy from a mobster who took part in the first world war. Eventually he met my grandma, the first woman he ever loved. She was unlike any girl Luke had ever met; he had his first time with a woman who turned out to be a lesbian and would only sleep with him because his boss told her to do it. The rest of the girls were sneaking around from their boyfriends and sleeping with him for extra cash.
He first walked by her when he saw a wedding taking place in the streets. She appeared when the bride was throwing a bouquet of flowers; she came and jumped higher than the rest of the girls to catch it. It was at that moment grandpa realized she was so eager to get married. They started out as two people who could share secrets with each other. grandma told grandpa to be sure to tell her if they ever fell in love with someone to tell them immediately.
Four years later after staying as just friends grandpa finally told her he liked her, and she reciprocated his feelings. However, grandpa didn't have money for a wedding. He stole the money from boss of the mafia for their wedding to which he eloped to Canada where they could hide but stay close to their families. Grandma gave birth to his first son (my father) Frank and two years later gave birth to their second son Mickey (my uncle). Everything seemed so perfect...
Those happy moments ended after ten years when the mob caught up with my father to which they wanted to kill him. They sent a bomb hidden in a package addressed to grandpa who had taken both his kids ( my father and my uncle) to their first hockey rink. When grandma opened the package she was vaporized by the blast of the bomb. The police than found the note addressed to grandpa. Reading that message grandpa wanted to have his revenge for grandma.
My grandpa changed Frank and Mickey's hearts into young soldiers. He raised them until they were seventeen years old and could eliminate the mafia. He was able to get them to join the mafia; the mafia kept tabs on location and grandpa but not his family. My parents joined...right at the beginning of the month where the boss's son was going to be wed to Lupita Mally (my mother), planning to execute all of them on the day of the wedding.
The violent parts I heard from my father whom was speaking about his father and the plan his brother and he were about to do...the rest I heard from my mother. She fell in love with my father when she on the veranda, covering her black eye with a white eye patch, and her husband came in because he heard her crying in the hall and his soft side couldn't stand to see women cry.
" Is our marriage that of a mouse to a hawk or a goose to a fox?" She said hiding her bandaged eye. " But you know how my family goes. I am to help the unity of our family or be kicked out of my family."
She cried when she said it. Poor mom needed someone to protect her from that awful husband. With the help of my uncle and grandfather—he was only helping because he thought of it as a way to get back at the don—helped her escape writing a ransom note under the alias of a member of her family. The two mafia groups went to war against uniting their organization.
Everyone was perfect again for my grandpa. His son married my mother to unite their three family members with her. I would like to say our family prospered when I was born as well as my two brothers. I was wrong. There was something different about me...I had the ability to heal myself. One day I was riding on my bike and had cuts and scrapes over my body. I restored my skin to normal after crying like a fool.
I have shown to have an above normal intelligence. When I was given a writing book I can finish every page in just one day, I also have what my father describes as a "photographic memory". My skin is light and my eyes are blue. I have a full head of dark blond hair that stands up at random spots and is short. Because it was mostly cold here in Canada I wear a black winter hat. I am very shy about my looks and wear a Ranger mask to be safe. I keep my arms warm with black gloves, cover my hair with a gray hoodie that also keeps me warm and stops my hair from getting frizzy, wear normal jeans and sneakers.
Time never mattered to me. Time always move slowly. For days and months and years I have been living in a RV when you are a seven year old boy with a small imagination. Right now my mom is driving the car, my grandpa is snoozing, sleeping next to him with empty plastic pudding snacks were my brothers, and my Dad was in his "Private Room". Like every private room, the rooms your parents tell you never to open, never open them.
" Alex," my mother said while still driving the RV. " There's a Mcdonald's coming up. Do you want anything?"
" Can I have their pancakes and chocolate milk?" I asked hoping her answer would be yes.
" You can. Wake your brothers up to see if they want anything as well."
My parents think they know more about me than I know about them , but they are wrong. I know more about my parents than I should know. I know every night my parents like to leave the RV when they think I'm asleep because that's when they get to have sex. I know where they keep their money and why they don't hug me very often. I even know what my father's favorite book was when he was growing up; all coming from grandpa.
I played very loud and obnoxious music from my cellphone. My first brother Oswald push me away and my second brother Brett just played his music even louder than me. Silly me, I was in such a rush talking about myself I forgot to mention my brothers. There's Oswald, the future photographer, ten years old, and a potential photographer. He wants to one day get into the business of catching rich people having affairs from their wives…what my father joked about. My other brother Brett likes to stack things. He likes to drink water glasses than stack the others to make a pyramid.
I look outside noticing the scene change from a forest to a long road path past a jagged mountain. And on the other side of this road I could see a big Mcdonald's sign where I would finally have my desert. Just when we were about to make it to the sign I heard dad shout something out in his room. He burst out of his room, a look of insanity in his eyes, and grabbed my arm. He was pulling me towards his room, the place I wasn't allowed to be in, taking me out through the back.
" Mommy!" The last thing I yelled being carried by my dad off the road.
A well-known group appeared on the road. They shot at the car hitting the front until my mom came to a stop. One tank was rolling in the front of the road and I heard another one moving from the back. How we managed to escape when my family was taken hostage was beyond me.
" Mommy!" I shouted again, this was when a member of the group forced my other to walk out and he hit her with the side of his gun.
" They are not going to hurt them," my father said unamused. He sounded completely undeterred in helping his family. " Their primary objective is you."
Frank's POV)
Walking through the forest on foot with my son latched on my back and dangerous soldiers behind me, it was a tough day being a parent.
I have done very bad questionable things in my life. I am a killer, an assassin, and in one point a mercenary. Killing is all I am good for, and it is through killing I am still alive.
When I was a little boy my mother was killed. My father's old boss killed her. My father was working for the mob and the mob sent a hit on him. I hold no grudge for my father and how he
was responsible for the death of my mother. It's like this world-this war-is telling me I can't fight my conscience.
My name is Frank and as far as you know I have no last name. We were trying to stay away from gangs and the mob but they found us and have taken my father, my children, and my wife. I only have my son and a briefcase with illegally modified weapons.
How did I know…those men in black suits with their black guns and sniper rifles were coming? I modified the back of our RV. At first it was just some cheap home car costing one hundred Canadian dollars a week. I installed a door in the back, made of the same metal as the RV and camouflaged to look like the back. I installed a microscope in ever part of the wall to look out, that's when I noticed that black car following us (black car like the mob movies) and the men hiding in the forest. Why was I looking through those windows the whole time we were driving? A good sniper is like a good artist. He always takes his time to make sure the job is done.
But I am just rambling on about me. They were after my son Alex. I am a not a normal human being. My children are normal human beings, so is my wife. Today and even before World War 1 there were signs of children being born with weird ears—ears that stick out of their hair instead of beside them. My grandmother was born with them. My father and I were born without those features. My son Alex, has to wear a hoodie all the time, heals himself as fast as he is injured, and is born with more brain cells than a normal human, is some kind of extra-terrestrial and human, alien from my grandmothers side and human from my father's side.
We have to keep moving, despite how tired I am, away from the men who captured my family, calling themselves the Shift Eyes Paradox. They are catching up to me. They will kill me and keep my son alive to examine his DNA. My life doesn't matter anymore. These men want soldiers like my Alex to win a war against rivals and soldiers.
" Daddy I'm hungry," my poor son said with his stomach roaring like a lion.
" We will have food soon, son," I lied. There was no clear way to find food in this forest.
I don't have to tell you life without food would cease to exist. I managed to find an abandoned where we could rest. I don't know how my son is going to sleep when he is so hungry. It's not like I could just drug him to fall asleep. I couldn't because he is my son…and more importantly I didn't have any.
If we survive the night and make it to a dinner I would order everything there.
When I opened the creaky scary doors of the abandoned building I realized this old building use to be a church. It looked like the father of the house was out. Get it, because he's a priest. I don't want to tell you how desolate this building is and how anyone who obvious it was anyone who lived her would've given up hope…I was too tired to care from all that running. Even Alex was tired; the little scamp fell asleep in my arms. And I put Alex on one of the benches using three bibles as covers.
I had two guns and enough ammo for five. They were 8mm guns, black, with small bullets. It could fire twenty bullets before I needed to reload. I was now deciding on whether I should barricade the doors or just sleep on a bench and hope they don't look through here. If I wanted to avoid a killer, I had to think like a killer.
They were not very bright, they used a sniper to take down a car instead of two cars ramming together to stop the van. The sniper must have heard about their coming the last time they stopped. He probably had to wait for at least five hours. He probably feels weak like a coach potato. He is slow, and he can't run carrying his rifle. He either has to leave the rifle behind or disassemble it to carry in a briefcase.
The only options I have is to ignore this uneasy feeling inside me, carry my son the entire way, and make it to the road in…one day, that is of course if I run the entire night. My other option is hope they don't have that many men and fight them with my lousy guns.
" Alex, how are you at…?"
My son was already asleep. He was snoring loud but softly. It was like he was a baby again and I was putting him in my hands. Screw it, I thought looking at my son and walking to the windows. If they want to fight me they can send an armada for all I care.
I barricaded the door with one of the benches from the front. The bench was surprisingly light. It must have been all the years it has stayed in here have made it lighter. Either that or I was just stronger from all the stress and adrenaline going through my head. I was sitting beside my son, in the back. If they got through that door I had to be sure he was safe. If all my other plans failed there was a secret underground door under the…nah, I am just kidding. There's no door. Just a tiny hole in the wall big enough for only Alex to squeeze through.
They were here.
" Are you sure he went this way?" I could hear one of them calling from outside.
" Yeah I'm sure he's this way," another one retorted. " Let's check that big abandoned house over there."
" I think that's a church," a third voice said.
" Whatever. Let's just check it out."
I looked through the windows. There was no way they could see me. The lights were off inside the church and it was so dark outside I could only see one guy and ten maybe twenty more guys hiding in the shadows. This was going to be harder than I thought.
I could take out one guy right now, but he was too far away with the rest of his trigger happy friends. The key to winning this showdown was distance. If I can get them close enough to the building I could kill five of them with just five shots. Patience…patience…
I looked one of them in the eyes and he raised his gun out, but before he pressed the trigger…I heard gun shots coming from the back. The gun shots were too weak to go through the stone church, the stupid fools, but it alerted the rest of the soldiers in the shadows to pull out their guns and start shooting.
So much for my take five out in five shots plan.
I put my hands on my head and hide behind one of the benches. If I didn't hide behind this bench I'd probably be dead. Bullets went through the windows and shot through the bench. Through the gun fire and noise I heard my son Alex waking up.
" Mommy…I had a bad dream."
I should have hidden Alex somewhere safer than sleeping on a bench. He jumped off the bench at the loud gun noises. This was my second mistake today. The first mistake was staying here instead of moving to the road.
Some of the men made it to the door, I don't know how many, but they were trying to bolt through the front of the door. I could see their bullets hitting the barricade. I had two choices. I could either help my son now or go out there and kill those soldiers while they are distracted.
Sorry, son, but sometimes when there is a bad decision there's a good decision to go with it.
I jumped through the window landing on my hands and flipping down. I managed to get up with both my guns out. I saw five of them standing there shooting at the doors. First shot went right through of their head. That happened long enough for the remaining four to see me, but I face-shot two more through their heads.
" It's the kids dad killing our men!" One shouted.
" Let's kill the bastard!"
" Alex," I whispered gently. My son was trying to cover his ears and stop the loud noises from hurting his ears. I grabbed my son and turned him around so he was looking at me. " I'm here. You don't have to be afraid. Look at me and tell me you're not afraid."
" I-I'm not afraid!" My son shouted. Through all this noise he had to speak up.
" That's good. You can't believe everything you see. There is nothing out there that wants to hurt you. I want you to go out through that small hole only you can fit through and I want you to keep running until you find somewhere safe."
" What about you."
" I have to stay behind. But don't worry, I will find you. You have to go on without me, Alex. Escape."
This was news Alex was not ready to hear. How could I tell him his father was going to stay behind and die? I grew up thinking the craziest thing in the world was having children, and now I was thinking my child who I could never picture in my dreams had to be safe.
Alex was out of the church…farewell my son. I was back in the game. The game where I killed people.
The rest of the men pushed into the door and knocked the bench back. Eight of them were standing behind the bench; I got up and fired ten rounds into them. Six bullets went into six of their heads, and four of them went into parts of their bodies that badly injured them instead of killing them.
This is the battle I won. I reloaded and prepared to finish them off when suddenly I heard more gun shots. This was a combat op. I'm saying that because the people are me were big men, soldiers in fact, wearing bullet proof vest the same way marines wore them, Ak-47's, and helmets with plastic visors to cover their eyes.
They aimed their guns and fired at me. I swerved from the door and covered behind a corner of the church. They were just firing bullets at me and missing me. They may have looked stronger than the last guys, but they sure as hell weren't any smarter. The moment they stopped shooting I got back up and fired towards them. My bullets hit their face and torso, but my bullets just went through the vest and their helmets were made of some kind of metal.
I was going way over my head. I moved to the corner hiding from the soldiers. There was no place I could hide. These soldiers were moving closer to me and I was low on ammo. At least I know my son is safe…
" Dad!"
That stupid son of mine! I told him to run away and he comes back. How am I supposed to protect him when he comes back to me?
" What are you doing?" I yell at my son. He should have jumped ship.
"Why won't you come with me Dad?" Alex asks sadly. " I need you."
" No you don't. You need to get out of here. You are a—" I begin to say, but stop when I realize who I am talking to. " You have to go without me."
" Dad I can't."
I would be much angrier with my son if he wasn't just trying to help me. He was a little hero. I couldn't treat him like a tool I could just fly away, and he couldn't stay with him. It was hard to think over the sound of this gunfire, and then it hit me like lightning in my brain.
" Alex, there's something I want to show you." It wasn't much but I had a mask and hunting knife. I had them in my back. The mask was nothing but thin plastic on a string that looked like Dracula. " Take these." I tried handing him the mask and knife but he didn't want them. " A knife is your friend, the mask will make you stronger. You know in the comics how a mask turns ordinary people like you into heroes well it's your time to be the hero. You have two minutes to decide."
Maybe I wasn't saying the right words to him, but we only have two minutes until this church is raided by marines and we are both dead. What was taking him so long? Just pick up the weapons and get out of here.
I heard the marines reloading, so I turned around and fired bullets blindly towards them. My bullet managed to blow through the face of one soldier. They finished reloading, I ran. My son took my knife and mask when I wasn't looking and was on his way to freedom—I had my right leg shot off by these soldiers.
Lying on the ground and bleeding from my leg being shot off, I cried for the first time in years. This could be, it might be, the end of my journey. Now that I am all by myself and about to die, bleeding to death or about to be shot through the head, I can die the way I wanted…
Shooting at the enemy until I die.
( Alex's POV)
Why did my father do that? Why did he let himself get killed leaving me to run for my life in a forest to find help? We could of escaped together. We could have…both lived. I was running non-stop. He wanted me to live and I was going to live by never stop running.
What became of all this running? How long have I been running? The answer to these questions are I found a small town and I have been running for a whole day, even though I had to stop at that tree to take that nap. Where was I? Why were all the people in this town sitting outside a store drinking alcohol and driving in small red trucks?
" What does North Yankton have for us today?" A teenager laughed walking out of a grocery store holding a plastic bag.
" Not much," his friend laughed. " We are in Canada. And this is the most boring town."
North Yankton. I knew I was running for a long time but I didn't think I could run this far. I guess it had something to do with how fast my lungs recovered. I made it to a place with shelter like my father wanted, but what was I going to do now?
" Hey kid. Want to come home with me?"
I spotted a man in his forties with a grizzly looking white beard, red bandana, and black sunglasses. He wore a blue vest with a black shirt. His jeans were ripped open. He was barefoot. He was some kind of perverted trying to take me home to molest me. He even touched my hair with his dirty finger.
" Come on. You know you want to come with me—"
My mother told me to never talk to strangers, so I let my father's hunting knife do the talking. The moment he saw my knife his face flushed with fear. He ran, not very fast considering he was out of shape, and now I was alone.
You would think a seven year old boy like me couldn't survive on his own. You might have been right if I was an ordinary seven year old boy, but I am more than a seven year old boy; I am smarter and can survive from hunger and injuries. But if I was going to survive in a dark and dangerous town like this, I had to go somewhere no one would ever look for me. In case the people who hurt my family were still looking for me I needed to go somewhere stinky and hard to find. I needed to find a sewer hatch.
I looked in alleyways, behind buildings, and even in the streets for a sewer hatch. I couldn't find any. What I did find were orphans and kids who ran away from home. They were standing beside a steam roller burning from the inside. The kids were standing beside it and holding their hands out towards the flame to keep warm. I was sad for them, but I couldn't help them unless I brought back their families or made living at home better for them.
Just when I was about to leave those orphans and continue my search, a man wearing a hoodie and pulling a cart with balloons and wrapped sandwiches appeared. The kids seemed excited to see him. Most of them were excited to see him and ran to his cart, except for a little girl with a brown and fluffy hat. She stayed in a cardboard box staring at her friends.
" Today is a special day for all you poor starving children who don't have a home," the man said pulling his card to the orphans. " Today I am giving you free balloons and free sandwiches."
They were compliant with the man pulling the cart. They all walked up to the cart and grabbed a sandwich. They started by nibbling the food very slowly to relish its taste. I was hungry too, the man was very nice. Because he was such a nice guy I didn't trust him. Sometimes when things seem too good to be true, they really are. The man was hiding some kind of tool in one hand. It looked like a needle, but in the shape of a lollipop.
" Hey kids, I have some lollipops for you." The kids were happy to have an adult who would give them sweets despite being orphans.
Once again, the little girl with the brown and fluffy hat stayed in the box watching as her friends—hungry and greedy—tried to get their lollipops. It looked like she was considering whether she could trust this man. She really couldn't because he stabbed every one of them with that lollipop-like weapon.
I knew something wrong was going to happen when he gave them free sandwiches and showing up in his bus. This man was a kidnapper! The tip of his metal object was dipped in some kind of drug; everyone was unconscious just from one small poke. He had poked every poor human being in this poor street and was going after me next.
Everything was silent after that. The girl was running out of her box. The cart man grinned evilly walking towards me. He was about to poke that metal needle into me, probably put me in a truck taking me to room chained to a steam pipe, and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn't even run away.
" Come on," I was touched by the girl with the brown fluffy hat. Normally I wouldn't let anyone but my parents touch me, but I am making an exception considering the circumstances. " We have to get away."
The girl was pulling me trying to get away from the cart mover and what he was doing. She head through the road as she continued to pull me away from him. The man walked back to his cart searching for something. He found what he was looking for. It was a cellphone.
" What's the number for 911 again?" He said as if making a joke of it. " That's right; 911," he said tapping his fingers on the numbers. He was manipulating the police. " Hello, police. Is this the police? Who is calling? It doesn't matter who I am. All I am trying to say is there are kids who stole my wallet. They are Caucasian, one is short blond and the other wears a brown fluffy hat. Please find them and return them my wallet."
He's lying. I never stole anything since I got here.
I heard sirens following this girl through crowds of people leaving a movie theater. I hope they weren't the sirens of the police who were looking for us. I mean come on; we couldn't be the only boy and girl wearing warm clothing in this town? It's close to Christmas, it should be cold. The girl made herself handy taking other people's jewelry and wallets. She was a very good pick pocket. The people she stole from didn't even feel her hand reaching in their purses, pockets, and coats.
I was in big trouble. Not only would I get in trouble for stealing a wallet I didn't have but we would get in trouble for having over three wallets in that girl's pants. At least I thought she was keeping the wallets, but when we were out of the crowd she picked up all the money they had and threw the wallets away.
I could hear the sound of sirens of the cops going to arrest me. I quickly grabbed the girl and pulled her to garbage in the alleyway. We jumped in and closed the door. We stood there for minutes until the sound of sirens was gone.
" This place is terrible!" I exclaim getting out of the garbage and throwing fish bones away. " Everyone in this town is after me and everyone just leaves kids out on the street without taking care of them!"
" Welcome to North Yankton," the girl said climbing out of the garbage. " I too don't like this place. The police don't help homeless kids and the orphanage is full of bad kids. I would leave this place, but there's money here that's easy to pick up."
The girl seemed to be a thief. I was wondering why she didn't help her friends back there, I asked, " You knew that man was a kidnapper. You knew he was going to kidnap your friends. Why didn't you warn them?"
" They weren't my friends, kid," she told me. Who is she calling a kid? She's a kid as well. "They are just scapegoats to have around in case the police or people like him are around. I don't need friends and I don't want them."
" Well I'm going."
" Going where?" She asked.
" Back to the man who stole those poor homeless kids. I'm going to kill him with my hunting knife and free those kids."
" You cannot go," she warned. " That man who kidnapped them was some kind of professional. He knew how to get close to us. He could also know you are coming for him and has made a trap to capture you with."
" There's no trap in the world that can keep me," he said. " My dad died trying to save me and I'm going to save these kids. If my daddy was here he would do the same thing."
I know what you're thinking. Pretty big talk for a seven year old, right? Well environment does influence a kid's cognitive growth and I have been all around the world listening to different movies. I turned around walking back to the homeless shelter. Maybe I could find a clue like tire marks or ask someone who might know where a creepy guy pulling a balloon cart could hide.
" Wait," the girl said behind me getting my attention." I know where the guy lives."
" You do?"
" Yes. It was two weeks ago. I heard there was some guy walking in the street and kidnapping children. I decided to investigate these claims by lying low in a homeless shelter until he arrived. I would then hide and wait until he leaves before I followed him. He lives near 124 Mayberry Street."
" Mayberry Street, near 124, got it. And where is Mayberry Street?"
She slapped her hand against her face like I just asked a stupid question. The next thing she did was walk out of the alleyway. " Follow me." I walked behind her. She was slow, maybe because she was trying to step on cracks, so I followed her steps; trying to avoid the cracks so I wouldn't break my mother's back. " I'm taking you to Mayberry Street. After that, you stay away from me."
" Can I at least know your name?"
" It's Amber; Amber Carpenter."
I followed Amber through all the shortcuts she was moving through. The entire time we were moving she didn't look at me or stop to make sure I was okay, which half of the time I wasn't. I fell down a few times and she ignored me.