Silent Bell Ringers

Chapter One

Hello again...
I have finally started the second book that continues A Bell of Juxtaposition. It has taken me a long time to find the motivation again but someone gave me some and I really want to thank them for it; I forgot how much I love writing!
I will try to update this as much as possible but it's going to take a lot because I'm writing this as I go.
The idea isn't new though, it has been bubbling under the surface for months and months! So I think it's time we find out what happens...

~*~*~*~*~

Gerard, Mikey, Frank and Ray kneel on the twig carpeted floorbefore a wall of black and a hungry snarl.

'Did you really think you could escape?' the man with the snarl snaps at them. None of the four answer due to a mixture of fear and not having the compassion. It has come to the point where most believe it is time to give into this inevitable fate.
'No answer, wise. However, we brought you some old friends...' Gerard looks up and sees that the snarl has become desperate to be fed and it seems it will be as four of his army drag forward two battered and bloodied bodies. They all look up now as inhuman groans escape the bodies.
At first, the group look on in confusion but then the pieces start to slowly fall together and realisation ignites in their eyes: the mop of blonde hair and the shaggy beard...these so-called old friends are in fact Matt and Bob.
The first thought that runs through Gerard's mind is they got what they deserved but then a shotgun is drawn and lightly placed upon Bob's temple. The trigger is pulled without a second thought and Bob falls limp onto the floor with a flop.
Each of the four flinch at the sound the body made because they imagine that was the same sound her body made as it hit the floor.
Matt's lips are now trembling in fear because he knows the same fate awaits him. He starts to feebly beg for his worthless life, 'Ple-ple-please...plea-please...n-n-no, you ca-can't do th-this...'
The leader of this army responds, 'Oh well, that's okay because my men aren't going to be the ones to pull the trigger on you,' he turns to face the most innocent; Mikey, 'this one will.'
Mikey's eyes grow wide with shock and then fear. He can't seem to grasp on to his words that frantically swarm in his panicking mind.
The leader speaks again, 'You will shoot him or we will kill Gerard, Ray and Frank. You'll be made to live with their blood on your hands so make your choice Mikey.'
A wave of horror washes through the group. Mikey stands slowly and defeated. He shuffles closer to Matt and the shotgun is handed to him. In Mikey's weak hand, the gun still holds the warmth of its last kill; it's alive.
'Now then Mikey, you can work it out from here,' the leader says to Mikey who has a glint in his eyes that tells them that he is going to enjoy this.
Mikey turns to face Matt, straightens his back and hesitantly lifts the gun to Matt's temple. Matt's eyes bore into his and the eyes of his brothers burn in his back. Mikey understands why the general of this blood thirsty army has chosen him to shoot Matt. It's because he is the easiest to break. This has now become a war against their minds and Mikey is their weak spot.
As his index finger begins to close around the trigger he closes his eyes too; he can't bear to stare into Matt's eyes any longer.
Now I pull the trigger Mikey reminds himself but can he become a murderer? I must to save my family.
He pulls the trigger and he feels the recoil surge through to his shoulder and knows the bullet has made contact as the blood scatters upon his face. He keeps his eyes shut for another moment because he knows that when he opens them again, he'll see the world as a murderer. The hit upon his mind has already nearly brought him to this breaking point.
The wall of black surge forward now, snatching the gun from Mikey's weaker grip and drag all of them to their feet.
'Right. Time to move out, get them in the van,' the general barks at his men. They are all hauled off in the direction the wave of black came from. The four men just allow this without a fight left in their bones and let their eyes fall upon the bodies left behind. However, Gerard's eyes don't linger on these worthless deaths as his eyes pull themselves to the blackened ash pile that was once a body too. Tears begin to well up again and he doesn't care if they over flow; he doesn't care who sees. I will always remember you.

~*~*~*~*~

The men that have now all become prisoners as they are ruthlessly dumped into the van and tied up to the benches. I guess some would say this is a taste of their own medicine but it also brings them closer to her as these were the same feelings of containment and pure fear pulsing through their bloodstreams.
The general sits with them but up on the bench they have bolted to the van; this is an indicator that this van was built for this very purpose. Sitting on a higher level allows the feeling of power to flow through his bloodstream.
The doors of the van are slammed shut and this is the signal for the driver to jerk the van into action at a fast, frantic pace that offsets the impression of urgency.
With the prospect of a most likely long journey, the men have time to their racing thoughts of what is in store for them. But to distract himself, Frank takes time to observe the general and try to begin to work out his motives. He sits stiffly on the metal bench, always to attention, ready for anything. His face is stern; hard eyes that carry a spark of cruelty, crooked nose, tightly drawn lips, bags under his eyes, lines embossed on his wide forehead, a slowly retreating hairline and hair the colour of a wolf's coat; mottled grey, white and black.
His hands clutch on to a riffle that now sits in his lap with such strength that his knuckles have turned white and allow the scars that scatter them to protrude.
As Frank's eyes skim over the gun, the general's eyes snap to meet his; there is a warning glinting in them and Frank backs away.
'Oh the boss is going to be pleased!' he says with his version of joy.
The four look up but don't make eye contact as this is known to enrage beasts, especially wolves.