Chapter Eight: Star Crossed Liars
It took more or less six loud bangs before they broke into the door, shattering it into pieces on the porch. Gerard was too out of it to realize it even then, when the first one started clambering into the hole they had created.
He did not grasp the magnitude of the situation until their hands were on him, throwing punches at wherever they could reach. He let out a pitiful whine, and lifted his arms in a pathetic attempt to protect himself, but they were easily knocked away. He managed to let out a scream when one of the grabbed his hand and twisted his wrist.
"AGH! WHAT THE FUCK?!?" Gerard screeched. He barely caught glimpses of his attackers, but he knew he had seen them before. Yet amidst their vicious attacks, they explained themselves in angry taunts and accusations.
"Fucking little slut!"
"You should have known this was coming to you when you cheated on our Frankie!"
"No --- AHHH!"
His shoulder bones felt ready to crack apart as he was slammed against the nearest wall. The one who held him to it was the larger of the two, and it was only then that Gerard could get a clear look at his face.
Familiar, so familiar.
But it was difficult to concentrate, considering the fact that this man was pressing his thumbs into his Adam's apple. Gerard could do not much else but focus on trying to breathe, while he gagged, sputtered, and struggled, the rest of his body still throbbing in pain from the blows before then.
A smaller one came forth, and he withdrew a large knife from his pocket.
"Now, let's see. What should we cut first?" the small one grinned, and he brought the knife up to Gerard's currently compressed throat. The cool metal of the blade grazed his skin gently, and aside from the terror that consumed him, he felt something else --- recollection.
Recollection, like when a song or some sort of trigger comes on, and all of a sudden you're brought back to a point in time. Perhaps a point that you might have forgotten about, something you had suppressed to the back of your mind. But that trigger brings you back there, and it's so real, you can almost smell it.
The smell of sweat and sex filled his lungs. The setting of a dark hotel room, the feeling of the knife that had been pressed against his side. The vision of a man above him, a man in a black mask who grinned a maniacal grin.
The sound of a whisper.
It all came back.
Gerard was brought out of his trance as he felt cold wind on the skin of his legs. He realized that they had ripped off his jeans, and in a sudden bout of alertness, tried to kick them off of him. But the big one still had his hand locked into his throat, and Gerard found his strength to be extremely weak.
Finally, they threw him down to the soft carpet below. Yet the landing was still rough, as he fell face down into it's beige color. One of them spent a few moments stomping on his back with a heavy step. Gerard felt for a moment like they might squeeze his organs out of him, like a tube of toothpaste.
When the stomping stopped, stabbing began. Gerard felt the blade dive into his right side 1, 2, 3 times before it moved onto his left. Gerard wasn't aware when he had started crying. For a very long while, there was no other sensation except for pain.
"You wanna get fucked so bad?" he heard one of them say from what felt like a great distance, "Fine!"
Seconds later, Gerard felt the cold and wet metal of the blade grazing his buttocks. They drove it right into his anus, clearly ripping apart the interior at the first jab. Gerard screeched again, and squirmed his hips as they removed it. But they were not finished and continued to do this in repeated motions. They thrusted the blade in and out of his ass, until Gerard was certain that everything in the near vicinity of the canal must have been shredded.
He could not stop screaming, even when they turned him around. The scrawny one was holding the blood covered knife, and it was then that Gerard finally identified the features shared commonly within the Iero family. At that, all he could do was shake his head.
"What do you think?" said the bigger one. He reached forward and grabbed Gerard's knees, splitting his legs open and forcing him into a spread eagle position on the floor.
"Hmm... I don't know." the scrawny one smirked, and Gerard could not understand what they were alluding to until he held the knife against the limp shaft of Gerard's penis. He used the sharp side to apply pressure against the base, just enough so that it didn't pierce through.
Gerard did not argue with them, could not find the strength to, but found himself sobbing harder than he had during the whole ordeal.
The scrawny one began to make a slow and taunting sawing motion, probably cutting open a bit. But then he laughed. And he stopped.
"I think he's been taught a nice lesson." he declared with a smug voice, "But don't think this is over yet, slut. We ain't the only ones out to get you after what you did to Frankie."
"F- Frankie? What -- what happened to Frankie?" Gerard gasped out, and he wasn't quite sure why even asked. Perhaps, in as much horrible pain and trauma as he was, he still wanted to know what answers they might have.
The two boys looked at each other, and exchanged sly grins. The bigger one was the next to speak. He told Gerard in a low growl, "He killed himself. It was about 2 days ago, he shot himself in the head because of what you did. You fucking destroyed him, it's all your fault."
At that, Gerard screamed horrendous screams that came from a much more ripping pain. Something inside him broke, but it felt much more like his spirit than any bone. He didn't even notice the two leaving, or the laughs they exchanged in the front yard at their own little white lie.
They figured that Gerard would figure it out sooner or later, but it was innocent fun causing an amusing reaction for the here and now.
But unknown to them, there wasn't going to be a later.
Gerard had begun to crawl, painting the floors with red in his wake. He was already making his way to the gun in their pantry.
And not too far away from there, a very much alive Frank Iero was having coffee with Angela. They sat on the leather couch, watching episodes of Party Down. Just as Frank was about done with his coffee, he saw the top Schrodinger's cat ears appear just below the couch seats. He patted his lap for her to come up.
He supposed he was warming up to him.
"Good Artemis, yessss...." Frank cooed at it as it settled in by kneading at his jeans.
"Artemis?" Angela raised an eyebrow at him.
"Schrodinger is a fucking weird name! You can't even shorten it!" Frank snapped at her, and Angela laughed.
"Shut up, it's a brilliant name. Haven't you ever heard of Schrodinger's Cat?" she scoffed.
"No." Frank answered, but turned his attention back to the cat in an obvious way to show "I don't really care, either". But Angela wouldn't let that pass. She explained the experiment of the cat and the box, but Frank tuned her out, only catching a few words here and there. It wasn't until the end that he comprehended what she was saying.
"...It revolves round a principle of quantum theory called superposition, which basically claims that if you don't know what the state of any object is, then - as long as you don't look to check - it is actually in all possible states simultaneously. The paradox is that observation affects the outcome, so the outcome doesn't exist until the observation is made."
He stared at her blankly, and an expression of annoyance came upon your face before she sighed.
"It means you can't say something is anything until you check, and know for sure."
Now a second expression came on her face, that was much different from the last. Frank knew Angela enough to know what she was thinking, but partially because she hadn't left him alone about it since he had moved in. Frank groaned, and looked away towards the kitchen. He didn't want to see her look of satisfaction as he gave in.
"I'll check on him tomorrow."
While he didn't see her smile, he heard her squeal of delight. He rolled his eyes, and went back to petting the cat.