It's a crucial instinct, fulled by fear. The body reacts, before the mind has even registered the danger, to preserve it's self from destruction.
But of course, fear can be manipulated. It can twist a person. Turn them into a coward or a killer, showing their true clolurs. Fear is essentially, as they say, the route of all evil.
Well, most evil.
There was nothing Gerard feared that directly lead to his behaviour. He just guessed he was mentally unfit. Insane. That's what they had said. The men in the white coats. Just before he gave way to his unexpected, inexplicable and uncontrollable rage that washed over him. Erasing the ablity to think, to listen to reason. There was only one thing on his mind when he was in one of his 'episodes'.
He supposed he was like The Incredible Hulk, in a way, with the anger that contolled him. But without the superhero element. Gerard Way had never saved anybody, and he never intended to.
Like tonight, as he witnessed the drunken man fall into the river, he did nothing to prevent it. Just watched as the current soon dragged his flailing body down into the depths of the murky water.
Hearing the sirens in the distance, Gerard decided to find some place to spend the rest of the night. It didn't matter if the police were looking for him or not; if he stuck around, they soon would be.
Making his way through the maze of backalleys he soon found himself outside the biggest illegal bar in town. And it was owned by the leader of the biggest illegal gang in town, so the police would never come sniffing around as long as the gang leader, Urie, kept handing out the money.
He stepped inside; it wasn't one of those places where you had to be on the guest list to enter. It was open to everyone, but the smart people stayed away. Criminals and law abiding citizens alike shared the sanctuary of this popular bar. Murderers, theives, bankers, shop owners and occasionally an off duty cop all visted this place. Sometimes even Mr. Urie himself graced the people with his precence.
Heading over to the bar, he studied the people around him. He was always careful not to let his gaze linger, or he'd get knuckle to the face. He'd learned that the hard way.
The place was quiet today. It was only a Tuesday, after all. Just a few regular alcholics, drinking away their troubles. And a girl, at the other end of the bar, talking with Jimmy the bartender.
When he saw Gerard approach the bar, Jimmy came over.
"Just a beer, thanks Jimmy," The younger told the old man.
Jimmy nodded and poured his beer. He handed over the money and the wizened old bartender procceeded to wipe some glasses.
"Soo, anyone interesting in here lately?" Gerard asked, trying to break the slightly awkward atmosphere as Jimmy watched him silently.
"Aye," said Jimmy, lowering his voice and looking around before he continued. "You ever 'eard of The Swift?"
Gerard frowned, hoping for exciting tales of cold-blooded criminals. Not petty theives with stupid, made-up names."Um, no. I don't think so."
Jimmy spoke in a hushed whisper as he said "Ah, well, you've been missing out, kid."
Gerard scoffed, for he was not a kid. He would be twenty-one in April.
"She's the best killer 'round here, I've heard. An' I've met people willing to bet she's the best killer in the 'ole world. Makes thousands from it, you see. Picked her job well didn't she, better than a stinkin' bartender!" Jimmy exclaimed.
Gerard said nothing for a moment, shocked into temporary silence at the thought that Jimmy would rather be out there, slaughtering people for money, than in here, safely serving beer. He quickly recovered though.
"She?" He asked almost disbelieveingly. He was not sexist, but women were not usually the ones at the height of a proffesion like that.
"Aye," Jimmy grinned. "She. And she's right over there."
Looking in the direction Jimmy nodded, he saw the girl. Except she wasn't just any girl. Apparently.
As Gerard stared, her head snapped up. Glaring at him, she shook the raven-black hair from her face and stood, taking her drink and sitting in the farthest, darkest corner of the bar.
He was about to follow her, but Jimmy stopped him.
"Don't want to mess with her," He warned. "Especially not tonight."
"Why?" Gerard asked, intrigued by this girl. She didn't look like a killer, with her skinny, slender frame, pale skin and beautiful face. But then again, he probably didn't look like an insane freak with anger management problems.
"Mr. Urie's paying us a visit tonight. And I've 'eard they're pretty close." He grumbled. He didn't much like his boss being here. He was always causing trouble, and his goons were always getting into fights.
"What do you mean 'pretty close'?" Gerard's eyes narrowed.
Jimmy's mouth opened to tell him exactly what he meant, but a certain owner of the bar they were sitting in took that moment to barge in loudly, door banging against the wall, and call out "The party has started, gentlemen!"
"Wouldn't stay here if I were you. Gets pretty rowdy," Jimmy advised, already moving to tend to his boss.
"Good idea, thanks Jimmy!" He called out to the bartender before stepping out a side exit and into the night.