6A/N: After getting a bit of negative feedback for my story Connections, I decided to go back and look it over, and boy did it have a lot of problems! I decided to completely rewrite it. Hopefully it is better than the original, and please review and tell me how you like it. Constructive criticism is very much welcomed!
Prologue
Colm:
Crash!
I jerked up in my bed as though my body had just been struck by lightning. Despite the fact that I only aroused from my sleep moments ago, I felt as alert as if I had been awake for hours. My heart beat like a hammer working hard to push a nail into a wall as I heard footsteps coming toward my bedroom.
I leaped out of my bed, looking for a weapon of some type to defend myself with. It couldn't be my daughter Vanessa walking around the house late at night. She was sleeping over a friend's house.
I began to hastily shift through the drawers of the night stand next to my bed. A pencil, a pen, a few sheets of paper, and scissors were all that lay in there. The scissors were the sharpest item. They'd have to do.
With the scissors in hand, I crept toward the door to my bedroom, but before I could even let my foot pass through the threshold, my gaze caught two men standing in the corridor, but they didn't look like your typical criminals in any way. In fact, they seemed more like those annoying sales men that enjoy knocking on your door at supper time, minus the suitcases. One was dressed in a blue suit and aiming a pistol at my face while the other one, dressed in a black suit, grasped a vial of strange, clear liquid. They even had their hair slicked back with gel. The only things they're missing are the champagne glasses, I thought to myself.
But I tried to ignore the strange outfits as I began threatening them with the pair of scissors I had, looking like an absolute fool. I pushed them out in front of me and snapped them together a few times. I was hardly threatening, though. I just looked like someone cutting their hedges. The one in the black suit found it a bit humorous.
"Good try, you scum. Good try," he said with a chuckle as the two advanced toward me. With legs as shaky as a tree in a hurricane, I backed up until I was completely pressed against the wall.
A look of terror flashed across my eyes as the man with the pistol walked up even closer to me. "Don't move."
I ignored his warning, though. I tried to run past him and get outside long enough to give a desperate cry for help, but my plan was thwarted. Before I could even pass him, he pulled the trigger on the pistol three times. The first two bullets missed me by just inches, but I wasn't as lucky with the third one. It sunk into my arm, and I collapsed on the floor in agony.
For a moment, I contemplated continuing to run, but that was before I glanced down at the area where the bullet hit. Blood was gushing out, staining the white carpet on the floor. I just screamed from where I was in a desperate attempt for someone to hear my plea. "HELP!" echoed through the house repeatedly, but didn't reach anyone outside.
"Save your breath," the man with the vial said as he quickly approached me. He pinned me to the ground and uncapped the vial. In one last desperate attempt, I tried biting him, but before I could get at his hand, he had already poured the liquid down my throat.
In just seconds, everything turned as black as night.