Dead bodies and a child whose mother is a muderer of the worst kind
Disclaimer: Welcome to my mad house. Please note all characters own themselves...apart from Melaina and Kaela that is...
Chrysanthemums of White
Mikey blanched "Then why the hell are you showing us?" He almost yelled, turning a nasty shade of green.
Gerard turned around to look at him "Cos it bugs me." He said simply "If you don't wanna come you don't have to."
Mikey looked at the floor and didn't reply, obviously hurt.
Gerard sighed and walked over to his younger brother "I'm sorry Mikey," He said quietly "I just want to know, I won't look down on you if you don't want to come."
Mikey shook his head "I'm coming." He told Gerard defiantly, glancing at him.
Gerard smiled "Thanks," He said, before sighing and walking back towards the stairs before starting up into the blackness, the rest of the band glanced at each other for a couple of seconds before trooping up the stairs after him.
It was pitch black on the uneven wooden stairs that spiralled into the loft. The steps were worn smooth and the passage smelt of mothballs and damp. Mikey walked behind his brother around the curve of the stairs, the only sounds reaching his ears in the darkness were the clunk of their bare feet on the stairs and the whisper that was his and his brother's breathing. It seemed to take them an age to reach the oak door at the very top, Gerard stepping up onto the landing while the others crowded around the top of the stairs. Breathing out cold air he grasped the frozen door knob with his left hand and turned it slowly, hearing the rewarding click as the door swung open away from him and into the attic. The rush of ice cold air that cascaded out of the room was mind numbing, it fell in waves from the almost solid darkness of the room, like it had been waiting to escape for eternity. Gerard bit his lip before stepping cautiously into the room, his hand scraping the wall behind him to find the light switch; there was a click as he found it seconds later but the gasp of horror that echoed from his own lips and those of the rest of the band was more numbing than the frozen air had been.
"I'm gonna be sick." Ray blurted out, looking away from the scene that had gruesomely fixated the rest of them.
The white washed walls of the dimly illuminated room were splattered with blood, the same blood which painted the frame of the bed whose covers lay in tatters over the body lying in the middle of the floor. The woman's lifeless eyes stared up at them from her partly decomposed face, bone shining through underneath her translucent skin. Her long, blonde hair was streaked with crimson and fell down over her shoulders to her chest, an ugly dagger protuding through her ruby red t-shirt. Skeletal hands lay around her head and only highlighted the scene.
But it was Mikey's whisper of anguish seconds later that finally broke the spell.
"Mama..." He whimpered, his eyes filling with tears as he looked down at the body of the woman who'd cared for him since his first breath.
Then Gerard snapped. He could take the weird disappearance of L.A., he could take the stupid dreams, he could take the creepy walk to what had become a murder scene but he couldn't take this. Taking one look back towards the body he pushed the others aside and ran, he ran like the hounds of hell were on his trail, down the steps and across the corridor, down the sweep of the staircase and out of the huge front doors. Into the cold of the deep night, the rough driveway covered in ash cutting into his bare feet as he ran away, the cries of his band mates only a distant whisper in his ears. He ran till he could run no more and then he collapsed to his knees, his head in her hands as he rocked back and forwards, screaming his curses and his pleads into the dead and silent night.
He had no idea how long he stayed there, he had no idea where he was, all he knew was that his mother was lying dead above the house he had brought his band mates and his little brother to. But there were no sounds to comfort him and no people and no warmth, until from between the two bent and twisted trees in front of him a figure stepped. She glowed with a white clear light, which pulsated and shone from the pale flower grasped between her tiny fingers.
"Mama wants you dead." She whispered to his guilt wrecked form "My Mama wants you dead."