Antichrist (Frerard)

1: The Dead Are Always Better Company Than The Living

Frank paid little attention to the menial chatter of his dully dressed grandfather, his eyes set upon the world that lay outside of the old, vintage style car that Frank's grandfather would just about kill the nineteen year old for not being able to name off the top of his head.

Frank couldn't shake the feeling of dread and the tingling sensation that kept him forever on edge as he struggled to separate the thousands of shades of grey that surrounded him. He felt almost as if he'd stepped into an old fashioned black and white silent film as they'd driven from the airport and further into the middle of nowhere, and really, it wasn't just Frank's grandfather's car.

After his parents died, it had almost been as if his whole head had been stained red from the sight of their blood and the living room floor and they way everything smelt of decay and utter despair and as if the colours of the house had been stripped and painted red to hide the damage. This town didn't feel better at all; this town just made the memories stand out and echo around his head because nothing was there to fill it with.

Either that or Frank needed a cigarette.

He doubted that his grandfather would let him smoke and even less in the prized possession that was his car. Frank wondered who was older - his grandfather or the car? It kept him amused for a while, that was until they hit the fog.

The smothered the car, almost wrapping itself around the vehicle like a serpent and Frank glanced behind them in concern, only to have his vision blocked by a thick grey layer of fog. He looked forward to his grandfather who seemed to show no reaction, almost as if he hadn't even seen the fog, driving on through it like nothing ever happened, with his headlights only illuminating the first five feet in front of them.

"The fog..." Frank let the words slip his lips - more like a gasp than a properly annunciate sentence. This was the first time he'd spoken since the airport, and this was the first time his grandfather hadn't, leaving Frank to watch as the fog slowly thinned out around them before his grandfather finally replied.

"What about it?" He asked - his teeth gritted, almost as if he was offended that Frank had even dared to ask.

"I... I... uhh..." Frank let out a series of incomprehensible mumbles as he stumbled to string a sufficiently articulated sentence together - his grandfather intimidated him, to say the least.

"Spit it out, boy. Can't you see I'm trying to concentrate on the road here? It's not as if we want you dead as well." And Frank really had to sink into silence then, because otherwise he was certain his grandfather would throw him out of the car this very moment and kill him himself.

"Good." Frank's grandfather let out a content stay as he noticed the mutual decision for silence, and that was how they remained until they reached their destination - Frank in silent hatred and Frank's grandfather silent yet on edge, because he could never really be calm here, especially when Frank did know what was out here.

-

Frank's grandmother was a quiet yet strict woman - she was nice enough yet she had a very strong grasp upon the matters of discipline and it was no lie that this demeanour she had inherited from the questionable actions of her husband. But it was fact that Mr and Mrs Iero Sr. were happily married and also highly respected amongst the village.

"Frank, so nice to see you." Frank's grandmother greeted him rather robotically under her husband's watch, ushering her grandson into the household, which Frank couldn't help but be in awe of.

Their house was by no means a mansion but it was most definitely on the large side, and decorated intricately with just about every shade of grey, matching the outside world completely, and much like the rest of the village, the house seemed to be absolutely devoid of modern technology, lit only in an almost purposefully eerie manner with candles that had been obviously heavily used by the wax melting into the dishes they lay in.