"Gerard had felt burns before but never like this."
Police cars were parked in front of the hotel where My Chemical Romance was staying. Well, My Chemical Romance minus their lead singer. Which to Mikey, Ray, and Frank was barely My Chemical Romance at all. And that just wouldn't do.
Frank watched sympathetically as a very stressed out Mikey conversed with two policemen about when he had last seen Gerard. It hadn't been more than 24 hours, but he knew Mikey had gotten no sleep the night before. None of them had. They had spent their night calling everyone they knew, eventually resorting to wandering the streets at 3 AM to see if they could find him anywhere. They called Gerard's cell phone every 3 seconds. The show had obviously been cancelled, and they booked a room at the nearest hotel. They weren't about to leave the state without Gerard. They all agreed it was best to stay near where they last saw him, just in case he happened to have gotten lost and came wandering back.
They had tried not to panic, and they still told themselves not to. Yet as each hour passed, their worries increased just a little bit. Gerard would not just leave them without saying anything. It was clear by the morning after that he had to be in some sort of trouble. Even if that trouble was as simple as he got lost and his cell phone died, it was still dangerous.
They hadn't even eaten lunch yet. But who was hungry? They all had one and only one thought in all of their heads: The worry that Gerard had fallen into the wrong hands.
Three men were in his room. They wore black ski masks. Black shirts and black pants. Gerard tried to scream at them. Ask them what they want. Tell them they were going to be in big trouble for doing this. People were going to be looking for him.
They said absolutely nothing in response. One of them came close to him and undid the handcuffs that held his arms. The moment they did, Gerard scratched and punched at the man hovering over him. The man simply grabbed Gerard's wrists and held them in place. He was overpowered easily. Gerard wasn't exactly the strongest fighter physically. A second man came to the other side of the bed and together, he and the man stripped Gerard of his shirt.
A blush crept onto Gerard's cheeks. He hated being shirtless. He was always felt so ugly. Especially in front of strangers.
The both of them then did their best to turn Gerard over on the bed. They twisted him so he laid on his stomach, although this was uncomfortable as his ankles were still handcuffed to the bottom end of the bed.
"FUCK YOU! GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF ME!" Gerard shrieked as he struggled and flailed against their grasps.
They pinned him on his stomach well enough, although Gerard still fought against them. He heard the footsteps of the third man come up near him, and his heart beat became rapid. What kind of sick place was this? What were they going to do to him?
Gerard didn't have to wait long until he got his answer. Something metallic met his bare back. Something hot and metallic. It felt like some sort of heated metal rod. At first it wasn't so bad, but they dug it into his skin. Gerard felt his flesh being burnt. He screamed from the pain. He kicked his legs wildly, unable to do much else as the two men at his sides held him down. He could almost feel his own skin being melted away, as the rod traveled a line down his back.
The rod would be taken away for mere seconds of relief before replacing itself to draw another line. Gerard screeched and screamed.
"Please! Stop!" he begged them. Once he did, it felt as though the man only pressed the rod harder against his back. They seemed to be concentrating on the far sides of his back, avoiding the center where the spinal cord was.
It felt as though they were ripping through him with acid. Gerard had felt burns before but never like this. At the moment Gerard didn't know what he felt worse about: The immense pain he was being subjected to, or the realization that he had been taken captive by people who clearly aimed to hurt him.
No, this was definitely not one of Frank's pranks.
He lay in his bed, painfully breathing. Wishing desperately that he could clutch at his sides for the burning sensation he still felt in them. He had been returned to his previous position, his arms still handcuffed. The men had left in silence. Gerard had been left to bask in the pain they had inflicted.
It seemed like hours later before the door was opened again. Gerard's heart pounded as yet another person walked in. Another man in another ski mask. Except this man was pushing a cart inside with him. It looked to be a cart of medical supplies.
"Please..." Gerard pleaded "What do you want from me?"
Again silence was his only response. The man positioned the cart next to Gerard's bed. He grabbed Gerard by the waist and Gerard whimpered. The man spun him over like the other two did, this time not even bothering to remove the handcuffs or the shirt. However he did pull the shirt up just a bit and Gerard felt cold air hit his wounds.
Gerard braced himself for a blow. He tensed, not knowing what to expect. To his great surprise he felt an almost soothing cream hit his back. He craned his neck and saw that the man was using the medical supplies on his wounds in what seemed to be a healing way.
"You beat me and then you fucking fix me up? What the fuck is the point of that?" Gerard spat.
The person went about their work. Gerard began to think that maybe this person was there to help him. Someone who could get him out of here.
When they finished their task, they repacked their supplies. The man brushed Gerard's hair behind his ear and bent over so close, his lips nearly touched the side of his cheek.
He whispered, "The point is so we can just fuck you up all over again."
Next chapter: "She said kill me faster, with strawberry gashes all over, all over..."