The sound of rain, like a million crystal beads, drummed against the roof.  Even in the basement, the sound was everywhere.

In the basement, a teenage boy had his face pressed against a window.  His wild eyes searching the dark night.

“Adam!  Get away from that window!”

“Aww, come on Nana… I’m just looking.”

The wild-eyed boy gave his mother his most disarming smile.  The effect was lost however.

“Nope, sorry sweetie.  Just come over here and finish your homework.”

Adam took a step toward the couch.  “Ugh… when am I even going to need to know about the dating habits of Henry VI?”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Haha, probably never,” said the woman, pointing to a heavy textbook.

“Fine.”

The howling wind and heavy rains continued to pelt the house as the gray-haired woman and the wild-eyed teen sat in the flickering light of the basement.

“Divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived… sheesh!”

Without warning, the howling wind started yelling.  Pictures rattled on the walls.  Branches broke, and the power went out.

“Alright Adam, let’s go to the stairs.”  The grandmother cast nervous glances out the window.  Together, using their cell phones for light, they scurried into the closet and hunkered down.

And then there was the sound of screaming.  Grandmother and grandson held each other tightly in the basement closet as the tornado passed over their house.

And then there was nothing.