If you can't stand weird, creepy stuff, and death, DO NOT READ. This is one of my dreams that I had last night. Prepare for an unhappy ending.
It was white. Just white. He wished it could be anything but white right then... White just reminded him of hospitals. And hospitals could only mean one thing- death. Hospitals brought death, didn't they? They tried to prevent it, maybe, but in the end, the hospital is the one who holds the dead people. Hospitals don't help people as much as you think. If you have a new virus that they've never seen before they need to run tests to find out what it is so they can figure the whole damn thing out. They were just weird. Hospitals were weird- all white, germ-free. Boring, death-ridden, maybe. He didn't know. Actually, he knew next-to-nothing about himself. He, himself, his pencil, and his notebooks. That was just about him. Throw in a microphone and a little emotion and you get someone as good as Gerard Way.
Kimberly Joanna Owsin. That was what her name was. She didn't know it, but she wasn't alone.
There was this white room. It reminded her of nothing but hospitals- the air was crisp, cold but dry. Clean, white. She didn't belong there.
Her blonde hair was twisted under her hood, her tanned skin hidden under her jeans. 29 years old, widowed. No, not widowed. Soon to be widowed?
Gerard frowned. This woman, this beautiful and emotionally torn woman seemed real again. No, it was happening again. She was alive, somewhere. And he would control her. Her blood wouldn't be smeared on any pavement or ground or floor; her lungs would remain filled with air, not water. She would not die. She would survive... He was sure of it. Absolutely sure.
Or was he?
She cringed as the door opened to reveal another white hallway behind it.
'Kimberly, dear, we were told that you can go now. Do you feel all right?' The man asked, and she nodded. Kimberly had a nice ring to it, didn't it? She guessed it was her title. People would address her as Kimberly now.
Kimberly stood from her crouched position and walked towards the doctor, when the phone rang from another office.
'Excuse me, but I'll have to take that. I'll show you out in a minute.' Kim nodded, her hood falling down to show her blonde, messy but clean hair curling at the ends slightly, her golden eyes gazing about the room. Was it night outside? Yes. It was night outside. She needed him.
Her husband had died. Yes; car crash. Crushed by a semi, sent rolling down a hill. Gerard shivered, looking out the dark window. They had been parked for a while now, in New York City. And he was bored to death, until he began to draw... This woman. No, it wasn't a woman.
'Kimberly, it was just a couple of minutes ago. I'm so sorry.' Kim looked down at her shoes, wiggling her toes inside them.
'Mr. Dean?' She asked, looking up at him shyly.
'Yes, Kim?' He asked, and she shrugged.
'Can I cry?' The doctor, Mr. Dean, looked startled.
'Of course you can, Kimberly.' She looked up at him, tears forming to outline her soft cheeks evantually.
'Can I hug you?' She asked, but before he could finish she fell into his arms. 'I miss him. I miss him already.' She said, her nose pressed against his neck... Smelling the blood, his heartbeat pounding in her ears, begging her to take him.
'Okay, Mr. Heartbeat.' She said, leaning her head back and looking into his confused eyes, then opening her mouth and slamming them into his neck.
Gerard stood up, the papers falling from his lap as he stared down at what he had drawn. This woman- this /thing/- was feeding on this man. She had slammed her teeth into his neck, her teeth glistening in blood when she drew back.
She was human.
The body dropped.
'Mr. Heartbeat, I did what you asked. Are you happy?' But there was no response. 'You're gone. Why did you leave?' The woman stepped back from the blood-drained doctor, eyes almost widening but returning to normal as she shrugged and walked out of the hallway, into the stairwell and finally out of the place.
As she walked on the cold pavement, she passed a sign and ignored it, though it read something important:
Gerard sat back down, looking at his drawings. First one was her crouched in the white room, the second was hugging him, the third biting him, and the fourth walking past a mental institute sign.
He needed to fix this. It was his responsibility, and he had to control his hand to draw the right thing that time.
Kimberly walked down the sidewalk in the city, to trip on something. Of course, the 29 year old clutz was caught by some man.
'Are you okay?' Asked the man, who had a roundish face and black hair, and she smiled.
'Of course. Thank you.' She said bubbily, smiling and walking away from him.
'Gee, I just saw that girl out there.' Frankie said, crossing his arms.
'I know.' Gerard said, continuing to draw when there was a knock at the door. Frankie answered it, looking down at a woman.
'I don't think I'm okay.' She said, smiling and falling forward into Frank.
One man stared, the other held her and closed the door.
'Gee...' Said the man who was holding her. Kimberly smiled up at him, looking into the man who was holding her's eyes.
'I like your eyes...' She said, listening to his heartbeat. It was calm, but picking up the pace very slowly.
Frankie stared down at her.
'I think you should...' Frankie began, but she stood up and looked into his eyes.
'Your heartbeat is asking me to do things I don't wanna do.' Gee looked stunned.
'Get out of here!' Yelled Gerard, trying to get her out of the tour bus. She fought him off and landed on the pavement, on her feet.
'Your blood is calling to me.' She said, but Gerard picked up the papers and threw them out the door.
'Go to hell!' He yelled, slamming the door.
He awoke the next morning, dreams flooding his mind. The woman had been there. She had been. Frankie was equally freaked- that was just weird. Completely weird, and wrong.
He sat up un his bunk, and then stared at the picture sitting on his lap.
It was of a the woman, leaning over him and biting his neck. Instantly Gerard screamed, tore it up and stood from his bunk. Another picture was waiting for him in the kitchen, it was of her picking the lock to the door on the tour bus.
'No!' He yelled, and Mikey grabbed him from behind and shoved him against the wall.
'Gerard! What's wrong?' He yelled, just as the sound of a door creaking open sounded from the front of the bus.
'No! Mikey! She's going to get me!' And with that he fell into a sobbing mess on the floor.
Mikey looked to the front of the bus- sure enough, there was a woman standing there.
'I don't think your heart wants me.' She said quietly, looking at the ground. 'I think I'm going to kill myself now.' She said, walking over to them with a piece of paper in one hand.
'It's what Gerard wants.' She sighed, then straightened, and twisted her neck to the right roughly, making a sickening crack noise.
Dead. On the floor, dead.