An angel and his murdereress [mild violence]
Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own, even if I do like this chapter sighs
Gerard and Frank sat next to each other in the corner of the tiny room they'd been moved to. The walls were solid stone and the water that pooled on the rough floor, ran down the walls, dripping on the cold rock. It was freezing down there and the only beam of light that penetrated the gloom came from the barred window in the thick oak door at the opposite end. Gerard shivered in his t-shirt and already soaked jeans as he huddled closer to the guitarist who just sighed and leaned his head against the wall.
"Fuck Gerard," He murmured seconds later "This is messed up."
Gerard didn't speak for a while after that and Frank didn't expect him to, he could read the vocalist by now and he knew how much Mikey's departure was haunting him. In both their hearts they knew they would never see the bassist again and that both of them would be cold in their graves if he ever did return.
When he did finally answer his voice was still at a whisper "Hell, I know." He sighed, raising a hand to brush some of his long matted hair out of his eyes "We're gonna die Frankie." He almost whimpered.
Frank nodded sadly "Yeah," He agreed "But we're gonna die together Gee."
Mikey bit his lip as he pushed his way through the tangle of trees and was faced at last by the sweep of the mansion driveway. Breathing a sigh of relief he took a step onto the pavement and then stopped; like a rabbit caught in the headlights as he got the horrible feeling that he was being watched. Spinning around faster than he'd meant to he scanned the trees around him for the tell tale sign of glowing eyes in the gathering dusk but saw nothing. Shaking his head he figured it must just be his imagination and carried on a little way up the drive until he heard a twig snap behind him. He spun around and gasped as an ice cold hand wrapped its fingers around his skinny neck...
Tiberius sighed as he watched the little girl he's been assigned to protect. He wasn't quite sure what had made Melaina so edgy about her young daughter but lately she'd got worse and worse, making sure someone was watching the ten year old at all times. But as the little girl turned her deep green eyes on the Captain of the guard, eyes that were so like the eyes of the stranger Melaina was set to kill - he couldn't help being slightly afraid of the child. The same child who was sitting on the floor drawing with her legs crossed and her long hair braided back away from her angelically pale face. But it was the drawings that scared him, of death and graves and one man with angel wings - the kind of drawings a child should never know how to draw. He sighed and shook his head as Kaela's gaze went back to her paper, where it stayed for the next half an hour.
When the little girl left the room to find her mother Tiberius nodded to one of the doormen to go with her and instead of leaving immediately as he normally did, bent down to look at the drawing. The one of the 'angel' caught his attention particularly. It was all in black ink and pencil, all but the man's eyes which stared out of the white paper as green as the trees in spring. His face was white and two fangs peeped out over his black lips. The long wings that spread from his shoulder blades were feathered like crows and his hands were raised with them, palms outstretched as he grinned almost cockily from the page. Tiberius bit his lip as he tore the page from the book and stuffed it into the bag at his side, knowing almost instinctively where he had to take it but he didn't see the note at the bottom until it was too late.
Dada, my Mama killed your brother. I hope you take her to Hell like the angels.
Kaela smiled as she returned to the room later to find the page ripped from the book. There was a scribbled note in the corner of the blank page that now adorned her notebook and her smile grew as she read it.
Miss Walker, I'm sorry but I saw the drawing of the angel and I had to show Him, I hope you didn't mind and I have a funny feeling that it's what you wanted to do yourself anyway.
The little girl laughed happily as she read the note, and then sat down and began to draw again, her pen sketching out the rough shape of a coffin as she laughed to herself despite the morbid scene.
Melaina closed her eyes as she felt the blood run down her fingers. It was warm and flowed down her hands like red silk. A vampiric smile flitted across her white face as she plunged her hands into the water of the lake next to the body she had just mutated. She looked up seconds later, her stormy eyes flickering open as she watched the spirit float to join the mist that constantly hovered over the surface of the water and laughed as she thought of the hundreds of others who'd died in the same way.
The little girl had screamed the most, her mother had just cried but her father had been the first to die. He had tried to protect them, told them to run, to shelter in the mansion behind them. But she'd just laughed; power echoing from her voice as trees themselves, then still covered in beautiful spring foliage seemed to shrink back away from her. She'd giggled manically as she had torn him limb from limb and then tossed his lifeless body into the pond before going after the mother and her daughter. Thus had begun the blood stained game of hide and seek which sent two more bodies floating down to the pond. She hadn't felt bad when she had slit the little girl's throat, despite the child growing in her own womb. She never felt bad because she craved their blood, craved the feeling as it flowed down her fingers. And as she'd stood in the blood stained hall of the mansion that was already emitting dark like a disease she threw her head back and laughed.
Nothing would stop her now.