A massacre, and he doesn't even care
I look at the wood door, deciding on how to enter. With a bang? Or quietly? They're both fun ways to work, and I can enjoy the hunt more if they run. But if they get away, they might tell the police. But that would be more fun for me, running from the police. it might grow old after a while, though.
I pull out my gun, checking how many bullets I have. Six. It's an old gun, and that's my best excuse. This was the first gun I had ever shot someone with, though. Couldn't bear to get rid of her. I do, of course, have three back up guns stored in various places around my body in case Lucy (my gun) decides not to work, or I run out of bullets.
I shoot the lock on the door, then kick the rickety thing open. Five bullets left. The room is hazy from the fireplace in the corner of the room, the semi-light very ominous. There are two women cleaning tables, a man cleaning glasses at the bar, a young boy sweeping. One of the twins is missing from this, I realize as their heads swing towards me.
"Hello." I start off, firing a bullet quickly into the head of the man at the bar. Four bullets left. "My" I say, letting lose another bullet, and I am rewarded by the violent spray of blood coming from the accounted for 20-year old's left temple. Three bullets. "Name is" I add, firing again, grinning as the bullet sticks into the old woman's chest. Two bullets remain. "Gerard." I grin, pulling the trigger, fully knowing the price of my evil. The bullet lodges into the boy's stomach, so he'll slowly bleed to death. If he lives that long.
"Where is your sister?" I ask the bleeding boy. I have one bullet left, and I'm not going to waste it on him. It's for his sister.
"I don't know!" The thirteen year old spits at me, and I frown. This boy is strong. Not too strong, though. I dig my fingers into the bullet wound, and he screams, writhing in pain.
"Are you sure you don't know?" I ask, my voice a bit too cheerful for sanity. I pull me fingers into his meaty torso, taking with me the bullet I shot in.
"U-Upstairs!" he gasps, panting heavily, tears falling from his eyes. I smile sweetly.
"Thank you, sugar." Snap! Ooopsy daisy, did I just crack his neck? That's so sad! I chuckle at my own little joke. It isn't his fault he's related to a whistle-blower who screwed some big company. I mean, that's what this job is about. Revenge on a man by the massacre of his family. I love the logic of some people. The whistle blower is already dead. Killed her myself.
I sigh, I have one bullet left. I better make Lucy's last shot count. But it's not as if I've ever missed, so I doubt there will be a problem.
I slowly make my way up the rickety stairs, humming to myself, a song called Heads Will Roll by Yeah Yeah Yeahs. "Off with your head, Dance 'till you're dead, Heads will roll, Heads will roll on the floor" I sing out, letting the twin I'm hunting know I'm her now. I want her to be scared, it's more fulfilling this way. I hear a muffled breathing once I reach the landing. I look down the dark wood hallway, and take an immediate right, into a brown doored room from where the breathing's coming. I fling the door open. I grin. The girl is huddled up behind a bed, out of sight. But I still know where she's chosen to hide. Hiding in a corner never helps, stupid girl.
I slowly walk over to the opposite side of the room as where I entered, knowing full well she'll try to attack me, scared out of her mind at the suspense. Sure enough, as soon I'm within her eyesight, she lunges at me. I push her back into the corner, expecting this.
"Don't kill me!" She begs, tears running down her face. She's shaking, sitting on the floor in a look of prayer. Prayer that I won't kill her. A prayer that won't be answered.
"Why shouldn't I?" I ask lightly. There's no way I'll stop.
"Don't you want to go to Heaven?" She asks, desperate. I shrug.
"I know the price of my evil." I say, practically obliterating her plea for her life.
"But...Doesn't it hurt to know you belong in Hell?" She asks, shaking in her high heels. Her brown hair in her face, tears streaking her face. God, she's a mess.
I laugh, putting my gun to her head. "Nothing stops the madness, haunting, yearning, right before I pull the trigger." I smile. BAM! And she's a dead, ugly, disfigured body strewn across the floor. I hear a thump in the hallway, so I turn and fling open the door, revealing a small boy, a teenager likely. He's beautiful. He has wavy, chin length black-brown hair, huge chocolate and green melded eyes, a lip ring and a nose ring. He's shaking, and bolts down the hall once he sees me.
"Stop, or I'll shoot!" I yell, training my gun on him. He stops in his tracks. Idiot. He might have gotten away if he'd continued along, Lucy's out of bullets.
The boy slowly turns to face me, eyes wide and shaking in fear. I walk closer to him, and lead him down the stairs, gun to head. Once we get to the door, I put one arm around his waist, the other, the one with the gun, pointed at his back.
"Scream for help and I will kill you." I whisper. I should have killed him already. We walk silently, him still shaking as we walk along the deserted streets to my current apartment.
"Sit." I command, once we're inside, pointing to a beat up brown couch. "Don't even think of running." I tell him. He's started crying by now.
"Are you going to kill me?" He asks quietly.
I shrug, putting my gun down on the table, taking off my coat. He, of course, grabs it, pointing it at me. I chuckle slightly. I knew he'd do that.
"Why are you laughing?" He asks, clearly confused.
"Go ahead, pull the trigger." I shrug. He does, only to be faced with the click of an empty barrel.
"I-it was empty?" He asks, clearly astounded. I nod. He bolts to the door, only to be snatched up and then shoved against one of the deep red walls by none other than me. I pin him to the wall, making his escape improbable.
"Don't even think of leaving." I hiss.
"O-okay." He gulps. I hold him to the wall a little longer, merely enjoying the feel of his skin on mine.
"What's your name?" I ask softly, still not letting him up.
"F-Frank Iero." He stutters, then a look of horror crosses his face.
XX Frank's P.O.V. XX
Oh God, why did I tell the insane murderer my name? Now he'll be able to track me if I run! This can't be good. It's probably also not good that even though he's going to kill me, all my immediate thoughts concern either his breath on my face, his hands around mine, or his intense hazel gaze. Not to mention his...
"Frank, hm... That's a common name." He says, frowning slightly as he interrupts y dirty thoughts.
"My friends call me Frankie!" I blurt out. His eyes light up.
"I like that. Frankie..." He seems to mull it over in his mouth. "My name's Gerard." He smiles. Oh God, if he's telling me his name he must be about to kill me. I feel my tears start to well up. "Why are you crying now?" He asks, taking note of my tears.
"Because you're going to kill me." I bite my lip, looking at the floor to my left.
"No, I don't think I will." He gazes over me. "Yeah...I promise I won't."
XX Gerard's P.O.V. XX
Ah, shit. Why did I have to promise him that? As a rule, I don't break promises. So now I can't kill him. I'll have to take him with me. I can't leave him, I gave him my real name. He's too beautiful for me to let anyone else kill him. And it would violate my promise. Sure, I said I wouldn't kill him, but if I get someone else to do it it would be dirty.
Listen to me, after all I've done, all the blood on my hands, breaking a promise terrifies me. But killing is easy. Dealing with humans is not. I've always somehow screwed it up. But I've never broken a promise, and I intend to keep it that way.
Frankie's eyes widen in shock. "Then what are you going to do with me?" He asks.
"Hm...I'm going to take you with me." I decide. If it's possible, his eyes grow even wider.
"You're going to teach me to kill people?" He asks. I shake my head, fighting back uncontrollable laughter.
But I can't help it. I giggle. "No, no no!" I laugh. It's been a long time since I've had a good laugh, even if I'm pinning the source of my laughter to a wall in my temporary abode.
"Then what?" He asks.
Once I'm finally giggle-free, I answer. "I don't know, just keep me company. We'll be going places where they don't speak English, so it'll be difficult to run away. Besides, you have nothing to fear from me. I promised you I wouldn't kill you, and I never break a promise."
"You didn't say you wouldn't hurt me." He says quickly, his eyes darting to mine, then back to the floor.
I sigh. "That's not a promise I can make. Though I can say that if I hurt you, it won't be on purpose." I say, though it doesn't seem to do much, good or bad.
"Why would you hurt on accident?"
"Well, it'd be an accident, so I wouldn't really do it on purpose." I say.
"But you think it's likely." He says flatly, staring straight into my eyes.
"Um, yeah... Well, it's similar with burning toast. I don't want to do it, but I somehow do." I say, un-pinning him from the wall. "If you leave, though, I will hunt you down." I promise, locking our eyes so he knows I'm dead serious.
"O-okay!" He squeaks.
XX Frank's P.O.V. XX
Aw shit. I'm fucked. I have an insanely gorgeous, insane, likely homophobic man holding me captive for forever, and though I'm scared, I don't notice as much because of the utter hotness coming from him. I hope he keeps his word. I wish I could tap his perfect ass, though. I wouldn't really mind dying for that...