Oh, how angry his parents would be. He had left them for only a minute, just had to see that record in the store window. Pushing his long, dirty blonde locks out of his eyes to prevent them from blocking any part of his sight, he frantically turned in search of them when he was hit from behind, sending him down into one of the curbs. Grimacing as he pursed his lips, trying to force any of the grime that played home inside the gutters away from his mouth.
Before he had time to comprehend what had happened or the shoes belonging to those who had sent him forward flying past, he felt the shoulder of his shirt being pulled up, causing him to look up into the eyes of a teenager he had seen along with this boys' friends on the carousel occasionally. He had curly, blonde hair on the top while a few braids draped down. A jacket adorned his shoulders with a unique styling of embroidery, the patterns showing a colorful swirl of several lines and twists. Giving him a grin, the kid patted him on the shoulder that he hadn't pulled him up on, looking back towards two of his running friends of whom had obviously been the ones who knocked him to the ground. "Sorry 'bout that, bro," was his quick apology before hurrying off backwards, giving him a small, sarcastic salute. "Later, dude!" he shouted as he continued after the other two of whom seemed to be lugging something along with them.
Unable to hold his curiosity and forgetting all about his younger siblings, resoluting that they'd find their own way home, he raced over the the sidewalk so he would have a better chance of catching up. In one swift movement, a leap that all skate junkies would die to move fluently, he jumped onto one of the more uncomfortable, broken down benches made out of plain pine while leaping over the couple of whom had been making out on top of it. Ignoring their cries of protest and the boyfriend's threats to break every bone in his body he continued the pursuit after the gang.
Slowly, as if in a trance, he watched as everyone around him seemed to freeze in place while nothing else existed but him and the other three. Watching as he came upon the other blonde, who had just shoved past a rather grotesque looking man whose face was short one piercing of the look 'I just stuck my head in a tackle box' with his only free elbow, shifting him to the left in perfect view of what bundle he held in his arms.
Anticipation welling up inside him, half wondering whether it was stolen objects or possibly the ever popular marijuana, he lept up onto a tipped over garbage can to see over the crowd, but nearly fell off as he saw what lay in his arms.
A little boy, no older than seven with his head tilted back. His shorter, jet black hair hardly moved as he was toussled through the the crowed but one jolt sent his unmoving body up, revealing his face. And for the first time in his life, Edgar Frog felt sick at the sight of his little brother, of whom was now being forced along without an able protest away from the crowd.
Before he could stop himself, forcing to believe that he had seen anything from the truth, he turned in the direction of where the last member was leading in, long and dark hair reaching past his shoulder while it bounced with each step. He, too, was carrying something that was just as large as his little brother, and there was no escaping the rage in his eyes--a murderous look that could only be owned by one after a kill had been made.
As he rushed further along, abandoning the trash can while trying to catch up to know for sure--to have all the evidence he needed. One glance up at the posters on the wall, each and every one stating the word "MISSING", capitals included, urged him to ignore the forming stitch in his side until he had accomplished his goal. But as soon as he succeeded in getting ahead of where they were, the crowd having slowed them down, he gulped the rather large ball forming inside his throat down.
Clear as day, he saw the deep brown locks of his sister's hair cascading her face and falling down past her shoulders, tendrils escaping the rest the man's arms made for her head. As he looked closer, he had no idea what had drawn his eyes to this small, unprecise detail. Blinking savagely, trying to erase the sight from his mind, he took a deep breath before daring to look once more. And they were gone.
Startled at the sudden disappearance, he darted around, looking with a panicked look in search of the disappearance of his siblings, young fraternal twins Poe and Emily. As he looked up towards the light post out of instinct, he stared for barely three seconds before coming back to reality. The sky was no option. People can't fly, even if they do kill.
Uncertain of what to do, he looked around him, fighting down the two tears that welled up inside his eyes before turning back towards the direction where he had come from and he realized how short the distance from his parent's comic book store really was. While the events had played out for hours in his mind, lifetimes falling before his eyes, it had only made out to be short seconds on this plane of earth. Resigning him self to what he had to do, denying any fear of his parents, he raced towards the shop as his heart thudded, wishing his brother Alan hadn't been stocking shelves. Wishing it hadn't been his turn to take them home that night.
And wishing he could forget those two, well punctured marks on Emily's neck.