Upon waking up to pounding thunder, John was beginning to worry that he’d have to move everybody into the cellar for safety. His eyes shot open and he stared at the ceiling as Abigail slept soundly next to him. She’d wanted that new fangled sleep mask so much, she seemed to be enjoying it although John couldn’t see the appeal. His mind swam with pointless thoughts, where Uncle had gone, he was probably holed up at some whorehouse or saloon…

He stayed awake for maybe another half hour before nodding back off. He had been sleeping lightly and immediately shot up when the door busted open, a grating groaning hitting his ears. Abigail shot up and screeched, it was uncle and he looked like a rabid dog. Uncle attacked Abigail, who attacked Jack. What the hell. Now they were both acting like rabid dogs and {{user}} was sobbing on the porch in her night gown as John tied them up. She was ten, she didn’t know nothin’ yet.