The nightmare before christmas, dreams and the first murder
Disclaimer: This is me. This is me disclaiming. This is me disclaiming owing MCR. This is me laughing evilly. This is the U.N threatening to lock me up. This is me being scared. This is crap. Please carry on reading. Thankyou
Going Out Forever Unknown
Frank sat, lounging back against the sofa as Tim Burton's The Nightmare before Christmas drifted out of the TV in front of him and the rest of My Chemical Romance. They'd decided that, rather than dwell on what was happening they'd sit and watch a film and then work out what had happened later. It was a stupid idea and they'd all known it but to be perfectly honest none of them knew what they were gonna do about it and at the moment more stress was more than they could deal with right now. Glancing down at his watch Frank grinned as he saw it was nearly 11 o'clock at night which meant that they'd probably not end up discussing anything tasking till tomorrow morning...that was if they were still there tomorrow morning. Frank sighed and leant back against the sofa, what had been just a film had turned into all three Lord of the Rings films and then the Nightmare before Christmas. Something like eleven hours of TV with only a pizza break at lunch time. It wasn't like any of them minded, Gerard especially, when he'd come back in he'd been incredibly preoccupied but it had been him who'd come in and suggested they all watched a film and now they had just got to Sally's Song and no one was likely to move for a while. Frank smiled to himself, he hadn't a clue in hell what was going to happen or where they were but films were a brilliant way of forgetting that.
Screams, high pitched and piercing echoed from the attic far above his head. His trainers pounded on the cold marble floor as he careered towards the sweeping staircase. The screams got louder as he reached the top but instead of going into any of the rooms his brain told him to run down the left corridor. He shot around the corner till he was far by a badly painted wall at the end of the passage, yelling out in frustration he kicked it hard, his eyes widening in shock a door swung back away from him, leaning to a dusty, midnight stairway. But he didn't stop to marvel instead he rushed through the doorway and up the stairs, desperate to find what ever was screaming. At the top of the stairway was another heavy oaken door, but it was padlocked shut. He screamed out in annoyance and desperation and slammed into it hard with his fists, so hard that splinters shot out of the old door and into his palms. Drops of ruby red blood began to run down his wrists to drop onto the stairway, staining it with crimson, but he didn't stop, yelling out a name he had always known but his brain didn't realise he ever had but was echoing through his lips at the door from his very soul nonetheless. Then in seconds there was silence. Perfect and unbroken and even the words that still spewed from his lips were muted as all went quiet for an eternity of seconds, until the last heart wrenching scream and the scrape of metal, followed by the sound of death, the eerie silence and the smell that drift like a fog around graveyards and cemeteries. Then the spell was broken and in seconds of colour and a swirling mist as well as a cry of agony that seemed to sound from his own lips, he woke up to a world that didn't understand.
Frank jerked awake to the sound of someone's scream of agony. Throwing himself over the side of the bed he rushed across the carpet and into the room he'd known it had come from. Pushing open the door he saw the Mikey was already there, kneeling next to his brother and murmuring something Frank couldn't quite caught. Less than seconds later Ray rushed in, followed closely by Bob.
"What the hell?" The drummer asked, making everyone turn around. It was the first glance Frank got of Gerard and he looked awful; his hair was a tangled mess and he was paler than a ghost, a silent tear was trickling down his cheek.
The vocalist sighed and looked up at Bob with tired eyes "Guys I need to show you something." He said quietly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and narrowly missed whacking Mikey around the head.
The rest of the band mumbled something and fell into step behind Gerard as he proceeded out of his room and down the left corridor. Frank, who'd been behind Mikey glanced back at the bassist and waited a minute for him to catch up, he looked as worried as it was possible to look and his eyes trawled along the carpet instead of watching where his older brother was leading them.
"Mikey?" Frank asked slowly as he walked beside the band's younger brother. "What the hell happened?"
Mikey sighed "I reckon he had another messed up dream." He told Frank, glancing at him. "But why the hell he needs to show us sommot I don't know."
Frank nodded and they lapsed back into silence before they reached the end of the corridor.
Gerard stood for a minute, facing the wall, knowing that all eyes were on him and feeling the rush and paranoia and fear that he'd felt when he'd first come to this damn place. Then, praying with all his might this would work slammed his foot hard into the door. It didn't quite have the effect it had in the dream, due to the fact that in dreams you can feel no pain but in reality when you kick an old wooden door with no shoes on his kinda hurts. He could tell that the others were looking sceptical by now and him grimacing in pain from colliding the door probably wasn't helping. But to his relief seconds later the hidden door swung back, silently and effortlessly on it's hinges and they were faced with the foreboding, pitch black staircase that Gerard's dream had led him to.
"Guys, I think someone died up here."