Theres someone for everyone. Isn't there?
- Based around the time of Texas Chainsaw Massacre The Beginning. A few weeks the first teenagers were killed a young teenager, is found by Luda Mae and taken, in by the Hewitt family. There she meets Thomas. Is it a match made in heaven?
The start of a not so normal day
The Hewitt house stood out like a sore thumb, its large wooden frame and wide open windows, with plain white curtains that flapped around calmly, due to the regular summer breeze that passed by. The front door was wide open, in order to cool down the large house, a middle aged man in jeans and a baggy checker shirt was seated on the front porch. His hands over laped themselves as he rested them on his stomach, as he breathed in silently, his head tilted back exposing his neck along with his white stub chin due to him not shaving in a few months, but then again he was not in his prime and women were hard to find around these parts. It was like a ghost town now days, and that was putting it mildly.
Flicking out his tongue that was barely covered in salvia mostly black splashes, due to him having a black coffee earlier on that day, he dragged it along his lips, picking up the small spots of sweat that was starting to collect around his face due to the heat that was starting to increase. His eyes were closed behind his square glasses, but they were starting to flicker open as he heard the first sound, of the new and improved Charlie Hewitt or Sheriff Hoyt as he was forcing everyone to call him. That young wipper snapper was starting to get a little bit to big, for his boots but Monty was careful not to say anything, they were a family and being family ment that you put with one another, no matter how vurbally abusive they could be.
"Uncle Monty...?"
A gruff voice was easily heard. Monty's eyes slowly started to open as he rolled them around within side of his skull, well he had managed to get at least half an hour of a nap. Moving his hands away from his stomach he placed them against,wheels of his wheel chair as he pushed himself along the proch. Slipping his hand towards his bottox he pulled out his boxers, that were starting to give him a rather uncomfortable wedgie.
"What do you want Sheriff?"
Monty spoke in a voice that was rather drowzy as he paused within the enterance of the front door. His left arm hanging by his side while his right hand had moved in a manor, that he could slip his thumb into the band of his jeans. His light brown eyes were starring, at the man who had called him.
Sheriff Hoyt was standing by the stair case, he wore brown slacks that just came below his ankles, his shoes were jet black and polished thanks to his own spit. His shirt was white with faint brown stripes, it was tucked into his slacks causing it to press against his chest, when ever he would lean back it looked like the buttons were having a hard time keeping joined together. Upon his head to cover up his badly cut grey hair, was a simple brown sheriff hat which created a rather strange shadow over his face, making him look more disturbing that he really was.
"I was wondering if you have seen Thomas. He is not in his room."
Monty could hear a slight hint of concern in the fake Sheriff's voice, he knew that Hoyt would never admit that he cared about Thomas or anyone else for that matter, but Monty knew that he was a family man at heart, he was just to proud to hide away the brute force that he had gotten, when he was at war something that almost tore this family apart as they had no idea if he would come back.
"Not since this morning when, he had breakfast that Luda prepared."
Hoyt pushed out his lips that made it look like he was pouting, but it soon turned in a frown. Opening his mouth he let out a loud sigh as he turned, himself around and walked into the sitting area where there was a phone, he was going to phone Luda to see if she had seen the boy.
"I would hate to be Thomas right now."
Monty muttered to himself with a shake of his head.
Thomas did have a habbit of wandering off sometimes, in fact most of the family did, Luda would leave at early hours in the morning to go down to her shop, or to visit her two friends who lived in a caravan a good half an hour away, Hoyt would take long trips in his sheriff car to see if he could pick up anyone for dinner, and Monty. Well Monty would remain at the house, being in a wheel chair ment that he would not be able to get around that far without someone else there to make sure he would not fall or anything.
Hoyt stood leaning against the table as he nodded his head or shaking it, a woman's voice could just be heard down the phone, and judging by the way that Hoyt was acting she was not telling him anything that he wanted to hear.
"Alright. Just call if you see him."
At the end of that sentance Hoyt slammed the phone down, he picked up his hand as he placed it against his face and dragged it down slowly, causing his lower lip to stretch and his eyes to almost pop out of his skull. Dropping his hand down by his side causing a loud smack to be heard, he walked towards the kitchen to get himself a glass of ice water. He would make himself some lemonade but Luda was not around, and she made the best lemonade. Just as he was about to take a sip of his ice water he pulled the glass away from his lips, as he narrowed his eyes and walked towards the kitchen door as he pushed it open which lead to the back garden, and there low and behold was Thomas limping towards the house. Hoyt held onto the glass rather tightly as he slammed it down on the counter, causing the ice cubs to jingle and some of the water to splash onto his wrist.
"Thomas Brown Hewitt!"
The sound of Sheriff Hoyt's voice was enough to pull Monty's attention away from his shows, which he was watching with a blank expresion on his face, now all he could show was annoyence and concern.
Thomas was clearly in trouble.
At the sound of his uncle's voice Thomas stopped limping and lifted up his head, his face was covered with a leather mask, he did wear a human flesh mask, but that was starting to decompose so he went back to his old mask. Brown eyes glared around before he found the source, of the person who shouted his eyebrows, moved together to show an expresion of fear and concern. Sure he was taller and much stronger than Hoyt, but Thomas turned into a puppy when ever Hoyt was around.
"Where have you been?"
Hoyt shouted at his nephew.
Thomas shrunk back when his uncle shouted at him, sure he should have seen this coming concidering, he had not let his family know where he was going. Rising up his hands he began to flap them around not because he was trying to get rid of a fly, it was just the things that he did to try and comunicate.
Hoyt stood watching his nephew his hands on his hips, not because he was trying to be the big scarey uncle it was just the way that he stood, as it made it look like had more authority.
Thomas during his mad hand movements was trying to explain to his uncle, that he had been at the slaughter house were he used to work, to see if there was any teenagers nosing around that, he could kill and bring back home, when he found no one he decided to stay there because it was nice and cool, during that time he slipped and sprained his ankle, which was why he was limping. After he was done he dropped his hands down infront of him as he began to nervoslouly twist his fingers causing them to click into place, his large eyes were starring at Hoyt pleading mentally that he would at least belive him.
Hoyt starred at his nephew with a harsh glare, before he nodded his head signalling that he belived him.
"Alright I belive you. Now get inside."
Thomas quickly walked inside.
Hoyt looked around their back garden breifly before following his nephew he was still angry at him, but he was not going to do anything to him, he was growing soft.