Chapter Text
The house was empty and quiet as always. Someone was always out. But this time it wasn’t quiet for that reason. They could sense that something wasn’t right. They could feel that something bad was bound to happen tonight. Dark hair and ginger hair, two bright and intuitive minds.
They sat on the dusty couch, staring at the TV even though nothing interesting was on. There were sirens and loud cars outside, nothing unusual. They could only hope that those sirens weren’t on the way to their house.
A knock sounded at the door, and one of them almost got up, but he was pulled down.
“Don’t.”
The knock sounded again, pulling the attention of both men to the door. Without waiting a second, there was a loud bang, and suddenly, there was a hole in the door. Eyes went wide in shock, and surprisingly, no one moved. A gloved hand stuck through the new hole in the door and turned the knob, opening the door with ease. Too much ease. The door opened to reveal two completely covered figures, masked and mysterious. Whatever they wanted, this house probably couldn’t give it to them. Everything that had happened in the past two weeks shot through the minds of the victims at the speed of light, terrifying them of what would come next. The thugs barreled through the house, completely ignoring the shocked bodies on the couch, but not for long. Once they had an idea of the layout of the house, they went back to the living room. The taller one reached into his pocket and pulled out a pistol.
“Where are the valuables?” he demanded, pointing the gun at the ginger. He put his hands up and shrugged.
“I- I don’t know,” he lied. “It isn’t… my house.”
“Don’t lie to me, bastard. Just tell me where it is, and you’ll stay alive.”
This kind of thing was common in the area. People’s lives were threatened every single day, but as soon as it was your turn, your mind went blank. All of the stories in the media about the people who had lost their lives to this exact thing would go racing through your memory, and suddenly, you would have no idea what you were doing. Defenceless. And it didn’t seem worth saving yourself. It was just a living nightmare.
The ginger didn’t speak. He refused. The other man wanted to reach across the room for the phone and call the cops, but the chances of him actually doing it were slim. He didn’t.
“Fine, don’t speak, I’ll ask your friend,” said the thug. With a click, the pistol shot, and a bullet flew through the air faster than either of them had seen before, making them cover their ears. The bullet landed right in the chest of the ginger. A searing pain shot through him, and he screamed. Or he tried to, but hardly anything came out. A bolt of adrenaline shot through the other man, and he moved.
“Axl!” he screamed. He looked at the limp body on the ground, blood flowing out of his chest and pooling onto the floor. Fury flooded through him, and he stood up straight, quicker than he expected to. The thug tried to shoot again, but the man was quicker. He grabbed the pistol in the guy’s hand and turned it so it was pointed at the thug himself. The other criminal showed up just then, as a second bullet was shot, this time into the guy who had killed the man’s best friend. The guy let out a gasp, the other criminal fled, and there was another limp body on the ground.
The man took the pistol then, and he set his finger on the trigger. He fell on his knees next to his dead friend. His hands shook, and he looked at the gun, terrified.
“I’m Izzy Stradlin, and I’m dying for Axl Rose,” he said. He held the gun to his head and pulled the trigger. The blood was there almost immediately. It covered his hand as it fell to the ground, then spilled onto the floor.
A third body on the ground.
Dead.