Frank's always wanted a more 'interesting' life, maybe not in the way he's to receive it, though.
im sorry I havent updated for like 8282737393 years
but here have more shitty fic bi mi
"Holy crapping shitty bollocks-" Ray began to mindlessly drawl, the panic stricken glow adorning his mahogany orbs.
"Ray, you aren't English, dude," Frank commented, gripping onto the bar above the car door as fast and his limp limbs would tolerate. Ray rolled the wheel manically, ripping the gear stick half to shreds whilst trying to U-turn in the opposite direction of the notorious fucking killer.
"Shit," Ray growled as the right tyres lodged their way over the curb of the parking lot. But he wasn't cursing in fear for his damaged wheels. Oh fucking no.
Barriers. Bright, orange, a luminous gates. Barricading them inside the faculty. With no escape. Penned in with Gerard Way.
"Fucking hell," Ray cried, shaking like a leaf. He hurriedly proceeded to turn the engine off. He glanced at Frank, who was just as dumb stricken as he was.
"R-ray?" Frank whimpered, looking around the scene as if if he absorbed as much as he could he might just disappear. Disappear as he should've done before. "What's gonna happen to us?"
A wreck shot rang through the car windows, causing the two men to duck, and somewhat girlishly, scream.
Frank, still quivering, dared to look up sheepishly, keeping himself as low in the car as possible.
And then he saw him; Gerard Way. Full, flesh, and right in front of his eyes. Literally.
There the murderer stood, leaned casually against the car engine. Matted, moist -partly grease, partly from the steady needles of rain- lengths of raven black hair fell to just above the shoulder. His murky eyes glared back into Frank's own, metaphorical daggers piercing every little existence left of his bravery. A look that killed.
And there it was, the signature smirk. The smirk that said, "Hey, nice day? I hope it was, cause I'm gonna rip your throat out."
Frank was frozen. The only thing that stood between him and guaranteed death was a flimsy car screen. Well shit, Frank. You always complained your life is dull as Ray's sex life.
The only thing he was slightly aware of was Ray's delayed breathing beside him as the Gerard Way sauntered round to the passenger door, completely ignoring the police department's demamds.
The man was enjoying this, clearly. Leaning down so his face was adjacent to the glass, he tapped three times with two fingers, smirking almost seductively as he saw Frank coil beneath his stare, his friend looking like a deer in headlights. He grinned psychopathically as he slid his knuckles down from the glass and gently curled it around the handle.
The shouting of the crowds and forces were distant and muffled as Frank felt everything collapse in his chest, waiting for what he knew, what he fucking knew was heading fast his way.
Gerard waited, his lips still crafted in the same, patronizing smile. He waited, till all was silent, till the only thing sounding was the thumping heartbeat of every person in the scene, until he rattled the handle, laughing his satisfaction out as he heard everybody jump.
Frank stared helplessly up at the man, completely unable to move.
Gerard's eyes burning into his; everyone was waiting.
It all happened within seconds, within a wink.
Within a nanosecond of Gerard's left eye blinking, somehow superiorly, Frank's arms had been bound behind his back at the wrists, pulled to his feet rather ungracefully and had an amazingly massive bicep gripped under his chin.
Hm, well this is kinda interesting, I guess. Now I'm Gerard Way's hostage. Great choice of wish, you fucking twat.
"FRANK!" Ray's cry of grief scratched at the evergrowing layer around Frank's hearing. "Shut it, fro." And there was a shot and a scream and Frank opened his mouth to cry for his bestfriend but made no sound and he was only half concious when he noticed that he had never felt more protected than in the arms of the killer, regardless the butt of a pistol against his temple.
The last thing he heard before he blacked out was in a rich, thick voice of someone who knew where he stood. "Let's go, Iero."
aah sorry this was so crap and dull and kinda short but I needed to get this bit out the way im so sorry -weepweep'