Songs are Last Christmas and Beautiful Boy
Christmas was just around the corner, and the Loud family restaurant was a flurry of activity. The warm, inviting aroma of holiday dishes wafted through the air, mingling with the cheerful chatter of patrons and the soft strains of festive music. Mr. Loud, with his customary holiday apron tied snugly around his waist, had called upon his children to lend a hand during the seasonal rush. Leni, ever the social butterfly, flitted between tables, greeting guests with a radiant smile. Luna, strummed festive tunes, adding to the merry ambiance. Luan, the family jokester, work diligently in the kitchen. Lynn Jr., with her athletic grace, served dishes with practiced ease. While Lincoln, ever the diligent helper, bussered alongside her, clearing tables and ensuring everything ran smoothly.
The family worked in perfect harmony, each member contributing their unique skills to create an unforgettable dining experience. Despite the occasional hiccup, their combined efforts ensured that the patrons received top-notch service.
However, as is often the case in the restaurant world, not every customer was entirely satisfied. One particularly irate man, sat at his table, glaring at his plate of jalapeño poppers. He caught Lynn's attention as she passed by, his voice cutting through the festive atmosphere.
"Excuse me, young lady, but these jalapeño poppers aren't to my liking. May I speak to the chef?" he demanded, his tone dripping with impatience.
Lynn, momentarily taken aback, raised an eyebrow and paused. She composed herself quickly, offering a professional, yet curious, response. "Uh, sure, but what seems to be the problem?" she inquired, genuinely interested in understanding the issue.
"Tsk, I thought I was eating at a fine establishment, but apparently you people don't know how to serve a decent appetizer without adding a little something extra." The man's voice dripped with sarcasm as he pointed to the bitten jalapeño poppers. Upon closer inspection, a small clump of hair became visible, tangled in the melted cheese and pepper filling.
Lynn's eyes widened in shock. "I'm sorry, sir. We'll get you a new batch right away, or would you like a..." Her voice trailed off as her panicked expression shifted to one of dry irritation. She tossed the plate back onto the table with a dismissive flick of her wrist, clearly unimpressed by the man's antics. "Hey buddy, do you think we're stupid? The only person in my family with black hair is my sister Lucy, and she's not here today."
The man shot up from his seat, his face flushing with indignation. "What are you trying to get at!? Are you saying I planted this? I demand to speak to your manager!"
Lynn's demeanor hardened as she barked back, "You ain't speaking to no one but me! Now you either pay up or eat the rest of this popper because leaving is no longer an option!"
The man glared intently at Lynn, his eyes narrowing with a fierce intensity. Lynn met his gaze head-on, her posture unwavering and defiant, signaling that she wasn't about to take any crap. The confrontation quickly drew attention, creating a ripple of murmurs and hushed whispers among the other diners. The once lively and festive atmosphere of the restaurant became tinged with tension as patrons paused to watch the unfolding drama.
Meanwhile, Lincoln, who had been quietly observing the scene, couldn't shake off an uncomfortable feeling about the man. He wore an olive trench coat that hung loosely around his frame and a red beanie pulled low over his forehead. His turtleneck shirt was stained in several places, and his fingerless gloves revealed dirt-smudged fingers. His long, curly hair was tangled and unkempt, framing a face that looked weary and haggard. His eyes were sunken and dark, giving him a gaunt appearance.
A small, protruding pot belly strained against his clothing, and his face glistened with moisture, as if he had just finished a light jog. The yellow stains on his teeth were visible when he spoke, and an unpleasant body odor lingered around him, making those nearby recoil slightly.
The Loud family had always been taught not to judge a book by its cover, but Lincoln—and perhaps many others in the restaurant—could sense that this man was different. There was an unpredictability about him, a sense of instability that made Lincoln uneasy.
Then he said something that sent a chill down Lynn's spine. His voice dropped to a menacing growl as he locked eyes with her. "Now look here, you little brat. I don't care about what you think is on this plate. Because as of now..." He paused, picking up the remaining hair-infested jalapeño popper, and with a disturbing calm, he ate it. "...I ain't leaving here either."
Lynn's scowl faltered, shifting to one of fear. She was tough and always knew how to stand her ground, but like Lincoln, she sensed something deeply unsettling about this man. His very presence seemed to darken the air around them.
Suddenly, a voice rang out, breaking the tense silence. "Hey! Stay the hell away from my daughter!" Lynn Loud Sr. shouted as he approached. He quickly pulled Lynn Jr. to the side, shielding her from the man's eerie glare.
"Now listen here, mister," Lynn Sr. said, his voice firm despite the tremor of anger underlying his words. "I can handle rude customers and reasonable complaints, but once you start threatening my family, you've crossed the line." Though Lynn Sr. wasn't known for his bravery in confrontations, in this moment, he did what any father would do—he stepped up to protect his family.
The man now walked toward Lynn Sr., swaying side to side with an unsettling swagger. His every step seemed to echo with an ominous rhythm, drawing all eyes in the room. Lynn Sr.'s gaze was locked onto him, his head tracking the man's movements with unflinching intensity. The air between them crackled with tension, so thick it felt as though it could be sliced with a knife.
The man finally spoke, his lips smacking with a blend of arrogance and menace. "Well-aren't you going to compensate me?" His voice carried an edge that made the demand sound more like a threat.
Lynn wasn't intimidated in the slightest. He met the man's gaze head-on, his expression hardening. "Leave," he commanded sharply.
The other patrons, fed up with the ongoing disruption, began to rise from their seats. Mr. Bolhofner, Coach Pocowski, Chunk, Mr. Grouse, and other burly men stepped forward, their presence adding weight to Lynn Sr.'s words. Even Scoots, despite her inability to stand, revved up her scooter and called out, "Hey Loud, want us to take care of him?"
The man glanced around, taking in the unified front that stood against him. Realizing he was outnumbered, he nodded slowly, a cocky grin spreading across his face. "Loud, huh? I'll remember that," He uttered, before leaving the restaurant
Luan's head popped out from the service window, sensing the uneasy atmosphere in the room. She decided to break the ice with a cocky joke.
"Hey, do you know what the difference is between this guy and jalapeño poppers?" She paused for dramatic effect. "One is a spicy treat, and the other is just... full of hot air!"
The crowd erupted into laughter, the sound echoing through the restaurant and breaking the stillness like a burst balloon. As it dies down, they've returned to their seats, chuckling and shaking their heads.
Seizing the moment, Luna picked up her guitar and strummed the opening chords of "Last Christmas," transforming the classic tune into a lively rock anthem. Her voice soared through the room, and soon enough, people were tapping their feet, clapping their hands, and even getting up to dance. Under the twinkling holiday lights, the Loud family restaurant buzzed with a renewed sense of normalcy and cheer.
As the clock struck 5 PM, the Loud family decided to close Lynn's Table earlier than usual—it was, after all, Christmas Eve. The dimming evening light cast a warm glow through the restaurant windows, illuminating the family as they bustled about. They counted the remaining inventory, methodically sweeping up and cleaning the dishes with a sense of accomplishment. Each task was accompanied by supportive compliments.
Normally, the Louds wouldn't operate the restaurant during the holiday break, choosing instead to immerse themselves in the festive spirit of gift searching and quality time. But this year, Lynn Sr. had a special plan in mind. The extra income from the restaurant was more than just a financial boost; it was a step toward a grand surprise. He had been secretly saving up for a family vacation to the snowy slopes, where they could unwind and play in a winter wonderland. The thought of revealing this tomorrow filled him with quiet joy, knowing it would be the best Christmas present he could give.
As the last dish was dried and put away, Lynn Sr. locked up the restaurant for the night. The cold air outside bit at their cheeks as the family piled into Vanzilla, their breath visible in the crisp night. Laughter and chatter filled the van, creating a bubble of warmth against the snowy fog that enveloped them.
Unknown to them, a cyan hatchback with tinted windows started to follow their journey home, its headlights piercing through the fog in a steady, unyielding pursuit. The vehicle's ominous presence went unnoticed as the Louds drove off into the winter night.
They reach their destination, stepping into their warm and welcoming home, a stark contrast to the cold, darkening night outside. Inside, the younger siblings were busy wrapping presents, their giggles and chatter filling the room with a festive cheer. The Christmas tree stood in the corner, its lights twinkling merrily and casting colorful reflections across the walls.
Mrs. Loud, cradling the phone between her shoulder and ear, was deep in conversation with Lori about her upcoming arrival.
"Hi, honey! Are you going to be able to make it tomorrow?" Mrs. Loud's voice carried a mix of hope and excitement.
"Yeah, Mom, I'll be there," Lori's voice crackled through the phone. "Bobby and I wouldn't miss Christmas with you guys for the world."
"That's wonderful, sweetie. We can't wait to see you both," Mrs. Loud replied, her face lighting up with a smile that echoed the warmth in her voice.
Meanwhile, Lola, focused on wrapping her gifts with precision, noticed Lincoln absentmindedly observing her. With a deft flick of her wrist, she launched a stuffed toy at him. "Lincoln, don't look!" she commanded, her tone playful yet stern.
"Ouch! What was that for, Lola?" Lincoln exclaimed, rubbing the spot where the toy had hit him.
"Oh, quit exaggerating, will ya? It's just a stuffed toy. Besides, you know the rule: no peeking inside," she said, positioning herself over her gift.
"Whatever," Lincoln muttered, his voice laced with indifference as he head upstairs.
While it might have seemed harsh for Lola to treat Lincoln this way, she had her reasons. Just like their dad, she wanted her gift to be a huge surprise. Lincoln had gifted her a pair of emerald earrings last Christmas that had left her awestruck by his thoughtfulness. This year, she was determined to reciprocate with something equally special—a limited edition Ace Savvy comic. This particular edition was darker and edgier, exploring the deepest recesses of the criminal mind with graphic tales of murder and heinous deeds, a true collector's item for any fan.
As Christmas Eve deepens, the cozy home of the Loud family comes alive with a unique blend of warmth and activity. Leni, ever the model, strikes a glamorous pose for a selfie, capturing the festive atmosphere in each shot. She sends her best photos to Gavin, ensuring he feels a part of the celebration.
Luna, taking a rare break from her music, lounges on the couch, her fingers gliding over her playlist as she scrolls lazily. A contented sigh escapes her lips, appreciating the tranquil moment amidst the holiday buzz.
Luan, always the helpful one, is in the thick of the action, assisting Lucy and Lisa with wrapping the last of the presents. Their laughter, full of joy and mischief, mixes with the festive air, creating a symphony of holiday cheer.
Lynn, competitive as ever, engages in yet another round of Connect Four with little Lily. She wins for what feels like the hundredth time, each victory dance prompting playful eye-rolls and exaggerated groans from her tiny opponent.
Meanwhile, Lana is in her element, treating Charles and the other pets to an early Christmas feast. The excitement of the pets is clear as they relish their special holiday treats, their joy adding to the evening's enchantment.
Lynn Sr. and Rita, dressed in their cozy sleepwear, join Luna on the couch. The room is bathed in the nostalgic glow of classic Christmas movies, creating a warm sanctuary as they cuddle up with their children. Surrounded by their loved ones, the warmth of family and the magic of the season envelop them all in a comforting embrace, making this Christmas Eve truly unforgettable.
Amid the height of the Christmas spirit, Lola felt Lincoln was missing out on all the fun. "C'mon Lincoln, this is a night to spend together as a family," she muttered as she headed upstairs. She noticed the door to Lincoln's room was slightly ajar. Hearing the rustling of wrapping paper and the sound of tape being pulled, she peered inside.
"Lincoln?" Lola called softly as she slowly entered the room.
"Ahhhh!" Lincoln shouted, startled by Lola's presence. "Lola, there is a thing called knocking. Have you ever heard of it?" he said, his tone laced with sarcastic annoyance.
"Geez, sorry Lincoln. I just wanted to call you down. Everyone is having a blast together, and you're not there." Her eyes fell on the wrapping of an unfinished gift. The size was elongated and not in the usual square-shaped box of a present. Leaning on Lincoln's dresser, the shape resembled a long L. "Huh, Lincoln, if what I'm assuming is correct, I'm pretty sure that's a hockey stick."
Lincoln sighed, frustrated by his futile attempt to wrap the gift. "Lola, close the door," he said. She complied and sat down on his bed as he patted it.
"As you can see, I'm trying to wrap this for Lynn," Lincoln began. "A few months ago, I broke her favorite hockey stick, and she was pretty pissed. So as an apology, I got this one signed by her favorite player, Rowdy McQuads."
"Wow, Lincoln," Lola said, amazed. "Lynn is going to be so stoked for this."
Lincoln smiled. "Yeah, thanks. I wanted to make it right, but even if I wrap this up, Lynn will know for sure what it is." He slumped back in his chair with a sigh of defeat. "I have no idea how to present this to her."
Lola narrowed her eyes and rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "You know," she paused, "when everyone else is asleep, you can place it behind the tree next to the wall. That way, you won't be spotted and you can reveal it the way you wanted it to."
Lincoln's eyes widened with excitement as he sprang up to hug Lola. "Lola, you're a genius! Why didn't I think of that?" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with enthusiasm.
Lola basked in his praise, flaunting a proud smile. "Well, of course, you're talking to me," she responded, her tone dripping with playful confidence.
"And here I thought I was the man with the plan," he said.
Blushing at his compliment, Lola replied warmly, "Why don't I help you finish wrapping? Then you can spend the rest of the night with the family."
"That sounds great," Lincoln agreed. He gently picked up his little sister and placed her on his lap. Together, they continued wrapping Lynn's gift, their hands moving in sync as they passed tape and paper, carefully covering the hockey stick.
Suddenly, Lincoln realized something. "Now that I think about it, I really didn't want anyone to see this," he said, his brow furrowing slightly. Hey, Lola, by any chance was that gift earlier for me?"
Lola stopped Lincoln by gently placing a finger on his lips, her expression stern yet playful. "Atatatatata. No comment," she demanded, her tone leaving no room for argument. Despite her firm words, a small, soft smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. With that unspoken understanding, they both turned their attention back to the task at hand.
Meanwhile, the man waited patiently in the cold night. His car was parked across from the house, nearly buried in a deep drizzle of snow that muffled the world around him. The engine idled in a soft, rhythmic hum, creating a steady background noise. He flicked open his lighter, the small flame flickering before catching the tip of his cigarette. Inhaling deeply, he exhaled a plume of smoke that mingled with the cold air, momentarily visible in the dim light
The car radio crackled with static and garbled sounds as he meticulously turned the dial, seeking a clear signal. Each twist brought a different cacophony of noises, until finally, he found the station he was looking for. The static gave way to a clear broadcast, the host's voice cutting through the night, bringing both news and a chilling warning to the tranquil scene.
"Good evening, folks. This is your local station RWRS, hoping you're having a safe and joyous Christmas Eve. As you gather with your loved ones, we must share an urgent bulletin."
"We have received reports of an escaped convict in our area. Authorities are urging all residents to be on high alert. The individual in question is Ivan Cold, a man with a history of violent and unstable behavior. Tragically, during his escape, he has already taken the lives of two law enforcement officers and is considered extremely dangerous."
"Ivan Cold is described as having long, curly black hair and dark brown eyes. He has a round face, weighs approximately 250 pounds, and stands about 5'10" to 6 feet tall."
"We strongly advise all residents to stay indoors and ensure your homes are secure. If you see anyone matching this description or acting suspiciously, do not approach him. Instead, immediately call 911 and provide as much information as possible. Your safety and the safety of our community is our top priority."
"Let's all do our part to ensure a safe and peaceful holiday. Goodnight everyone, and have a Merry Christmas. This is Patchy Drizzle, signing off."
The radio then began to play a Christmas jingle, and the familiar tune of "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" filled the car, lightening the mood. The man hummed along to the song, his voice low and almost cheerful. His hum grew louder, particularly on the lyrics, "He sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake, he knows if you've been bad or good so be good for goodness' sake."
As he hummed those words, his eyes drifted down to the cold steel resting on his lap, a hidden firearm eerily similar to those used by law enforcement. The juxtaposition of the festive tune and the deadly weapon was chilling, a stark reminder of the danger lurking beneath the surface of his seemingly calm exterior.
Around midnight, the Loud house was enveloped in the tranquility of deep sleep. All except for Lincoln. He tossed and turned in his bed, gripped by a horrifying nightmare. In his dream, a tall, dark figure stood menacingly, slowly advancing towards him. The shadow loomed at the edge of his bed, hovering ominously. Paralyzed with fear, Lincoln could do nothing but watch as it extended its hand towards him.
But instead of reaching for him, the shadow grabbed the hockey stick next to his bed, gripping it so tightly that it snapped in two. The sharp, sudden sound jolted Lincoln out of his nightmare.
"Lyyyynnn!" he shouted, waking up in a cold sweat. Panting heavily, he tried to calm down from the terrifying experience. As his breathing steadied, his eyes found the gift he had wrapped for Lynn, still intact and sitting by his bedside. The sight brought a small measure of comfort, grounding him back in reality.
He thought to himself, "Right, the hockey stick." As he got up with the present and tread carefully down the stairs, each step he took was cautious, not wanting to wake anyone and ruin the surprise. He saw the tree and carefully placed his present behind it. Whispering an excited "Yes," he fist-pumped in triumph.
"What cha doing here, Stinkon?" came a familiar voice.
He flinched and turned around to see Lynn. She had her arms crossed, her eyes half-lidded as she tapped her foot, waiting for an answer.
"Lynn! Why are you awake, and what are you doing out of bed?"
"I could ask you the same thing. Besides, I have an excuse. Dad told me to keep guard of the presents tonight. He said everyone is getting a special gift tonight and then some. Whatever that means. So, I'll ask again. What are you doing, Stinkon?"
He stood there, darting glances between Lynn and the presents, his mind racing to piece together her assumptions. "Lynn, it's not what you think!" he whispered urgently, trying to defend himself.
"Oh, really? Then what exactly am I seeing?" Lynn replied, her tone dry and skeptical.
Desperately searching for an escape, Lincoln's eyes landed on the blanket and pillow laid out on the couch. Embarrassment washed over him as he rubbed the back of his head. "I had a nightmare," he admitted.
"A nightmare?" Lynn echoed, her disbelief evident. "Come on, Lincoln, you can come up with a better story than that."
"I'm telling the truth!" he insisted, his voice firm. "I-I had a nightmare. And it was about you," he stammered.
"Me?" Lynn's stance softened, curiosity replacing her skepticism.
"Yes, you," he affirmed. "I don't know why, but I have this nagging feeling that something is off." Lowering his head, he then looked up, his eyes filled with worry that pierced through to Lynn. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"
She looked at her brother, his sudden shift in mood making her reconsider her assumptions. "Fine," she exasperated. "But don't go taking my…"
"Thanks!" he interrupted, dashing to Lynn's spot. He fell asleep instantly. Lynn facepalmed, realizing she'd need to go upstairs to grab a new blanket and pillow.
Returning downstairs, she noticed a dim light glaring through the window. Curious, she peered through the blinds and saw a car with its lights still on. "Strange," she murmured. "Why would anyone be driving this late on a cold, snowy night?"
She shrugged it off. "Meh, probably last-minute Christmas shopping," she concluded. Then she settled down on the other end of the couch, mirroring Lincoln's position, and closed her eyes to sleep.
The comforting presence of Lynn beside him erased Lincoln's previous worries. Their legs gently brushed against each other, and that simple touch made him feel secure, knowing his older sister was there to protect him. As he drifted into sleep, his mind echoed, "Why am I so attached to Lynn?"
In an instant, Lincoln was transported to a serene beach, the sun warm and inviting. He found himself under a vibrant, colorful umbrella, lounging on a perfectly laid towel. From a distance, the joyous laughter of his sisters filled the air as they splashed and played in the waves. He glanced to his left and saw Lynn sitting beside him, her presence a welcoming leisure.
"Come on, Lincoln! Join the fun! It's not the same without you," Lynn urged, her voice brimming with excitement.
"Go on ahead, Lynn," Lincoln said, trying to sound convincing. "Have fun without me."
Lynn shook her head, determination flashing in her eyes. "That's not the point, Lincoln. We need to make the most of our time together. Lori's already moved out, and Leni will soon follow. Before you know it, I'll be off winning gold at the Olympics."
Lincoln laughed softly, raising an eyebrow in playful disbelief. "Who are you, and what have you done with my sister?" he teased. "Seriously, why are you getting all sentimental, Lynn?"
She squeezed his hand gently, her eyes conveying a depth of emotion that words could not. Her silence spoke volumes, and Lincoln felt the weight of her unspoken plea. He sighed, finally surrendering to her insistence. "Alright, you win. Let's go."
"Awesome!" Lynn cheered, her delight evident. She grabbed Lincoln's hand and led him toward the water, where they joined their sisters in playful splashes. The siblings basked in the summer sun, feeling its endless warmth on their skin.
Lurking beneath the shimmering surface, a tarpon-like fish observed the siblings with keen, beady eyes. It moved stealthily, its sleek, silvery body gliding through the water like a shadow. The fish waited for the perfect moment, and with a mischievous flick of its powerful tail, it darted toward the unsuspecting children.
The water erupted into a chaotic frenzy, waves crashing and splashes flying in every direction. Droplets glistened in the sunlight, creating a dazzling display as they rained down on the startled siblings. They found themselves surrounded by a whirlwind of frothy water, the splashes forming a ring around them. Eight distinct bursts of water scattered around their feet, each one startling them more than the last.
Their playful laughter turned to cries of surprise as they tried to regain their balance, the unexpected aquatic visitor disrupting their fun. Annoyance quickly set in as they realized they were at the mercy of the mischievous creature beneath the waves, adding an unexpected twist to their day at the beach.
Lynn Sr. burst into the water, his voice booming with panic. "IS EVERYONE ALRIGHT?" His face was a mask of sheer terror as he scanned the chaotic scene.
Lincoln, trying to diffuse the tension, laughed it off. "Dad, would you relax? It's just a fish. Nothing to worry about."
But Leni's frantic voice pierced through the commotion. "Oh my god, what was that!?"
"It's just a fish, Leni," Lincoln repeated, trying to reassure her. But then he noticed Luna, panting heavily, tears welling in her eyes. A sense of unease gripped him; something was off.
Suddenly, Lincoln felt an unsettling sensation in his throat. A rush of water surged from his mouth, the liquid escaping in a slow, deliberate stream, reminiscent of paint oozing down a wall. He instinctively touched his lips, feeling the unusual texture of the water. It was thick and warm, with a metallic tang that left an odd taste of iron lingering on his tongue. The sensation was both foreign and alarming, adding to the growing sense of unease that had begun to settle over him.
Lincoln opened his eyes and found himself back in his living room, the familiar surroundings doing little to calm his bewilderment. His dad was a whirlwind of activity, rushing in and out of the door, each movement filled with frantic energy as he desperately tried to determine the source of the alarming noise. The urgency in his steps and the furrowed lines on his forehead conveyed a deep sense of dread and urgency.
By the stairway, Leni, Luna, Luan, and Lynn huddled together, their faces painted with wide-eyed fear and anxious expressions. Each sibling's voice contributed to a cacophony of confusion, overlapping and blending into a chorus of concern.
"What was that sound? Fireworks?" Leni asked, her voice high-pitched with fear.
"No way, it sounded more like a motor revving really loud!" Luna chimed in, her eyes darting around the room.
"Are you kidding? It was definitely gunshots!" Luan exclaimed, her face pale.
Lynn nodded in agreement, her voice shaking. "Yeah, look at those holes in the walls. They're round and clustered together—definitely bullet holes. This is serious."
She pointed to the small holes scattered around the room, drawing everyone's attention to the evidence before them. The siblings fell silent, the realization sinking in, deepening their unease. Upstairs, Lincoln could hear his mom, soothing his younger siblings with a calm, reassuring tone.
"What was that!?" Lana asked terrified.
"Shh, it's alright Lana. It's just a loud noise." Rita replied, her voice steady and soothing.
"But I'm scared," Lola whimpered.
"I know, sweetie. But just take a deep breath. We'll figure out what happened," Rita reassured.
Amidst the chaos, Lincoln's thoughts crystallized, and a terrifying truth dawned upon him—someone had committed a hit and run. Snapping out of his trance, he realized he had been shot and needed medical attention asap. Desperation surged through him, as he tried to get off the couch. But he collapsed to his knees, the strength to stand was completely gone. It wasn't until Leni's eyes went wide and her face turned pale that anyone noticed. She saw her brother crawling towards them, leaving a gruesome trail of blood in his wake.
"LINCOOOLN!" she screamed, her voice piercing through the walls. She shoved Luan and Luna aside as she rushed to his aid. Dropping to the floor, she quickly grabbed him, cradling him in her arms.
"Lincoln! Lincoln!" she repeated, her voice trembling with fear and desperation. Words failed to capture the depth of her panic. For the blood in his mouth could no longer be contained, oozing out and spreading like a plague. It poured relentlessly, staining Leni's clothes and the floor beneath them.
Lynn Sr. stood frozen, dumbfounded, watching his son bleed out before his eyes. The look of horror on his face was unmistakable. Leni, seeing her father's paralysis, was consumed by a mix of rage and concern. "FOR FUCK'S SAKE, DAD, CALL 911!" she yelled, her voice breaking through his stupor.
Rita heard the scream from upstairs and immediately sprang into action. "Lucy, Lana, Lola, Lisa, stay here!" she commanded, her voice firm and resolute. She gently set down a crying Lily, who clung to her, begging her not to go.
Rita rushed past the huddled girls by the stairs, their wide eyes reflecting the unfolding horror. "MY BABY!" Rita's voice cracked as she reached Lincoln's side, her hands hovering over him, unsure where to start. "No, no, no!" she babbled, panic taking over.
Lincoln's blood continued to seep into his throat, causing him to choke. He coughed violently, splattering blood onto Rita and Leni's faces. They screamed in unison fearing the worst. The pool of blood beneath Lincoln grew, finally reaching Lynn's feet. The sight jolted her into action. "Mom, move over!" she ordered, sitting down beside them. "Someone, anyone, bring something to stop the bleeding!"
Without hesitation, Luna pulled off her shirt, revealing her black bra, and tossed it to Lynn. Lynn caught it and pressed it against Lincoln's jaw, trying to stem the flow of blood. But the pressure was too much for Lincoln, and he swatted her hand away in pain. "Hold still, Lincoln!" she pleaded, struggling to keep the cloth in place.
Luna's frustration with Lynn's attempts to help was concerning. She grabbed Lynn's arm, pulling her aside "Lynn, stop! You're hurting him!" she exclaimed. Dropping to her knees, Luna's movements became tender as she carefully placed her hand on Lincoln's jaw. "Shh, shh, shh, I've got you, baby bro," she whispered, her voice soft and soothing.
Despite Luna's gentle touch, Lincoln's distress only seemed to worsen. His eyes widened, their usual brightness replaced by a haunting, glassy stare. Quick, gasping breaths escaped his lips, each one more desperate than the last. Luna's attempt to stay strong began to crumble as she watched the agony etched on her brother's face. The sight was unbearable; his suffering was a silent scream that tore through her heart.
Tears welled up in Luna's eyes, spilling over and tracing down her cheeks. The facade of composure she had tried so hard to maintain shattered. "What's happening to him?" she cried out, her voice breaking with a mix of fear and helplessness. She whimpered softly, her whole body trembling as she held onto Lincoln's head, feeling utterly powerless against the horror.
"HE'S LITERALLY CHOKING ON HIS OWN BLOOD!" Luan's urgent shout pierced the air. "We have to do something!" She pushed her way in, the others quickly moving aside to give her space.
Luna, her voice trembling, asked, "What else can we do?" Her hands shook as she tried to steady herself.
"He'll choke to death before he bleeds to death!" Luan replied, desperation clear in her tone. She gently but firmly moved Luna aside, urging her to stop applying pressure. "Leni, put Lincoln flat on the floor!" she instructed, her voice steady despite the panic.
Leni quickly complied, laying Lincoln down as Luan prepared to administer CPR. Her movements were frantic, switching between pumping down on his chest and locking lips to give him breaths. Each attempt seemed more futile than the last, as Lincoln's gasps grew weaker and more desperate. "Lincoln, stay with me!" Luan pleaded, her voice breaking with emotion.
All hope seemed lost until, suddenly, Lincoln jerked upright, a violent coughing fit wracking his body. His eyes bulged with the effort, his face contorted in pain. Luan, quick to act, began pounding his back, each forceful strike designed to help him expel whatever was lodged in his throat.
Without warning, a jagged fragment of metal shot out of Lincoln's mouth, accompanied by a fresh gush of blood. The sight was both horrifying and relieving. Lincoln's breathing, initially desperate and shallow, began to stabilize. Each breath came more evenly, the panicked gasps giving way to a steady rhythm.
The family, surrounding him in a tense semicircle, collectively exhaled—a huge sigh of relief. They watched in awe as Lincoln, now able to breathe freely, began to recover. "You did it!" Leni cried out, her hands clasped over her mouth in disbelief.
Lynn, ever the tomboy, gave Luan a playful punch on the arm. "Now that's how you hustle," she said, her voice filled with admiration.
Everyone seemed to gravitate towards Luan, their hero in that moment. Lincoln, exhausted and weak, started to slump backward, but Luan was there to catch him. "I've got you, Lincoln. I got you," she murmured, her voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves.
Rita, with tears glistening in her eyes, cracked a weak but genuine smile. She placed a reassuring hand on Luan's shoulder, her voice soft with gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered, her words carrying the weight of a mother's relief and appreciation.
In the heat of the moment, Luan didn't realize how drenched Luna's shirt was. She quickly addressed Lynn, "Grab a towel!" Instead, Lynn tossed her shirt to Luan and ran upstairs to fetch one. Just outside Lana and Lola's room, Lynn could hear her younger sisters whimpering behind the door. She gave a gentle knock. "How y'all holding up?"
Lucy answered, "Lynn, is that you? We keep hearing everyone screaming Lincoln. Please tell me he's okay."
"He's... he's fine. I promise he's fine," Lynn replied, her voice wavering and uncertain. "Just—please don't leave the room. I'll check in when everything settles down."
Lynn ran to the bathroom, yanked a towel off the door hook, and hurried back to Luan, handing her the hefty fabric. Luan then removed Lynn's shirt and placed the towel on Lincoln's wound, improving absorption and preventing further leakage.
As Lincoln's breathing grew more stable, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest began to quiet the chaotic atmosphere that had gripped the house. The sheer relief that washed over everyone was palpable, their anticipation easing as Lincoln appeared more serene. Then, with a weak but reassuring smile, Lincoln looked up at Luan. Her heart swelled with a flicker of hope as she returned his smile. "I think... I think he's going to be okay," she stammered joyfully.
Lincoln glanced around, his eyes meeting those of his mother and sisters, who were now filled with a mixture of relief and elation. Despite the pain that coursed through his body, he felt a profound contentment knowing he was surrounded by his loving family. His eyelids grew heavy, drooping to the brink of closing. A warm, soothing sensation enveloped him, transforming the encroaching darkness into a comforting, shining white light.
His head lolled to the side as his strength waned, unable to keep himself upright any longer. The hopeful smiles that had blossomed on everyone's faces began to falter. In that split second, the room's atmosphere shifted dramatically, the joy that had briefly flourished was now overshadowed by a renewed sense of dread and uncertainty. The air grew heavy once more, filled with unspoken fears and the weight of the unknown.
"Lincoln?" Leni whispered. When he didn't respond, Rita quickly checked his pulse. "Oh my God..." she gasped, her jaw dropping. Everyone stared at their mother in suspense. "He's gone," was all she could muster.
A heavy, oppressive silence hung in the air, one that Luan couldn't shake. She stared down at the lifeless body she was holding, the cold realization settling in. "I can't believe it. My baby brother died in my arms," she murmured, her voice devoid of emotion as if the enormity of her loss had numbed her completely.
Her heart sank, a painful ache spreading through her chest. Her jaw clenched as she tried to hold back the sobs threatening to escape, but it was no use. She hunched over Lincoln's body, her shoulders shaking with grief. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she let out a blood-curdling scream. "Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" The sound was raw and agonizing, echoing through the room and piercing the suffocating silence.
She cradled her baby brother, rocking him gently back and forth, trying to absorb the devastating reality of her loss. The weight of her grief was almost unbearable, each moment stretching into an eternity. Nearby, Leni and Rita clung to each other, their bodies wracked with sobs as they mourned relentlessly, the tragedy sinking deep into their hearts.
As for Luna, her grief was a stark contrast to Luan's. Instead of an explosive wave of emotion, Luna's sorrow seeped out in shaking, uncontrollable whimpers. She gently caressed her brother's head, her fingers trembling as she added a soft kiss to his forehead. Her tears mingled with her touch, each drop a silent testament to her heartache.
Being the musician she was, Luna turned to the only thing that brought her solace—music. She began to sing a soothing lullaby, her voice soft and tender, yet laden with raw emotion. "Close your eyes... Have no fear... The monster's gone... and your sister's here..." The words flowed gently, each one a fragile thread of comfort woven into the dark tapestry of her loss.
But as she continued, her voice began to falter. The weight of her grief was too much, causing her melody to crumble amongst the lyrics. "Beautiful, Beautiful, Beautiful, Beautiful Boy," she sang, her voice breaking with each word.
The collective sobbing was all they could do at this point. However, Lynn stood apart from her family, dry-eyed and motionless. She took a step back, then another, her gaze fixed on the scene unraveling before her very eyes. The full horror of it struck her like a physical blow, shaking her to her very core. Around her grieving family, a sea of red spread across the carpet floor, staining everything in its path.
The blood was everywhere—spreading across the stairway, seeping into the fibers of the living room carpet, even staining the once-innocent couch. It was on her family, it was on her. It felt as if they were all bathing in Lincoln's blood, each drop a macabre reminder of their loss. Lynn stood frozen, her eyes wide with a mile-long stare, unable to look away from the gruesome tableau.
Finally, the paramedics arrived, their flashing lights casting eerie shadows across the blood-stained backdrop. Guided by her father, they hurried to the gruesome scene. Meanwhile, her younger sisters upstairs screamed in pure agony, their cries echoing through the house as they grasped the full horror of the situation. The cacophony of weeping, yelling, and sirens all became a distant hum to Lynn's ears, as if she were submerged underwater.
Her gaze fixed on her brother, lying still amidst the chaos. Despite the blood that stained his clothes and the floor beneath him, his face remained serene, a faint smile lingering on his lips. The sight of his peaceful expression amidst the turmoil struck Lynn deeply, a surreal image that would be forever etched in her memory. The world around her faded into the background, leaving her alone with her grief and the haunting smile of her lost sibling.