Title from "Perfect Enemy" - tATu
What the hell does that mean?
Frank woke in a sweat, his dreams filled with creepy images of dark places, blood, and torture mechanisms.
He was in a dimly lit bedroom, sitting on a bed with only jeans on.
“Frank, honey, you alright?” a female voice from beside him asked.
“Oh, uh… yeah. Hey… um, where am I?” Frank questioned, staring at the ceiling and not daring to look at the person lying next to him.
“In bed?” she answered.
“What’s your name?”
“Sarah. Baby, what’s wrong? Are you sick?”
“No… I… just… I dreamed about /Gerard/… or some shit like that.” Frank said.
“Gerard?” Sarah stated, “That’s a name.”
Frank’s mind cleared momentarily and he got up, slipping from the mattress and a minute later the cold feeling of water trickled down his throat.
It wasn’t enough. He was thirsty, thirstier than he’d ever been before in his life, and he kept gulping down water, finally dropping down to lean on the side of the cabinets and clunk his head against them, exasperated.
His throat burned, his lungs ached, and his heart beat way too fast.
The name kept repeating in his head.
Hot, wet, stinging tears pooled over his eyes and he took a shuddering breath. It hurt.
“You’re not supposed to be awake.” A British voice said.
Frank froze, standing.
“Mmm, you’ll really regret this…”
Frank felt hands grip him and a sudden convulsion tore through his body and he yelled.
“Frank?!” Sarah’s voice said from the bedroom.
“Poor boy…” the male voice in his ear hissed, guiding him through the dark, back toward the bedroom. /To Sarah/. “Poor girly too.”
The fingers around his shoulders were cold.
“What do you want?” he whispered.
“To show you how hard it is…”
He was steered into the doorway.
Sarah was sitting up on the bed. She was beautiful; long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and dark eyes confused and staring up at him- them. All she had on was a white cami and navy blue shorts.
“What’s going on, Frank? Who is that?” She asked, her voice high-pitched and inching toward the edge of the bed, eyes wide.
“Look at that…. Pretty little thing. She has no idea. Really. She doesn’t know what you are... No, what you were.” The voice crooned, fingers crawling up to dig into the back of Frank’s neck, “Say goodbye, Sarah. Frankie’s hungry.”
The nails dug harder and Frank felt a sharp pain in his thigh as a needle was jabbed into his side.
He roared, ripping away from whoever was behind him.
But he couldn’t move suddenly, and he fell to his knees. His eyes burned and he covered his face. His back burned and his heart beat ten times faster than it had when it was beating five times too fast.
The door shut and the three were alone in the room, locked in.
“The name’s Riley, by the way. You belong to my brother now. You’re his little plaything… He wanted me to come get you for him…”
Frank hissed and covered his face as the overhead lights came on.
Riley picked him back up and held him by the scruff of the neck pushing him forward toward Sarah, who cowered.
“Look at her neck. All exposed like that, Frankles. You can feel it, can’t you? Years and years without blood. Blood, Frank. You want it. Need it- and you can’t deny that. Look at it pulsing inside her. You’re drained, Frank. And this-” Riley said, holding up the syringe, “- this is a needle full of pathogens that have just been released in your bloodstream. They’re gonna kill the virus we created in you ten years ago, and all the affects of your decade without addiction will come back to you.”
Frank yelled suddenly, chest thrust in the air away from himself and Riley. Pain shot through his veins, and-
-and he can remember a pain this bad.
So bad in his brain, his heart, his everything.
Gerard did it to him.
It’s all Gerard’s fault.
“Yeah, it is. You’re friend did it all to you, Frankie. He’s to blame. He did all of this.” Riley said.
Frank’s jaw was clenched, sweat dripping from his chest and forehead, and his breathing ragged.
Riley shoved him closer, holding him less than a foot away from Sarah’s face.
“Look at that beautiful vein, Frankie-baby.” Riley cooed.
Frank could feel it. He could fucking feel it, pounding in his ears and it drove him fucking mad.
He snapped his jaws and Riley pulled him back an inch, just one inch too far.
“Yeah, you want it.”
Frank tried to shake himself from Riley’s grasp, but Riley was stronger than him.
Not if he got to her neck. He’d be so fucking powerful, he’d kill Riley. He’d kill Sarah, and-fuck- he’d kill Gerard. It was Gerard’s fault. Gerard made him hurt like this, Gerard made him starve like this, and Gerard was to blame for everything.
Sarah’s tears ran down her face, but Frank didn’t care. The glint of a wedding ring adorning her finger flashed in Frank’s eyes, and he winced, but it still didn’t stop himself.
“Go get her, boy… Get her good…” Riley whispered, letting Frank’s go.
Frank’s face inched forward and his teeth were sunk in her neck, down, all the way down.