A/N: Finally!!! The fic you've all been waiting for! I shan't keep you from it any longer so…enjoy!xD
Unexpected
Chapter One
It was a lazy day. The Majestics were in their private residence in Nantes, France. It was a special home for the boys; they had bought it with their own allowance and ran it without the help of servants or butlers whatsoever. The homely cottage was a place where they could just be themselves and enjoy one another's company.
As stated earlier, it was a lazy day. Robert and Johnny were out golfing in their homemade mini-golf course. Enrique was with Oliver in the kitchen, chatting with him as the French boy made cookies, when their cellphones rang simultaneously. The blonde's was signaling a message while the greenette's was signaling a call.
"Alo?" he answered.
"OLIVER!" The speaker on the other line was heard loud and clear even if she wasn't on speaker phone.
"Ah Aline…" the youngest Majestic laughed apologetically. It was one of his sous-chefs back in his restaurant. "Is there a problem?"
"Get your marmalade-centered bagel butt over here and frickin' help! This kitchen's crazy!"
"Oh but Aline!" he pleaded. "I'm on vacation—"
"Oliver Genévive Les Desmond if you do not concede I shall personally go to Nantes and drag you back to Paris!"
"Fine, fine! I'll be there in less than 24 hours…" and he hung up.
"I didn't know your second name was Genévive…" Enrique grinned.
Oliver shrugged. "When I was born, Maman named me Oliver…then peré walked in and thought I was a girl…" he shook his head when his best friend laughed. "What was that SMS about?"
The Italian smiled. "Bianca and Rosette want me to join them on a two week food trip in Tuscany…Bi's dad is picking me up in…" he consulted his watch. "…a couple of hours. I'd better tell Rob and John I'd be leaving soon. Aren't you coming too?"
The greenette said no. "You go ahead. I could afford to spend more time…even if it means Aline killing me."
"Alright, suit yourself. Ciao Oli…"
"Au revoir."
Enrique left the kitchen and packed. The German and the Scot returned from their game just as he was about to leave.
"Where are you going?" Johnny asked.
"Rosette and Bianca want me to join them on their food trip," he answered. "Oh and Oliver's been called away to his restaurant…but he doesn't want to leave yet."
Robert sighed. "Be back soon you two…we're having a team meeting in a week or so…"
"I will. You guys shall still be in Nantes, right?"
"You know it."
TWO WEEKS LATER
The door slowly opened to reveal emptiness within the cottage. The silence was deafening and the darkness blinding. Enrique Giancarlo Tornatore cautiously stepped inside, having the sudden need to do so. His hand groped the wall to look for the light switch, and blanched at the sight the met him when he turned it on.
A leg was lying on the blood stained carpet.
The Italian moved from the horrible scene in a daze. His hand dove into his pocket and searched for his mobile.
"Robert?! Johnny?!" he called.
He ran into the kitchen and almost fell over an arm. This time, he swore out loud.
"ROBERT?! JOHNNY?!" he called again.
He arrived at the mini-golf course and beheld two limbless torsos mounted on twisted golf clubs. They were clad in highly familiar clothing. The blonde tried his hardest not to retch and clung to the wild hope that everything was a really sick nightmare. He fumbled with his phone, hurrying to call his best friend when he made the mistake of walking in the bathroom.
"HOLY SHIT! Oliver, OLIVER! Please pick up! HELLO?! It's me, Enrique! Come to Nantes quick! Something's really…wrong…" the line got cut as he fell to the floor in shock.
Hours later, a Puegot drove up and a car door slammed. Light footsteps grew louder as Oliver caught up with Enrique.
"Mon Dieux!" he exclaimed when he saw the boy on the floor. "Enrique, Enri! Wake up!"
The Italian tried his best to support himself when he regained consciousness. The effort was in vain as he clung to the younger boy's coat.
"Oliver…"
"I didn't understand what you—" the French boy screamed when he saw what the blonde had.
Two heads were hanging from the ceiling of the bathroom. Its faces had been hacked off and thrown elsewhere but they were still recognizable…because of the unmistakable hairstyle.
"How…?" Oliver asked weakly.
Enrique was still tugging on the greenette's coat, unable of coherent speech. The young chef glanced at him then followed his gaze.
The walls have been used as paper and their friends' blood was the ink.
Tornatore, you're next. Les Desmond shall follow shortly
A sound like the thud of an axe against wood sounded on the room above theirs, namely the attic. The two friends shot an upward look at ceased breathing.
Heavy footfalls followed.
"Shit, whoever did this may be still here…" Enrique whispered.
"Come, come…" Oliver yanked on his arm. "My car's outside. We can drive to Paris and stay in my house…"
The footfalls were coming down the stairs.
"For the love of God, Enrique!" the French boy pleaded quietly.
The blonde was torn between respecting the memory of Johnny and Robert and saving themselves.
Footfalls were heard in the kitchen.
"Oliver I'm scared…"
A shadow was seen passing by the living room.
"ENRIQUE LET'S GO!" the greenette cried and the pair broke off at a run out the front door, past the porch and into the car.
"STEP ON IT!" the Italian yelled and they took off, speed rising to more than 120kph.
Enrique made another mistake of looking back. What he saw would be forever etched in his memory. A cloaked being, akin to an executioner, stood on the driveway, seemingly having come to life from a screwed horror movie.
TBC
A/N: …I know, I know…it's sounds absurd at first, right? Events get worse toward the later chapters so watch out for the next installment! …enjoy!xD and ciAo…