Nothing Personal.

"Jack, are you alright?" Jack's mother asked as Jack seemed to stare off into space. Jack nodded quickly and began to eat his dinner. "The school called." Jack's mother began. "You haven't showed up any." Jack closed his eyes, and chewed his food slowly.

"My best friend is missing." Jack said blankly. Jack put another spoon full of soup into his mouth. He was beginning to worry. It has been 12 days since Alex was last seen. And yet, Jack still had no lead on where he could possibly be.

"May I be excused?" Jack asked his mother. She nodded and Jack put his dishes quickly away, and ran upstairs to his bedroom. He opened his top dresser drawer and pulled the scrap book that he found in Alex's room out.

He sat on the floor and opened it. The little girl stared at Jack through a black and white picture. She was tiny, and looked like she may of had either brown or black hair. She had a huge grin on her face. Jack scanned the articles.

Her name was Emily. She was 2 to 3 years old. Cause of death: Hit and Run. Jack let out a frustrated sigh. Vehicle unknown.

Survivors includes: Mother, Stacy. Father, Crowley, and grandparents, Gertrude, and Paul. Jack shut the crap book and walked over to his desk and opened his laptop. He went to google and typed. Mostly about the little girls hit in run. The only article that popped up was Emily's. Which Jack wasn't complaining, it was exactly what Jack was looking for.

Stacy and Crowley Whitmore. Jack smiled to himself and typed their names into a search engine, popping up their address, Jack printed it off.


Jack walked up the Whitmore driveway slowly, a picture of Alex in hand. He finally made it to the front door. He rang the doorbell. Seconds later a short man answered.

"May I help you?" He questioned. His British accent thick.

"Um, yes." I hesitated. "I was just curious if you have seen my friend Alex Gaskarth?" Jack held up the picture of Alex. The man grabbed it slowly, he looked at the picture, then back at Jack. His green eyes bright. He shook his head, causing Jack to feel slightly disappointed.

"Would you mind having a cup of tea?" The man asked.

"Oh No, I wouldn't want to-"

"Nonsense!" The man boomed. "Come on in." Jack hesitated, but finally walked inside the mansion like house. "Sit." The man motioned to the leather couch. Jack did as told and sat.

"Nice place." Jack beamed. The man nodded.

"What is your name exactly?" He asked.

"Um, Jack." Jack said awkwardly.

"Nice to meat you Jack, I'm Crowley." Jack nodded. Crowley disappeared into the kitchen. Jack sat on the leather couch and noticed something strange. He's never seen anything like it. At the end of the hall stood a tall steal door. Bolted from top to bottom. Anybody could go in. But what was he trying to keep from coming out? Jack quickly stood up, and quietly walked to the door. He undid every lock and opened the creaky door.

He knew it was wrong, but the curiosity got the better of him. Behind the door was a flight of stairs. Jack looked behind him, making sure the coast was clear. It was. He shut the steal door and headed to the bottom of the steps. And there, was a set of another steel doors. He unlocked them and opened them.

It was dark, and cold. Almost like a freezer. He felt the wall, searching for a light switch. Finally finding one he flipped it on. The lights flicked on. Jack scanned the room. Nothing. Just an empty basement.

Jack quickly ran back up the steps, locking the doors behind him. He sat back down on the couch like nothing had happened.

Crowley came into the living room from the kitchen. Setting the tray of tea down. "Hope you like your tea unsweet.

Notes

Okay, sorry this is kinda crappy. But I literally pulled an all nighter due to nerves. So Oops. :/ I'm kinda tired, but I can't sleep now. But I really am sorry that this chapter is really the shittiest of all shitty.