Fury Chapter 1

It was a beautiful summer day The kind you are supposed to happily wake up to with outstretched arms to welcome its beautiful morning and fall asleep with a content smile on your face to welcome the night. I eagerly arose from my bed and made my way to my parents’ room. Today was the day that Dad was supposed to reveal the itinerary of our next extravagant summer vacation to the entire household. (He even kept his plans a secret from mom.) With this in mind, I happily skipped down the hallway to wake my parents up. I knew Dad wouldn’t exactly be happy about this, but I couldn’t help wanting to know where we were going to be traveling this summer. Our past trips had taken us places I hardly knew existed. Stonehenge in England, The Serengeti in Tanzania, The Torii Gate in Japan; You name it and we’ve probably already gone there.
I cracked open the door and burst inside, but what I saw inside, immediately flushed all of these happy thoughts from my mind. My heart raced and every breath became heavier as if I had just run a marathon in the dead of summer. I couldn’t stand this horrible feeling for long and, losing all control of my being, let out a shriek of horror. It must’ve been a fairly loud one, because a few seconds later, my brother, Anthony, charged through the door, nearly knocking me over in the process. Despite his hurried entrance, I continued to stand frozen. My eyes fixated on our parents. They were dead. Both had been shot between the eyes. The blank expressions of horror on their faces were just about the same as mine. I inched away towards the far corner as my brother quietly went to examine the ghastly scene. He looked over their bodies like a teacher watching his least trustworthy student during a test. As his eyes turned to meet mine, however, this gaze had been fogged over with tears.
You see, my brother isn’t the best at conveying his emotions. He’s really a kind and loving, but odd person; the kind that you have to be familiar with in order to laugh at, rather than be kind of disturbed by. Being my brother, he had made me laugh many times before, but from that moment when he looked up from the bed to me, he seemed like a shell of his former self. It was probably the saddest thing I’d ever seen. I knew at the time that I wanted my parents back and I know it sounds ridiculous, but seeing my brother like this was probably worse than being orphaned. Anthony had always been there for me even when he needed help himself and always helped me with some sort of quiet determination that I really can’t describe here. He felt like he was just doing his job as my brother and was happy to do it. To see him so distressed nearly killed me inside.
I didn’t know what to expect next. Time had seemed to slow to a crawl, but fortunately, my brother made the next move. Still crying, he slowly walked over to me and wrapped his arms around me. He was trying to comfort me in the best way he could think of, for he knew that he would have to take care of me from now on. Clutching onto him, I repeatedly whispered in between sobs,
“ Why?”
“I don’t know,” he replied calmly, “but right now we should call the cops. They’ll help us. Alright?”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
It wasn’t long before our parents had been taken to the morgue and their room had been designated a crime scene, complete with yellow caution tape. It got even more hectic when Uncle Rob showed up at our house. Our Dad and Uncle Rob had been the best of friends in high school when the former was a long haired Generation X kid who listened to hard rock music and the latter was a geeky computer wizard who tooled around with various devices in his garage. Both were social outcasts, so it really was a match made in heaven. They had such a bond that Dad decided right away, after Anthony and I each were born, that Uncle Rob would be our Godfather.
After arriving in his trusty old AMC Gremlin, Uncle Rob argued with the police for 15 minutes about whether or not we could leave, but it seemed like an hour. We finally had to be whisked downtown for a few quick questions. Of course, we didn’t know who had killed Mom and Dad or why, so as an old crusty police detective asked us questions in a small quiet room, we said nothing except for a few quiet, “I don’t know’s”. The only thing I knew about the murderer was that he must’ve really had a grudge on our parents. Both of them had had horrified expressions on their faces when we found them. Obviously, the killer had woken them up to toy with them and then shot them both in the head when he was through. For that, I don’t think I can ever forgive their killer.
We had been at Uncle Rob’s house for only a day when an unusual visitor turned up the next morning. Another of our Dad’s friends, our Uncle Peter appeared at the door with a contract indicating himself as our new legal guardian. My brother and I had no idea why he would want us. We had met him once before at a party that our parents had taken us to. We learned that he and Dad had been pretty good friends in high school and that they had tried to start up a band together, but recently they had hardly even talked. When they did, though, they didn’t sound too happy with each other. Despite this, it looked like Dad had changed his mind about letting Uncle Rob take care of us. Uncle Rob protested in every way he could as we went upstairs and packed our clothes again. Finally, in an attempt to settle the dilemma once and for all, Uncle Rob suggested that we take a drive down to the Child Protective Services office. Almost immediately, Uncle Peter changed his attitude.
“Fine then. I’ll be leaving,” he said without much ceremony before getting into his car.
Life continued on its slow, but steady path as we lived happily with Uncle Rob. He was probably even more fun than dad, but that was because he had never had kids before. Driving to spend lazy days at Coney Island and Rockaway Beach became an almost weekly routine. Walking down to Breezy Point Tip and riding the Cyclone became the highlights of this simple, but always fun routine. We didn’t care if the boardwalk looked cheap or if Floyd Bennet Field was practically a ghost town, my brother and I always looked forward to having fun around town. Other days we’d trek into Manhattan and explore every block we could. On those days, the Modern Art Museum, Rockefeller Center and Broadway became familiar friends. We continued going to the same school after summer was over (which we thoroughly enjoyed despite a scathing lack of a well-planned trip). Anthony tried his luck on several dates as the leaves turned orange, red and yellow. To make a long story short, he found that he didn’t have much fortune when it came to women. I always felt lonely when he was away. Anthony was more than my older brother; he was like a best friend to me. Sure, I had a few friends from school I could visit, but they were only kids I ran around with once in a while; they didn’t mean much to me. Eventually, we began to forget sometimes that we were even adopted orphans. Life seemed quiet and hopeful. However, after a six-month hiatus, fate came back to take another stab at my brother and I.
My brother and I had settled into our rooms for the night. I was wide awake, lying in bed daydreaming about two people who seemed so distant in memory and, yet, so close in heart, Mom and Dad. Just as I began to drift off to sleep, I heard a gentle tap on the window. Rain poured madly onto the streets outside, almost as if the house had been placed on a movie set. This innocent click from the window was something much more sinister than the rain. As I got up to close the shades, I perceived a masked figure standing out on the balcony. He barged inside and I let out another earth-shattering shriek. Once again, Anthony came to the rescue, but was gunned down by the intruder. I looked on in horror as my brother collapsed to the floor. Had the gunman come to finish us off like he had done to our parents? I covered my face and cowered in the corner as the gunman turned to me. He had a glint in his eye that didn’t seem natural. “Is he wearing glasses?” I asked myself as I felt a pinch in my neck. All around me, the room faded to black, the whites of the intruder’s eyes being the last detail to go.
The black void persisted around me for what seemed to be months, maybe years. I finally awoke in what seemed to be a massive warehouse or underground bunker. My brother and I had been dressed in hospital gowns and placed in transparent capsules that were elevated high above the ground. Needles encircled us on all sides. Escape wasn’t manageable. Upon closer inspection, the needles were attached to numerous transparent pipes that led to large tanks storing a silvery liquid. Had we been injected with Mercury? This was obviously some sort of disgusting experiment in murder. I began to sweat at the thought of having only minutes to live. Looking over at my brother, I noticed he was still asleep. Yelling to him did no good; my voice was as trapped as I was. Suddenly, I heard a droning laugh that began low and ascended into an unbearable, piercing cackle. I looked down to find the source of the noise sitting in a chair in front of a large computer console. His face was shrouded from view by the darkness of the room. The only light came from his computer monitor.
“I don’t suppose you’d like to know where you are,”
the figure cracked, still giggling in between words. I had nothing dignified I could find to say to this cruel shadow. His power to silence one’s voice and halt their thoughts simply overtook me. All I could reply with was a meager,
“W-w-where?” ,
that slowly crawled out and was laying on its back wheezing if not already dead.
“Unfortunately, I cannot tell you that,” replied the figure, “As for what has happened to you in this facility, that is up to you to discover.”
“W-w-wait! Are you the one who killed Mom and Dad?”
I felt like an idiot for asking this, but a vexing feeling inside forced me to ask. The mysterious villain began to cry with laughter again before calming down to say,
“You father was quite the slippery bastard, you know? He betrayed quite a lot of people just to elope with Mommy and have you two kids.”
I couldn’t utter anything more. My first phrase was most likely dead and what this shadow had told me made my thoughts conflict in a way that I was capable of imagining. I began to cry a little bit and soon I was practically bawling my eyes out. Irritated by this sudden development, the figure pressed a button and gas engulfed the interior of my capsule. Once again I fell asleep, watching our captor’s screen fade away last as if it were the portal to my dreams.

This intrigues me, plot wise, but something about the writing just turns me off... I dunno what. It's written well, but... I dunno.

Still, if you post more, I'll read it.