Hey guys:) I know, I know, I'm still doing Reminiscence. And that's ok, cos I am!:D This is just an idea I had, and I wanted to run past you, to see how you like it. Obviously, I won't start writing it until Reminiscence is finished, which may take a while, so…:) Anyway. I hope you like this little prologue, and if you do, or don't, please review and tell me! Thank you so much in advance-I love you all!
It's Monday 14th November, 2016. A surge of snowfall during the early Winter had caused Woodcrest to be coated in a thick layer of powder, threatening window ledges and piled into towers along pathways. Any remainders of Autumn gold had been silenced by the snow, the dying trees bleak and ominous. Overnight, any beauty that had lingered in the world had vanished, replaced by cruel, cold reality. The sky was a watercolour of ice blue, so crisp and sharp it was painful to look at, the brilliant sunlight illuminating shadows into monsters, distorting the trees into demons and unmnetionables alike.
Huey Freeman was missing.
One Sunday evening, the night before, he had returned home from his girlfriend's as usual, though his brother did note that he seemed more disenhearted than before. The older brother had gone upstairs and straight to his room, ignoring some crude remark from his sibling as he locked himself away.
The house had been silent all night. In fact, the whole of Woodcrest had come to a standstill that evening, the snow falling thick and fast, unstoppable. Riley Freeman, just fourteen, had awoken at precisely three in the morning to hear some strange noises from the west wing of his house. Decided that it was burglars, he grabbed his baseball bat from beneath the bed, and proceed out into the hallway. He later admitted that his vision was impaired; the snowfall had conveniently cut off the power during the night, and so he stumbled towards the source of the noise, half-blind in the darkness.
Heading towards the West side of the house, he noticed that the noises grew in volume, and it sounded more like a fight than a few robbers nicking their things. The bat dragged against the carpet as he edged further towards the sounds, his heart beating frantically as adrenaline coursed furiously though his body. The noises increased in pitch, higher and higher until a yell echoed throughout the house, the note thrusting up against him as if to say listen. Listen to me!
And then there was silence.
And then Riley panicked, because only one person slept on the west wing of their house, and silence never meant anything good. Running now, his feet thumping hard against the floorboards, the carpet swallowing up his sounds, the younger brother charged into the bedroom, not registering that the door was already ajar.
The steady clunk of a wooden bat against carpet awoke Robert Freeman from his…sensual dreams, who grabbed his dressing gown and fastened it hastily, slippers clapping against the ground as he stormed towards the west side of the house, grumbling; those goddamned boys gonna be the end of me. Why me? What did I ever do to deserves these two nig-
And then Robert stopped short, as he stood beside his youngest grandson to survey the room before them. The curtain fluttered in the brief wind at one side, the window open slightly; not enough for a body, but enough for air and a few specks of snow to drift inside, collecting neatly on the spotless sill. The cluttered desk held a computer that was still on, the screen blaring feebly into the darkness of the bedroom, occasionally sputtering out with the power. Belongings were strewn all over the floor; books and papers, homework and clothing, and the bed itself had its sheets ripped from the centre, the duvet pooling onto the ground like a waterfall. A blood spattered waterfall.
The Police were called and treated the incident as a kidnapping. But who would want to kidnap my grandson?! Was Robert's strained question, his voice wavering, and the Policeman shrugged, forced sympathy plastered to his face: these things happen more often than you realise. We'll find him, don't worry.
Don't worry.
That had been the last thing Huey had ever said. The very last thing Riley had ever told his brother, was that he hated him. But it wasn't true. Not really.
Jazmine had appeared not long after the police did, a thick jumper over her pink onesie, emerald eyes ringed red and puffy from crying after learning that her boyfriend had vanished. Riley made her a hot chocolate in the kitchen, distracting himself, and grateful that she didn't mention he had added orange juice instead of milk.
If there had been any tracks made, the snow would have covered them in inches by now, and so there was no hope of finding his brother the usual way. That was when Riley decided, no matter what, that he was going to find Huey, with or without help.
The computer in the bedroom had finally died, wiping whatever Huey had last been doing from the world for good.
It wasn't going to be easy.