Mikey has a...well interesting dream
Disclaimer: I, in no way own the characters in this chapter but I do own the warpedness that makes it... laughs evilly
Dreamt Them So Vividly
Mikey rolled over with a grunt as the pillow collided hard with the back of his head.
"Come on!" He heard Frank yelled "Get up Michael!"
Mikey groggily opened his eyes and looked up at Frank "You trying to be my mom Frankie?" He asked disbelievingly, Frank was wearing a long pink spotty apron with the words 'All work and no play makes Frankie a dull girl' written across it.
Frank laughed and shook his head "I am your mommy silly!" He exclaimed in a scarily feminine tone.
To say Mikey looked freaked was an understatement but thankfully Frank grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the room before he had time to try and understand what was going on. To add to the confusion his bedroom room melted back into the walls as they left with just the words 'EntrÃ©e' sprawled across it in what looked like Gerard's handwriting to show it had ever been there. Mikey stopped and stared back at it for a second before Frank yanked his hand hard and with a yelp of pain he was pulled down the stairs after his 'mom'.
For some reason what had been the huge and pretty imposing hall had been painted a very vibrant play boy pink, complete with fluffy trimmings around the old wooden dresser and worn oak doors. "You like it?" Frank crooned as they walled through "I decorated it myself." He beamed. Mikey just nodded resisting the urge to gag at the heavy perfume that seemed to have engulfed the house.
As they walked into the living room Mikey started as he heard Pink playing very loudly out of the hi-fi. Frank tutted disapprovingly and marched to the stereo and slammed it off leaving Mikey to stare around the room in shock. Bob was standing in front of a full length mirror at the end of the room and applying an appalling amount of purple eye shadow while singing quite loudly and off tune to what had been Pink. In one corner Ray was slouched to one side, a crayon in his hand as he sprawled some pretty impressive slogans across the walls, his hair was a tip and he had one finger in an overturned pot of Nutella. But out of all of them it was Gerard who was scaring Mikey the most - he was sitting on the sofa playing a very violent looking video and cursing profoundly whenever he died (about half a dozen times since Mikey had entered minutes ago), his long hair had been spiked up into an gel slicked mohican on the top of his head and down his pale arms about a dozen sleazy looking tattoos had already appeared. Mikey couldn't help but feel sick at the stench that was coming off the vocalist but it was the booze and the drugs that it made him remember that was the worst.
He looked around the room appalled by what he saw as he would be band mates all turned to face him one by one. Gerard stood up from the sofa, dropping the console hard to the floor before swaying slightly as he walked over to his little brother and poked him hard in the chest causing Mikey to stagger back a couple of paces.
"Who the fuck are you?" He spat, not sounding like the shy, enigmatic artist that was his older brother.
"Mikey..." He stuttered "Mikey Way."
"You hear that guys?" Gerard slurred, staggering back slightly "Mikey Way." The rest of them seemed to find this incredibly amusing and Gerard's comment was followed by a roar of laugher and more freakily, Bob and Frank's girlish giggles.
"What's so funny?" He challenged them, using his height as a slight advantage over his brother's 5ft 8.
Bob giggled "Aww he's cute, can we keep him Francesca?" Mikey spun around to look at...well Frank he still guessed who just smiled kindly and nodded "Of course Bobsy darling, it was such a shame when the last one died."
Mikey blanched and took a step backwards, scanning the room desperately for anything remotely normal but all he saw were the freaks who were supposed to be his band mates, Ray had just gone back to scribbling over the walls and Mikey felt a twang of pain as he realised this was the last time he would ever see the guitarist again, weird and warped through he was.
Gerard cackled "Yeah the last one was a screamer, the whole of fucking L.A. heard it when his scrawny little neck broke."
Mikey looked at his brother in shock, taking in the evil leer spreading across his normally gentle features. "Not today guys sos..." Mikey muttered and turned around and began to run, only to find he couldn't move.
"Uh-uh," Gerard grinned, shaking his head "Sos Mikey but not this time." The rest of the room's occupants had formed a jeering semi circle around him as Gerard had been talking and Mikey's stomach twisted as he saw the evil that was painting across all of their faces. But he didn't even have time to gulp before Gerard's fist collided hard with the side of his head...
Mikey shot up in bed, a bead of sweat running down the side of his face as he panted away the nightmares. On the carpet next to the curtains Gerard lay, curled up in a tight ball, his black hair tangled over his face. He had probably had another nightmare but hadn't woken the bassist as he came in, he looked so angelic lying there that Mikey couldn't help but feel the dream slip away as quickly as it had come. Breathing a sigh of relief he lay back down and closed his eyes. Only a dream his mind whispered comforting to him, /Only another dream/.
But little did Mikey know that would in no way be the last...