Post by F.A.Y.Z Maker on Mar 29, 2012 7:12:26 GMT 1
(Yeah yeah, I'm obsessing over Drake. Shhhh. XD XD XD XD
Note: AGAIN, if you have read GONE, my Drake is very, very different from GONE!Drake. GONE!Drake went to Coates for doing things to animals and shooting a boy. Mine went for an entirely different reason. )
It hadn’t taken long for Drake to realize what that sound coming from the other end of the phone was.
It also hadn’t taken long for Drake to grab his father’s gun from the gun rack.
It took about two minutes from the start of the ordeal to the red, sticky end. The boy pleaded for mercy, but Drake had none. The other boy pleaded for forgiveness, but Drake had none of that either.
Drake was standing in the alleyway, his fists bloody and the gun even bloodier. Holes riddled his enemies’ bodies but they weren’t dead. No. Drake knew where to shoot to make them live through the intense pain. And he would make them feel every single bit of it. He took the butt of the shotgun and used it as a club, smashing it into the skull of one of the kids, severing some important nerve endings. Drake smirked and flipped the gun back, shooting the other that thought he could get away with the distraction. The boy’s jacket flared open to reveal a hole directly in the boy’s lung and he fell.
Drake stood, shaking in pure rage as he lifted his gun up again and shot multiple times at the bodies.
It was extreme but through the red haze clouding his mind, it was the perfect punishment.
He turned and wrapped his arms around the little girl, lifting her up and carrying her far away from the alley, into the woods area where the two would play and Drake would hide the carcasses of the dead pets.
He gently laid the girl on the grass and tended to her wounds. At one point, he nearly walked away from the girl and back to the alley to smash his fists into their faces one more time.
But the girl stirred and looked up to Drake with big eyes and she smiled. She received a rare treat, a small caring smile from the boy, a smile that was reserved only for her. He gently tended to the bruises along her face and wrapped her broken arm in gauze.
She knew her brother had gone a bit too far in dealing out the punishment, but she found herself drifting back off in his arms as he carried her back to the house.
Sadly, he was unable to sneak past their father, and the bloody clothes hanging off of the both of them were enough to send him into an angry mood. Their mother quickly took the girl and called for an ambulance.
On the news the next day, there was a story about how two teenaged boys involved with human trafficking had been brutally attacked, but the attacker never got to see the video. He was already gone to a special school many miles away, one that dealed with misbehaved children.
The boy belonged there, if the small little pet graveyard outside their house was any indication.
But to the little girl, she could never view the boy that way.
(notes-
A. Drake does not like little kids, this is fact, if he met any of the Littles, they'd be dead or severely injured. They are loud, obnoxious, and far too helpless for his tastes.
HOWEVER.
B. You know the saying, "You hate kids except your own"? Same thing applies here. The little sister was his exception to the rule.
Also....I kinda want to write more about these two siblings and I don't know why....)
Note: AGAIN, if you have read GONE, my Drake is very, very different from GONE!Drake. GONE!Drake went to Coates for doing things to animals and shooting a boy. Mine went for an entirely different reason. )
It hadn’t taken long for Drake to realize what that sound coming from the other end of the phone was.
It also hadn’t taken long for Drake to grab his father’s gun from the gun rack.
It took about two minutes from the start of the ordeal to the red, sticky end. The boy pleaded for mercy, but Drake had none. The other boy pleaded for forgiveness, but Drake had none of that either.
Drake was standing in the alleyway, his fists bloody and the gun even bloodier. Holes riddled his enemies’ bodies but they weren’t dead. No. Drake knew where to shoot to make them live through the intense pain. And he would make them feel every single bit of it. He took the butt of the shotgun and used it as a club, smashing it into the skull of one of the kids, severing some important nerve endings. Drake smirked and flipped the gun back, shooting the other that thought he could get away with the distraction. The boy’s jacket flared open to reveal a hole directly in the boy’s lung and he fell.
Drake stood, shaking in pure rage as he lifted his gun up again and shot multiple times at the bodies.
It was extreme but through the red haze clouding his mind, it was the perfect punishment.
He turned and wrapped his arms around the little girl, lifting her up and carrying her far away from the alley, into the woods area where the two would play and Drake would hide the carcasses of the dead pets.
He gently laid the girl on the grass and tended to her wounds. At one point, he nearly walked away from the girl and back to the alley to smash his fists into their faces one more time.
But the girl stirred and looked up to Drake with big eyes and she smiled. She received a rare treat, a small caring smile from the boy, a smile that was reserved only for her. He gently tended to the bruises along her face and wrapped her broken arm in gauze.
She knew her brother had gone a bit too far in dealing out the punishment, but she found herself drifting back off in his arms as he carried her back to the house.
Sadly, he was unable to sneak past their father, and the bloody clothes hanging off of the both of them were enough to send him into an angry mood. Their mother quickly took the girl and called for an ambulance.
On the news the next day, there was a story about how two teenaged boys involved with human trafficking had been brutally attacked, but the attacker never got to see the video. He was already gone to a special school many miles away, one that dealed with misbehaved children.
The boy belonged there, if the small little pet graveyard outside their house was any indication.
But to the little girl, she could never view the boy that way.
(notes-
A. Drake does not like little kids, this is fact, if he met any of the Littles, they'd be dead or severely injured. They are loud, obnoxious, and far too helpless for his tastes.
HOWEVER.
B. You know the saying, "You hate kids except your own"? Same thing applies here. The little sister was his exception to the rule.
Also....I kinda want to write more about these two siblings and I don't know why....)
