Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Chance Days: The Original Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys3 Reviews
Frank was a Drac before, wasn't he?
I pulled my tan scarf over my nose and began climbing down from the rocks when I saw red hair running from the overturned car. I shouted at Party Poison and pulled out my pistol, loading the laser and shooting at the man instantly. He dodged the blast and began shooting backwards, not daring to turn back to get proper aim but hitting around me every time. I yelped at one of Party Poison’s blasts hit my shin, knocking me over and leaving me to watch and shoot randomly at the fading red hair. The hair disappeared, and I realized how bad of a situation I was in.
Biting my lip, I looked down at my shin, preparing for the worst. I let out a sigh of relief and smiled a little as I saw my leg wasn’t blown off like last time, or bleeding enough to make my head spin. It was just a minor blast. I grimaced, standing up, and began dusting myself off, wondering how Party Poison got away this time. Normally, whenever I set my sights for a killjoy to bring to Korse, I got that killjoy within a month. But this guy, Party Poison… So far, one year, and it’s still just a massive game of cat and mouse.
I finished dusting myself off, and, checking to make sure I didn’t have any new tattoos, I began limping towards Party Poison’s car. As I came closer, I noticed it was an old Trans Am, just like the one my parents would watch for in the 80’s. I chuckled but limped a little bit faster, the numbness slowly creeping up my leg. I needed to get this wrapped up before I got an infection. I reached Party Poison’s car, and, sinking down in the shade of the overturned car, I tore a long strip of my scarf off, praying to Mother Mary it wasn’t dirty. I let the strip flutter in the wind a second, a poor attempt to shake the dirt out of it, and placed the strip over my shin, hissing as my leg began to sting.
“C’mon, you damn midget, you can take it,” I told myself, gritting my teeth as I wrapped my leg up with the scarf. “Don’t be a pussy…”
Finally I finished wrapping my leg up enough to hobble back to my hideout, but when I tried to stand I couldn’t. I huffed and looked at the car behind me, watching it smoke quietly. “I give up,” I said to no one, and turned on my stomach, groping around to see if anything would work as a cane. My hand patted the parched ground quickly, trying to find something. I heard something crunch, and I gripped my hand around whatever it was, hoping it would reflect and show the interior of the car. I looked up at what I was holding in my hand, and I smirked. A little girl, probably 8 or 9, smiled back at me from a Polaroid, her wild hair in her face.
“How sweet…” I mumbled, pocketing the picture before trying to find anything again. “Maybe she’ll be worth something… Maybe I’ll get more money for each catch. And then, when I catch Party Poison…” I grinned, “I’ll be the one to kill him.”
A gun blast hit by my leg, and I gasped, quickly scooting up under the car through the T-top, silently pulling out my gun and putting my scarf on. A second blast, farther away from me but one that hit the car, was fired, and I peeked out from under the car, looking for any signs on life. A haze was riding towards me, growing white before I realized it was a gun shot and I moved out of the way before it could hit me. I shot blindly, not wanting to look back, and went through a sequence in my mind, the sequence of fight or flight. I looked at my leg, and saw that it was bleeding through the scarf.
“Fuu-uuck!” I cursed quietly, groaning as movement caused my leg to throb uncomfortably. Another blast sounded, and I gritted my teeth, going through the sequence again. “You can run, pussy … Use that leg…” I told myself, getting into a crouching position, ignoring the pain shooting through my leg and ignoring the blast that resounded once again. I looked behind me to see a white block behind me, another blast shooting at me. I ducked down and started running from the car, praying, once again, that I wouldn’t die this time.
I listened to the sound of the motorcycle behind me, the sound of yet another blast, the sound of my feet hitting the ground. My breath slowed along with time, and my limp went away as I ran for what felt like forever. Once I hit the rocky cliff of my hideout, I quickly ran around it, into a niche behind the hideout, a place with a dirt screen door. Opening the door, I collapsed against the wall, forcing my breath down and hoping the motorcycle couldn’t go up the slope. I listened for a while longer, after my breathing had calmed, wondering if these walls would hide me for a while longer, just long enough to pack my stuff and bandage my leg.
Five more minutes, and I forced myself to stand up, cautiously leaning on my good leg and holding onto the wall for support. I pushed myself off the wall quickly, scowling at my need for support. I didn’t need support. I wasn’t terminally hurt. I hobbled to one of the cabinets I have in my hideout, opening it as fast as I could before I crashed and gripping a shelf in haste. I let out a breath, and looked up, hoping I got the right cabinet. I did. I smiled and grabbed the gauze and alcohol, a tune suddenly playing in my head. I swayed my hips in time, unrolling gauze as I stumbled to a chair of mine, humming along. I took my scarf off my leg and cleaned it with the rubbing alcohol, still humming, though wincing. The wound clean, I began wrapping gauze around my leg, not expecting the need to take my pants off so I would get everything. I stopped, face palmed, and began unwrapping the gauze, marveling at the amount now gone to waste.
Once the gauze was off I began peeling the BLI-approved jeans, cursing at myself for wincing and biting my lip. It seemed like forever for the jeans to come off, I guess it didn’t help tha—
“FUCK!” I yelled out, stopping and immediately gripping my leg my eyes screwed shut as waves of pain unleashed themselves upon me. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…” I began chanting, gritting my teeth at the pain. It seemed like it would never end, the pain… It just kept coming and coming on hard. I finally went numb, the pain not so acute so I could finish peeling the jeans off me and begin wrapping my leg up again.
Something knocked around outside, and I sighed, not wanting to stand and check. Another thing crashed around, and I huffed, forcing myself up and staring at the door warily. Could be Korse again, I thought to myself, then shook my head. Korse would radio me if he was. A voice floated through the door, and I put my hand on my ray gun, now wanting to check but I didn't have anything to lean on.
"Kob! Over here!" I heard someone whisper sharply, and I gripped my gun, knowing fully well who was outside. Outnumbered? I wondered, scowling, and I took a silent breath before inching towards the entrance, trying not to wince in pain.
"Poison! Get over here!" another voice whispered, and I watched the door, not before losing my step and falling over. "Fuck!" I cried out, losing my grip on my gun and screaming in pain when I hit my shin on a random box on the floor. The door opened quickly, and I was too busy yelling my head off and clutching my leg to see three killjoys stare at me through my door, Party Poison leading.
Somebody picked me up off the ground and set me on a chair, leaving me to my whimpering self. I looked up and a killjoy with the world's fluffiest hair was coming at me with rope. I growled and hopped up, hand going to my holster, but I felt around and my gun wasn't there. I looked on the ground where I had been and tried to reach for my gun, but Captain Fluffers here caught me and sat me back down, tying me up quickly as the blond one and Party Poison searched through my hideout.
"You won't find anything, killjoys," I yelled to them, "Anything important is in Battery City."
Party Poison turned around from checking my medicine cabinet and smiled at me. "All we needed was a name, Frank," he said, holding my BLI card in the air and flicking it at me. He then looked at the wall behind me. "Must be hunting me down, eh?" he asked, pointing at the wall behind me, where an oversized map of Battery City and surrounding cities was pinned up, with different colored dots marking which killjoy I had hunted and where they lived, and so one.
I glared at him, and the blond killjoy and Captain Fluffers went to stand by Party Poison. "Untie and I'll tell you or not," I said in a low voice, avoiding my shin for a moment. "It could just be a map."
The blond one chuckled. "Sure. And I don't wear red." I looked down at the man's jacket: red. Fuck. "Just tell us what it is, Frank, and we may leave you alone."
Party Poison shook his head and looked at the blond haired man. "He's hurt, Kobra, we can't just leave him here!" he said with a strong voice, looking stern. "We'll have to take him with us."
"Poison, we can't take him with us," Captain Fluffers chimed in with voice that sounded like it needed a little longer in puberty. "He's registered BL/ind, and it looks like he's hunting you down. Taking him with us would be suicide."
Party Poison rolled his eyes. "When has that stopped us before, Jet?" he asked, eyebrows raised and head down a little. "Besides, just because BLI and Korse are bad, that doesn't make us the bad guys." Party Poison looked at me and put his hands on his hips. "We're taking him with us back to the house."
New idea, haven't seen it done, blah blah blah... Maybe I can actually update on this one?
And apologies to those previously in my other KJ fic, ViRa, but you will not be used in this fiction. This whole thing will be the four, Grace, the Dracs, some Death and some Show Pony... No thing or no body else. Not even the Black. Basically, Na Na Na turned into a fiction, with said prequel of Frankie (m'boy) becoming a killjoy like the rest of us.
Might rant on here in author's notes too...
Sorry for lack of action.