But Now We're Stressed Out

You Died; would you like to start again?

Sorry in advance

ALSO THIS IS CHAPTER 50 OF THIS BOOK

Like damn, fifty chapters of this shit

TRIGGER WARNINGS : violence, blood, gore, DEATH, guns, talks about PTSD and epilepsy, alludes to self harm (cutting)

Damien POV
"Don't go in there,"  I hissed at Quinn. 

"It's not safe,"  Virgil whispered, shaking slightly. 

Quinn looked back at us with tears streaming down his face.  But he turned and bolted into his house.

"Don't!"  Screamed Virgil, but it was too late.  I grabbed Virgil's arm to hold him back from running in after Quinn.

I stared at the small, badly kept house.  Quinn was in there with his dad.  His dad with a gun that just killed Quinn's mom. 

"He's gonna...He's gonna die,"  Virgil chocked out, obviously about to panicked.

"Where the fuck is everyone?"  I asked, looking around but only Virgil and I were present. 

"They're probably dead,"  Virgil cried, falling to his knees. 

"We'll be fine,"  I told him right as three quick gunshots sounded from the house. 

Both Virgil and I flinched heavily.  A scream came from the house.  It sounded like Quinn. 

"He's gonna die, he's gonna die,"  Virgil whispered over and over.  I could only hear the gunshots and Virgil's soft chanting.

I was frozen in horror.  But then Quinn came running out of the house bullets flying out of the house after him.

A man I didn't know followed him.  I couldn't see much of his face, it seemed to be glitching.  Virgil got up to run to Quinn but he was too late.

Quinn turned to look right at his dad as he raised the gun.  With an ear splitting bang, the gun fired.  Quinn screamed but it was cut off quickly. 

I turned just in time to see the bullet tear right through Quinn's head. 

Blood and guts flew out the back of his head along with the bullet.  Quinn fell to the ground with a dull thud and didn't move.

Not that anyone could have survived a bullet to the head.  I started crying.  Quinn's face was just a mess of ripped muscles and busted bone covered in blood. 

"Come here boy,"  The man with the gun growled.  Now pointing the gun at Virgil.

Virgil turned to run but ran right into his dad.   Sadness turned to rage.  I do not like this man that hurt and destroyed Virgil. 

Virgil struggled.  I was about to run to Virgil but was cut off but the sound of another bullet.  But it wasn't from the man at the porch with the shotgun.

Instead, Virgil's Dad has shoved a handgun against Virgil's chin.  The bullet went straight through but didn't destroy his face.

Just a clean shot up through his chin.  There was a look of pure shock and horror on Virgil's face.  Then he slumped, dead, to the ground. 

I turned to run, adrenaline and fear filling me.  But there was my dad.  Standing right there.

"What?!"  I screamed, jolting backwards.  "How?!"

"Daddy's home Damien,"  He purred, raising the same knife he had cut up my face with.  "And this time you won't survive."

I screamed as Dad slashed the knife right across my neck.  Hot blood poured from the wound.  Pain shot through me.