Mr. Evil mailbox..... I may put it in later.
Hope you enjoy the next chapter!
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Gordon leaned out of the window of the jet, Virgil had demanded on piloting, as always.
The ocean shimmered far below him, it's exterior almost utterly smooth, with the reservation of a ripple, provoked by a light wind, Gordon grinned slightly, the sea had inevitably been a origin of great console, he could survey it's ruthless waves or untroubled serenity eternally, bringing good contemplations along with bad, and helped him to find an answer, or to help him acknowledge it.
Sighing, he remembered where and why he was going.
Thinking about it, he wondered why Melissa was chosen as a target, she wasn't uncommonly popular, or unpopular, she was just, normal.
The sole thing he could think of was that she could paint, but that wasn't much of a lead, Sophie could paint, Joanne could paint.
Sighing, he decided to abandon the debate for a time, it could wait, he turned to examine Virgil next to him, who was humming annoyingly.
"Virg?" Gordon asked seemingly politely.
"Uh huh?" Virgil said, eyes trained on a carrier jet around a mile in front of them
"Shut up." Gordon leant back in his chair, the safety straps almost strangling him, he loosened them a bit, then made a mental note to ask Brains about them.
Virgil made no response to his comment, except he stopped humming - then started whistling, though Gordon now knew it was to annoy him.
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The funeral was what Gordon and Virgil had expected, lots of black, a vicar, that sort of thing.
The service started soon, Gordon kept his head down, listening only a little to the known words the vicar was solemnly saying, he had always been doubtful of funerals, the vicar had never met Melissa, never even seen her, it seemed wrong that he was talking about her being generous and such, when he didn't even know.
He almost smiled when the vicar said something about her being good and kind, she had kicked footballs through windows as much as he had, and had got even more detentions.
Virgil, Gordon knew, shared the same thoughts, they had discussed it before, well, discussed it with their mother.
The recollection was painful, he could remember Virgil coming in to the room when Lucille was tucking him into bed, and asking wether God was real, because the man on the television had said he wasn't.
Lucille had beckoned him over to Gordon's bed, and sat him on it, Gordon had sat up, interested.
"God is only in our hearts, Virgil, we can't see him, just as we can't see the air, can you se the air?" Lucille had asked gently, Virgil had shaken his head, eyes wide.
"God is like the air, he's there, but we can't see him, he helps us make hard decisions, helps us live our life, and he loves us."
"Why?" Gordon had asked.
"Because he does, it's not a why, it's a fact, he loves us, all of us."
"Even the baddies on cowboy films? And Tom from Tom and Jerry?" Virgil had, asked, head on his mother's shoulder.
Lucille had laughed, a soft, sweet laugh.
"Yes, them too, so, God isn't a man sitting on a cloud, he's part of all of us, he is real, and he isn't, if you only believe in things you can see, hear and touch, then he isn't real, but if you believe in yourself, then he is."
Virgil had nodded.
"Let's take you to bed." Virgil and Lucille had gone, it was the last he'd ever seen of his mother, the last time he had ever heard he sweet gentle voice, Jeff had taken her skiing the next morning, before Gordon was up, when he got up, his Grandma had told him they were out.
This didn't worry him, they had gone out before.
Two hours later, Jeff had called, Scott had answered it, John standing behind him, Gordon had known something was wrong when he had got into the lounge, Scott was standing, pale-faced, listening to the phone, he had given it to Grandma, and had left.
Gordon and Virgil had gone after him, to find him crying in his bedroom.
"Scott, what's the matter?" They had chorused, Scott had looked up.
"Mum is gone." He told them in a choked voice.
"What do you mean?" Virgil had asked, hugging Scott's ten year old self with his little seven year old one.
"She got killed on the skis, she's not coming back, she went to sleep and is never going to wake up."
In Virgil's room, an hour later, Virgil turned, ashen-faced.
"God didn't help mummy, mummy died, God isn't real, the man was right." He had said sharply.
Gordon had nodded, gripping his knees with his arms, tears running down his white face.
Gordon sighed, the memory hurt still.
".....let her soul rest in heaven, in eternal peace, amen." The vicar closed his holy book, nodded, and left, Gordon watched him go.
"Let's go, Gordo." Virgil muttered.
Melissa's mother was weeping in a friend's arms, she nodded, and they left the grounds.
They were halfway to the house, going past the forest where Melissa had been found, when they heard a blood-curdling shriek.
"What the...?" Virgil twisted round sharply, looking into the forest.
"We'd better check it out." Gordon yelled, and they ran into the deep green of the thick forest.
The branches hid most of their limited view, the greenness slightly scary, Gordon heard a hiss of a snake, then a bird cheeping, breaking into the silence.
Virgil led them into a clearing, Gordon's heart stopped when he saw what was in front of him.
A body, slumped over, on closer inspection, he saw it was Sophie, Melissa's friend, she looked alright, until Gordon turned her over.
Two gunshots in her back.
Gordon looked up at Virgil, who was pale.
"Who'll be next?"
Hope you enjoy the next chapter!
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Gordon leaned out of the window of the jet, Virgil had demanded on piloting, as always.
The ocean shimmered far below him, it's exterior almost utterly smooth, with the reservation of a ripple, provoked by a light wind, Gordon grinned slightly, the sea had inevitably been a origin of great console, he could survey it's ruthless waves or untroubled serenity eternally, bringing good contemplations along with bad, and helped him to find an answer, or to help him acknowledge it.
Sighing, he remembered where and why he was going.
Thinking about it, he wondered why Melissa was chosen as a target, she wasn't uncommonly popular, or unpopular, she was just, normal.
The sole thing he could think of was that she could paint, but that wasn't much of a lead, Sophie could paint, Joanne could paint.
Sighing, he decided to abandon the debate for a time, it could wait, he turned to examine Virgil next to him, who was humming annoyingly.
"Virg?" Gordon asked seemingly politely.
"Uh huh?" Virgil said, eyes trained on a carrier jet around a mile in front of them
"Shut up." Gordon leant back in his chair, the safety straps almost strangling him, he loosened them a bit, then made a mental note to ask Brains about them.
Virgil made no response to his comment, except he stopped humming - then started whistling, though Gordon now knew it was to annoy him.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The funeral was what Gordon and Virgil had expected, lots of black, a vicar, that sort of thing.
The service started soon, Gordon kept his head down, listening only a little to the known words the vicar was solemnly saying, he had always been doubtful of funerals, the vicar had never met Melissa, never even seen her, it seemed wrong that he was talking about her being generous and such, when he didn't even know.
He almost smiled when the vicar said something about her being good and kind, she had kicked footballs through windows as much as he had, and had got even more detentions.
Virgil, Gordon knew, shared the same thoughts, they had discussed it before, well, discussed it with their mother.
The recollection was painful, he could remember Virgil coming in to the room when Lucille was tucking him into bed, and asking wether God was real, because the man on the television had said he wasn't.
Lucille had beckoned him over to Gordon's bed, and sat him on it, Gordon had sat up, interested.
"God is only in our hearts, Virgil, we can't see him, just as we can't see the air, can you se the air?" Lucille had asked gently, Virgil had shaken his head, eyes wide.
"God is like the air, he's there, but we can't see him, he helps us make hard decisions, helps us live our life, and he loves us."
"Why?" Gordon had asked.
"Because he does, it's not a why, it's a fact, he loves us, all of us."
"Even the baddies on cowboy films? And Tom from Tom and Jerry?" Virgil had, asked, head on his mother's shoulder.
Lucille had laughed, a soft, sweet laugh.
"Yes, them too, so, God isn't a man sitting on a cloud, he's part of all of us, he is real, and he isn't, if you only believe in things you can see, hear and touch, then he isn't real, but if you believe in yourself, then he is."
Virgil had nodded.
"Let's take you to bed." Virgil and Lucille had gone, it was the last he'd ever seen of his mother, the last time he had ever heard he sweet gentle voice, Jeff had taken her skiing the next morning, before Gordon was up, when he got up, his Grandma had told him they were out.
This didn't worry him, they had gone out before.
Two hours later, Jeff had called, Scott had answered it, John standing behind him, Gordon had known something was wrong when he had got into the lounge, Scott was standing, pale-faced, listening to the phone, he had given it to Grandma, and had left.
Gordon and Virgil had gone after him, to find him crying in his bedroom.
"Scott, what's the matter?" They had chorused, Scott had looked up.
"Mum is gone." He told them in a choked voice.
"What do you mean?" Virgil had asked, hugging Scott's ten year old self with his little seven year old one.
"She got killed on the skis, she's not coming back, she went to sleep and is never going to wake up."
In Virgil's room, an hour later, Virgil turned, ashen-faced.
"God didn't help mummy, mummy died, God isn't real, the man was right." He had said sharply.
Gordon had nodded, gripping his knees with his arms, tears running down his white face.
Gordon sighed, the memory hurt still.
".....let her soul rest in heaven, in eternal peace, amen." The vicar closed his holy book, nodded, and left, Gordon watched him go.
"Let's go, Gordo." Virgil muttered.
Melissa's mother was weeping in a friend's arms, she nodded, and they left the grounds.
They were halfway to the house, going past the forest where Melissa had been found, when they heard a blood-curdling shriek.
"What the...?" Virgil twisted round sharply, looking into the forest.
"We'd better check it out." Gordon yelled, and they ran into the deep green of the thick forest.
The branches hid most of their limited view, the greenness slightly scary, Gordon heard a hiss of a snake, then a bird cheeping, breaking into the silence.
Virgil led them into a clearing, Gordon's heart stopped when he saw what was in front of him.
A body, slumped over, on closer inspection, he saw it was Sophie, Melissa's friend, she looked alright, until Gordon turned her over.
Two gunshots in her back.
Gordon looked up at Virgil, who was pale.
"Who'll be next?"