In the future a young boy watches his parents die infront of him. His ex-gang uncle takes him in and teaches him his trade. A character driven story in a fantastic new future!
Bang! The side door exploded into the house. A young boy sitting on the sofa turned towards commotion. His long dark hair disrupted his sight momentarily. The boy had a sleek angular profile that was uncommon for his age. His dark brown eyes focused on the intruder.
A large man covered in black material stepped through the door loudly inquiring. “Where is he?” The man made a motion and four more dressed in the same garb busted through the open doorway. Each wore a menacing pure black visor that covered the entirety of their head.
The boy looked up, so confused, he had no idea what was happening. All he could think about was why the elite EUC police force had just busted into his house. The first man through made more motions with his hand, the rest of the men began to break off into different corners of the house. The officer shook his head and said. “I’ll ask one more time. Where is your father boy?”
Terrified, tears began to well up in his large brown eyes. “I, I don’t know. He hasn’t, uh he didn’t come home today. Yet. I don’t think.” Something overcame him, like he believed he was strong enough to fight the well-trained lawman. “I Don’t Know, Get Out Of My House!”
Somewhere from within the house one of the other officers yelled. “ We’ve got him sir. Bringing him out now.
The kid looked down the hallway. Two officers had his father arm in arm. They were too large to make it through the hallway without knocking down the family portraits. As they made their way closer the boy could see his father. The man had short dark brown hair just like his son. However his angular features were masked by an abundance of blood dripping down his face and staining the pearly white carpet beneath him.
The boy looked at his dad in the eyes and yelled, “Father”.
“Down boy” The head officer told the boy as he tried to rise. A large armored hand grabbed the boy and held him in place.
The father began to cough up blood but managed to say “Antone, I love you. Don’t forget that.”
One of the two guards holding the dad kneed him in the chest. The boy instantly began his struggle anew. “Look at me.” The man gripped the boy tighter and turned him and staring him in the eye. All the boy saw was his own reflection, his tear ridden face, and how small he was. Then he looked slightly down at the name tag. A white strip of tape sized cloth had the black letters of Boseler woven in.
“Let me go!” The boy tried another attempt at getting free. Again the large man held him in place.
“Throw the father into holding truck one. I’m going to take the boy back in truck two. The other team should have the mother. Stangly, burn this house to the ground.”