Chapter 28: Last Stand

125 9 0
                                    

The scent of smoke was all that George could comprehend at first.

A stinging pain from his head made him groan, and an intensive heat overcame his body, making him roll up on his side in confusion.

"That's right! Get up you queer!"

That voice made George's mind clear up instantly and he opened his eyes.

Harold was standing above him, glaring down at him with a look that would have sent child's down his spine if it weren't for...

"W-wh..."

George gasped.

The room was on fire.

"About time you notice. Oh, and don't worry about that little drummer of yours."

Harold chuckled.

"It won't be as painful for him as it will be for you."

George's eyes widened and he slowly stood up.

"W-what did you do!?"

"I just put him back in the basement and started a fire down there. The smoke should take care o-"

A fist came crashing into his face, and he stumbled back.

"Oh, so you still haven't learned! Well, if that's how you're going to start it!"

Harold threw George onto the stairs, knocking the guitarist senseless.

"Then I'll finish it!"

George began to run up the steps, not needing to look back to see what Harold was doing.

A bullet racing past him proved his suspicions.

Quickly, raced up the steps, Harold chasing him. 

"YOU GET BACK HERE!" 

The fire did not let up as George made his way upstairs, and once he got to the second floor, he looked around.

There was little he could do to evade Harold up here, and he only had a couple second, for he was approaching fast.

Quickly, George raced into the master bedroom, avoiding getting close to the fire that spread on the walls and bed, choosing to grab a small lamp from the nightstand and hide behind the empty bed.

Harold reached the top of the stairs.

"I know you're up here George!" He yelled, "You can't hide from me forever!"

George's gaze landed over to the large windows on the wall, which looked so old that they looked like they would break at any moment.

Should he?

Another gunshot got his attention.

Harold had moved into the room.

"Just come out and this will all be over!"

The smoke made it hard to see now, but George could still see Harold's back as he peaked over the bed.

Moving as quietly as he could, he slowly made his way towards him, tightly holding the small lamp.

Harold could not see him, for he was now facing outside the room.

"If you're no-"

George smashed the lamp down on his head, and Harold screamed in pain.

"WHAT THE HELL!?"

George ignored Harold's scream as he tackled him, pointing the gun away from him.

The pair struggled, moving across the room.

"YOU DON'T STAND A CHANCE!"

George glared angrily at Harold as they moved towards the Windows.

"Oh, we'll see about that!"

Taking in a deep breath, George's grip on Harold tightened as he threw the both of them towards the window.

The weak glass couldn't handle the force, and it shattered upon impact, George and Harold falling out of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ringo struggled against his chains, coughing and trying to grab onto anything with his free hands.

The basement was filling with smoke fast, and it was getting harder to breath.

The wooden pillar that Harold had connected the chains too was weak, or at least that's what Ringo hoped.

Either he get out now, or he wouldn't see his friends again.

He coughed as he once again lunged forward, and his eyes widened as he heard wood splintering.

Ringo looked back, barely being able to see that the pillar was braking in two.

Overcome with determination, he once again pulled forward, trying his best to ignore the fire in the far corner.

He fell forward as the pillar finally broke.

Quickly, he stood up and ran towards the stairs, not even bothering to try to get the chain  off of him.

Be burst onto the first floor and ran through the burning living room, not seeing George or Harold anywhere.

Once he got outside, he stood still for a moment, trying to catch his breath.

However, the sound of a struggle, coming from the side of the house, made him go quiet.

"Stop struggling!"

"Not until my last breath!"

The Silenced DrummerWhere stories live. Discover now