Halloween special :))

"Hamilton, you're mad."

Jefferson glared at Hamilton across the desk, Washington groaning and pinching the bridge of his nose.
"The Purge is tonight Hamilton, campaigning against it was a new kind of stupid, let alone staying home during it." Jefferson scoffed, almost amused at Alex's stupidity.
"Well my campaign will have been for nothing if I just go hideaway with the rest of you, I'm trying to reach out to the people, I've never experienced the purge and I don't believe people will trust in what I say unless I have a clear understanding o-"
"You won't be able to say anything because you'll be dead." Jefferson deadpanned.

"Thank you secretary Jefferson, I'd like to have a word with secretary Hamilton, alone." Washington murmured, Jefferson sighing in defeat and shooting out of his seat, dragging Madison with him as he vacated the room.

"Alexander." Washington sighed. "I know you think this is your best option, but I've lived with the purge far longer than you, and I hate to be morbid but you will not make it through the night." He frowned, shooting Alex a pleading gaze. "There are psychos out there, and more so they will target you now that you're trying to take away their one night to let loose." He lectured, his voice firm.
"I appreciate your concern, but my decision has been made." Alex murmured, standing from his seat slowly.

"Well I wish you luck, and hope to see you back in office tomorrow," Washington spoke gently, raising his hand and shaking Alexander's firmly.
"Thank you sir, and a good night to you too." He forced a smile before vacating the room, moving out through the large building and into the carpark.

Alex found his car and slipped in, turning the radio off as the car started, since every sound buzzing out of the machine concerned a purge warning or a home security advertisement. As he drove down the street he watched people rushing by hurriedly, boarding up windows and doors, having metal plates installed, weaponry being purchased, a stall of 'purge masks' almost sold out. How disgusting.

He reached his small house in no time, parking his car outside, as he didn't have a garage, and clearing it of any personal belongings. It was likely the car could be stolen or vandalised tonight. He slipped inside his small, cramped home sweet home, throwing the keys on the kitchen bench and making an immediate start for the living room.

There he got to work with the wooden planks he had picked up off verge-side collection at the start of the year, drilling them to the window frames and letting his house be enveloped by darkness. He didn't have the money to blow on fancy high tech home protection, but by the time he was finished with his hard labour, what he did have was instant lasagna and half a bottle of champagne.

Alex flicked on the tv and checked the time on his phone, 6:12pm, March 21st. He threw the lasagna into the microwave and popped his bottle open, pouring himself a glass.
"A toast to America's last purge," he announced under his breath with a shaky smile, taking a sip. He had only come to America last year, in April, where he saw the effect the purge had, the families still suffering from their losses and America suffering the damage it had also attained. He didn't understand it, he honestly couldn't comprehend such a night existed, but he vowed to end it. Nobody deserved to have their loved ones ripped away and their homes destroyed, he knew enough about that.

Alexander ate his lasagna in peace in front of the television, reluctantly watching the news as nothing else was screening on any channel. Everything was a constant reminder that it was purge night, and that he might die, but of all America's citizens, he was fairly sure he was safe. Sure, he campaigned against the purge which would anger many, but nobody knew where he lived, right?

Suddenly Alex jumped a little as he heard a siren screeching outside, his tv flickered and the screen went blue, Emergency Broadcast System lighting up the top of his screen. He squinted at the screen with a frown before a robotic feminine voice began to speak.

This is not a test
This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge sanctioned by the U.S. Government.

Alex's eyes widened and he slowly put his glass down, taking his plate up to the sink.

Weapons of Class 4 and lower have been authorised for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.

He moved to the kitchen drawer and grabbed the two biggest knives he owned, for precautions, you know? He didn't own a gun, had never fired one, should probably have invested in one, but this would do.

Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.

Washington would be safe tonight, but Alexander knew that was just above his pay-grade.

Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.

Alex gulped and turned off all the lights in his house, double checking every door was barricaded and every window boarded up.

Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7am, when the purge concludes.
Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn.
May God be with you all.

Alex drew in a deep breath and took his phone out, moving back to the couch and slowly sinking back in the darkness. He retrieved one of his knives and held it in his hand while his other scanned through social media, colleagues sending prayers to each other worrying him even more. This was very, very real, and it was only when he heard the first siren did he feel a horrible gut wrenching sickness, like he should've done so much more.
6 sirens wailed outside into the cool night, before silence fell over New York.

And then a feminine scream pierced the air. And Alex knew he fucked up.

"SOMEBODY? I WAS LOCKED OUT- oh my god PLEASE!" The woman called out pleadingly, sprinting down the street. Alex felt pity bubble in his stomach as he listened, creeping to the window to peek between the wooden boards, he watched the woman run, seemingly unarmed in grubby jeans and a tattered button up shirt. "SOMEBODY!"

Alex groaned and jogged to the door. God he hated himself.
"Psst! Lady!" He hissed, letting his door creak open a little. The woman gasped and ran towards Alex, her eyes darting around fearfully as she dove past Alex and into the house. Alex closed the door and hastily returned the chair he had barricaded it with.

"Oh dear lord thank you, thank you," she panted, leaning against the kitchen bench and brushing her hair back.
"Don't thank me, you ju-"
"Oh no, I should thank you," the woman shook her head with a kind smile, massaging her lower back tiredly. "You volunteered to be my first victim of the night, Mr Hamilton," she beamed, ripping a gun out of her waistband and shooting straight at Alex.

"SHIT WOMAN!" Alex cursed, diving out of the way and bolting out of the kitchen and into the hallway, dodging two more bullets. She had a shit aim.
"Oh doll come back!" The woman cackled, firing her gun into the wall Alex had disappeared behind. "This won't take long!"

Alex felt panic rise like bile in his throat and he turned, running for the laundry and shoving the barricade out of the way of his back door. He threw the door open and burst outside, the cool night air instantly hitting him.

Without a second thought he stumbled to his feet and sprinted around the side of his house, not taking long as the block was so small.
"MR HAMILTON COME BACK!" The woman called out innocently as she too threw the door open, sauntering out behind Alex.
Alex jumped up onto his garbage bins and threw himself over the side fence into his neighbour's yard, landing heavily with a wince but continuing to run around their house too.

He didn't dare look back, shakily climbing over their side gate and bolting out onto the street.
Stupid stupid stupid!
"Mr Haaaamilton!" The woman sang sweetly, firing her gun into the air aimlessly. What was she even doing, purging alone with one shitty pistol out on the streets?

Alex hastily wiped his forearm across his forehead, sweat dripping down his face as he legged it around a corner, only coming face to face with a white van driving straight towards him, an innocent victim chained to the hood soaked in blood and screaming for mercy. Alex stumbled out of the way and watched the van speed past in horror, the woman begging him for help. He felt tears rise to his eyes as he heard more screams echo a few houses away, smoke begining to rise down the block too. What the fuck was this.

BEEEEP
Alex only had a second to glance up, seeing the van u-turn and speed back towards him. He dove out of the way with a gasp, tripping onto the road with a shout of pain. He tried to jump to his feet but the psycho woman was back. She jumped onto him, straddling him and giggling maliciously, raising the gun to his head.
"Say goodbye to your bullshit campaign Mr Hamilton," she beamed. Alex squeezed his eyes shut, awaiting the blow that would shatter his skull. This was it. It all happened so fast. Washington was right.

BANG BANG!
"GAAH-hAH ffUCK!" Alex yelled, clutching his arm where the bullet had shot straight through his flesh. He groaned, throwing his head back before squinting up, expecting to see the woman, but her eyes were vacant, blood spilling from a gun wound in her forehead.

She slowly slipped down, collapsing lifelessly on the road beside Alex. He gasped and tried to move away but two strong arms grabbed his shirt, ripping him up. He hissed in pain, earning a chuckle from the masked man holding him hostage. A home-made mask with the union jack painted sloppily right across the middle.
"Mr fucking Hamilton, what are you doing out on Purge night? Imagine how many people would pay good money to have the honour of killing you?" A low and heavy British accent laughed bitterly. Alex's eyes widened and he shook his head suddenly.

"No- n-no please-" he begged, tears welling in his eyes.
"We're gonna be rich Sammy!" The man laughed, dragging Alex back to the van, thrashing weakly and crying out in pain and mercy.
"PLEASE! LET ME GO! You w-want money? I'll give you fucking money don't kill m-"
BAM.

Alex's head was slammed against the hood of the car, and he immediately was out like a light, unconscious.

-

It was a silvery, metallic taste in his mouth, and took him a while to register that it was his own blood.
Alex's eyes shot open, the heavy roar of a car engine right below his head, the wind whipping wildly at his hair.
His breathing sped up, his eyes darting around in panic.
He couldn't register anything he was seeing, it was all a blur.

That's because he was chained to the hood of the white van, his head dangling over the front of the car precariously. Alex let rip a gut-wrenching scream, startling one of the bodies beside him. He glanced to one side to see the dead body of the psycho woman from earlier, on his other side the same young woman was covered head-to-toe in blood, Alex couldn't tell if it was her own or not. Her thick frizzy hair was also slick with the dark red liquid, sticking to the white metal below them. Her jaw was clenched as she tried desperately to keep from crying out again, tear trails already streaked down her cheeks.

Alex threw his head back with a hiss as the pain returned in his arm.
"HELP! SOMEBODY!" He screamed, his lip trembling as the fear of what was going to happen to him slowly crawled in the back of his mind. "PLEASE! ANYBO-"

BEEEP
An ice cream truck skid onto the street right in front of the white van, braking in it's path and forcing it to stop. Alex and the woman beside him practically screamed as their heads hurtled towards the truck. He squeezed his eyes shut, once again awaiting impact that never arrived. The van stopped. The world finally fell still.

Alex slowly opened his eyes, his whole body shaking as he watched the ice cream van upside down.
From the van a tall man with curly black hair tied in a high bun burst from the back doors, a bazooka slung lazily over his shoulder. His eyes had three stripes painted over them like a mask, the french flag. He grinned and aimed the bazooka right at the white van's front window while two more men jumped out of the ice cream van, one in a blood-stained fur vest and a teddy-bear beanie and one shirtless with navy blue sweatpants, a Bane mask over his mouth wound with neon blue LED lights. Were they here to help? Please please please please please.

The teddy bear man and bane mask boy advanced forward with guns towards Alex and the lady. Alex's breath hitched in his throat and he began to tense up again, his arm burning. He made eye contact with bane mask boy, silently pleading for mercy. The boy frowned under his mask, Alex could see in his eyes, and gave him a small nod. An odd sensation of relief washed over Alex as he watched the boys continue closer to the passenger and driver windows. They both raised their guns, but the British bastards inside the van roared in anger and tried to reverse, only being blocked off by another ice cream truck, this one sporting a huge red medical cross on each side and the roof.

The white van's front car doors were thrown open, the two masked British killers bursting out and shooting at teddy bear, bane mask and french fry, who only shot back and with much better aim.
"I WILL KI-" one of the British men began to scream through his mask before a bullet pierced right through his chest. The other boy gasped and dropped his gun to surrender, but he was too late as a bullet had already shot through his gut, blood cascading from the wound and pooling on the road as he collapsed.

They were dead. Thank god. Alex wouldn't be sold for the kill, yet at least. He couldn't help a small whimper escaping his lips when bane mask and teddy bear advanced towards them, grabbing the chains that held them down. They raised their guns towards Alex and the woman and they gasped in horror.
"NONONO PLEASE!" The woman cried out.
"DON'T SHOOT DON'T SHOOT!" Alex yelped at the same time, wincing away. They didn't listen.

BANG BANG. The chains around Alex and the two women slipped away, falling to the road. Alex and the woman who was still alive immediately sat upright, gasping and scuttling against each other.
"Hey hey!" Bane mask called out, his voice muffled by his mask. He unclipped the side and let it fall down against his chest, revealing two freckle-splattered cheeks and soft plump lips, drawn down into a solemn frown. "We're not gonna hurt you," he spoke softly, advancing forward.

"Th-the last nice p-person I encountered tried to shoot me. More than once." Alex croaked hoarsely, shaking his head slowly.
"Here," Bane mask boy muttered, placing his gun on the floor and raising his arms. "We won't hurt you. We're the Purge crusaders," he smiled.

"Holy shit! The purge crusaders?" The woman beside Alex gasped, instantly slipping off the hood. "Oh thank god!"
Alex watched her with wide eyes, silent for once as he examined what was happening.
"Who-?"
"I'll tell you later," Bane mask boy muttered with a chuckle, walking closer to Alex and holding his hand out kindly. "I'm John,"

"Alexander-" Alex began, taking John's hand as he slipped off the hood.
"-Hamilton," John finished for him. "Big fan," he smiled warmly.

Suddenly two young women burst from the medical ice cream van behind them and ran towards the hood of the car, first aid kits in hand.
"What do we ha-" the taller of the two began to speak, her voice trailing off as she made eye contact with the blood-glazed girl beside Alex.
"Do you have any injuries we could help with?" The second, shorter girl finished with a worried glance at the dead body still on the hood.
"I'm fine, now that you guys are here at least," the blood-girl muttered with a small chuckle.
"I um, w-was shot," Alex muttered sheepishly, returning his hand to clutch his arm from when John was holding it.

"Mr Hamilton?" The taller girl gasped, brushing back her long silky black hair. "Come! Let's patch you up right away!" She spoke hurriedly, ushering him to the medical van. Alex glanced at John who nodded.
"I'll come, we need to move fast and get out of the open," he murmured, guiding Alex to the van. "Laf light her up once the medic van is clear!" John called out with a grin.
"Oui oui mon ami," Laf smirked playfully, adjusting the positioning of the bazooka on his shoulder.

The two medical girls, the girl coated in blood, Alex and John all returned to the medical van, one girl already there and setting up a stretcher in the back.
"Gun wound Angie!" The smaller girl called out as they approached.
"Do you have a kit on you Pegs?" Angelica called back.
"Eliza and I both do, yeah," Peggy smiled with a nod, jumping in the back, followed by Eliza and the blood glazed girl, Alex and John climbing in soon after, John closing the van doors.

"Alright lets park somewhere safer to fix this one up, then we continue patrolling," Angelica ordered, stepping back from the stretcher.
"I got the wheel," Eliza beamed, stepping through to the driver's seat.

"Well well Alexander Hamilton," Angelica beamed, patting the stretcher for him to take a seat, which he did. "Angelica Schuyler, these are my sisters Eliza and Peggy, it's a pleasure," she grinned, organising the first aid kit Peggy had left on the floor.
"Ah, thank you, thank you so much, I would've been sold to some whack job to be killed tonight if it weren't for you guys," Alex sighed gratefully.

"It's what we do, Purge crusaders, and who might you be?" Angelica smirked, turning to the blood-coated girl.
"Maria Reynolds, I've always looked up to you guys, honestly I wanted to be a crusader but never knew how to find you guys because of course you don't give out your identities like any sane person would-" she began to ramble excitedly before she was cut off.
"How well can you fight?" Peggy called out from the front.
"I can shoot a gun!" Maria grinned.
"Can you patch a wound?" Eliza asked as she started up the engine, driving around the white van and past the other ice cream truck.
"Definitely," Maria nodded determinedly.
"You're in chicka," Angelica smiled.

"I still don't know what you guys are," Alex cut in, cocking a brow at the girls and John.
"Right! We're the purge crusaders, basically we go around and rescue the innocent citizens who don't deserve to be killed," John smiled warmly.
"So you don't kill on purge night?" Alex queried, cocking a brow.
"Oh yeah, we purge the crazies," John nodded slowly. "We believe that purge night should be used to purge the real scum of our society, the people who are mad enough to torture others and kill their own families, not the poor who can't afford to defend themselves properly and would never kill another," John frowned.

Alexander smiled, but it fell slowly.
"Why the festive masks then? Isn't that reserved for the crazies?"
"Every superhero needs a costume and mask, but we agreed not to run around in capes and spandex," John chuckled with a shrug. "I mean, we can't be that bad, we drive around in two ice cream trucks-"

John was cut off by a massive BOOM behind the van.
"And Laf's got the bazooka going," John grinned excitedly before turning to Alex. "Alright let's get you patched up,"

I'll do a part 2 if I get enough interest, this was 3500 odd words mate hahahahha