Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Gunshot Glitter
The Newest "Plaything"
FRERARD. Gerard Way, a psychologist, a genius, a ravenous serial killer. Frank Iero, a weak, vulnerable and tortured creature, Can Frank be an unlikely match to harness the secret Gerard has hidden...
?Blocked
Frank's P.O.V.
Psychiatry, the word that can be interpreted in thousands of ways and although most who hear the word picture a 38 year old psychologist sitting in their office, grilling you with ridiculous questions that have no actual answers, well that certainly wasn't the interpretation of the word in this scenario. No, there are other forms of the study, and there are the people who hold the powers of controlling these characteristics and manipulating them in ways that make them appear to be naturally born that way. The ones who know how to drill into your head and remove all former intentions you might have had, and suddenly cause all your will to be put into their great escape, rather than caging them in as if they were some sort of repulsive beast.
Yes there were certainly different ways to view the topic, but seeing it from this perspective certainly was never anything I had ever been expecting... and definitely not the characteristics in a person that I expected to have to stand face to face with. They warned me you know, they warned me without really saying a thing, that look they gave me as I approached the door and wrapped my fingers around the icy handle... that searing desire in their eyes that wished to reach out and drag me away from the door. Oh listen to me, I sound like the psychologist now, but that really was what I could see, and it wouldn't take a professional to recognize the fear and anxiety that lie there in their swelling porcelain pupils.
That walk, it was definitely one of the most torturous I've ever been forced to experience, words can't even attempt to deliver to one the fear and anxiousness that corroded my veins as I silently shuffled down the darkened, stuffy hallway. It smelt of mildew and age, the walls were bare grey slabs encrusted in various patterns of bacteria and cob webs, the scuffing of my shoes on the moist pavement was the soundtrack that echoed in my skull. I couldn't imagine what kind of creature lie on the other end of the winding hallway, some kind of vicious beast I'm sure, dressed in dried scarlet blood from dozens of men and women who he had seduced and torn apart. Some kind of morbid creature more vile and demented than any being that ever scoured the trembling earth.
From what they told me, a human was something he simply couldn't be, a human has feelings, compassion, some form of care, whilst they say whatever it is that he may be, well, he has none of that. He's his own species, some kind of cruel and unjust monster who more or less smiled over the mutilated corpses of dozens. From the stories that have managed to slither through the bars of his shrunken cage and have crawled their way out of this very building, they say he is a wicked creature with a mop of matted black hair and eyes of red that scorched deep into anyone's flesh. They say is face his mutilated, thus being the reason he mutilates his victims.
Maybe that's the reason that he said "The beauty in mutilating such a beautiful creature is that if can be brought down to your very own level, you can carve into it's magnificent layer of porcelain skin, directly into the mass of muscles that lie so finely entwined, and shred them down to slivers of nothing. You can take such a lovely and finely chiseled creation and remove from it everything that you envy and covet, and in all of this you can remove it from its status to a level lower than your own. You too can feel just a desirable, without worrying about a single creature towering over you." Whispers of his life that pass through the building tell me he has said that, but I guess one can never be too sure of things that have made their way through such massive crowds of people.
I'll believe it when I hear him say it... because that is why I am here, to talk to the beast that for so many years has been feared and locked away. A creature that not a single person has ever managed to collect the guts to speak to directly without going home a nervous wreck or in many cases... end up being found dead and rotting a few days later. I guess that's what I have to fear more than anything, and knowing what it is he has the power to do, well, it makes me wonder why they chose me for the job.
Were they just running out of options, to terrified and shaken to walk in on him themselves? I mean, I guess I see what they have to fear, but why on earth would they send in a person like me expecting that I somehow have the power to stand up against him? If anything I am probably the most easily effected and persuaded person that I know of... and in this scenario, that scares me more than anything because there is something in this man that is able to burrow deep into ones thoughts... and like he did with many who walked down this hall just I am, he torments their mind to such a raw pulp that he convinces them to kill themselves in the most gruesome of ways. The worse part of the whole equation: they always give in and sway to his commands.
Some of the strongest people I've ever met have allowed their shoes to scrape down across this same long path of pavement, and most of which let him get in their heads, into their tiny and confused psyche where he tore them apart, bit, by bit, by bit. I could never have more fear than that of which that boils and turns in my veins in these very moments as my heavy and nervous breaths swallow and enweave with the surrounding atmosphere. My fingers coil hesitantly around the metal of the solid and strong structure that held the only distance that could ever be measured between me and the most feared being to ever grace the earths surface... on the other side of this door lies the twisted and demented mind of Gerard Way.
"Ah, a new plaything I assume has been sent for me to fumble with, yes? Mmm, they send in finer smelling ones every time I must say, but never one that could ever challenge my thoughts, no they always have send small minded creatures. I'm feeling the vibe however that this time might be somewhat different, what an odd thing, hmm? Well, I knew it might eventually come one day before I rotted in this cell that coils so cold around bare flesh. Come in, Frankie, I know your feeble mind be freezing you skin to a raw white out there in that stuffy, humid hallway, surely what's in hear can bring to you the frostbite you need to wake up and run whilst you have the chance..." a smoothly elegant voice flowed from the other side of the door...a voice that I never in a thousand years wanted ever to have to face. Even worse than the sly and perfectly set voice, the face that must be hiding behind it... the face, and the creature that somehow far beyond my knowledge knew my name...
Psychiatry, the word that can be interpreted in thousands of ways and although most who hear the word picture a 38 year old psychologist sitting in their office, grilling you with ridiculous questions that have no actual answers, well that certainly wasn't the interpretation of the word in this scenario. No, there are other forms of the study, and there are the people who hold the powers of controlling these characteristics and manipulating them in ways that make them appear to be naturally born that way. The ones who know how to drill into your head and remove all former intentions you might have had, and suddenly cause all your will to be put into their great escape, rather than caging them in as if they were some sort of repulsive beast.
Yes there were certainly different ways to view the topic, but seeing it from this perspective certainly was never anything I had ever been expecting... and definitely not the characteristics in a person that I expected to have to stand face to face with. They warned me you know, they warned me without really saying a thing, that look they gave me as I approached the door and wrapped my fingers around the icy handle... that searing desire in their eyes that wished to reach out and drag me away from the door. Oh listen to me, I sound like the psychologist now, but that really was what I could see, and it wouldn't take a professional to recognize the fear and anxiety that lie there in their swelling porcelain pupils.
That walk, it was definitely one of the most torturous I've ever been forced to experience, words can't even attempt to deliver to one the fear and anxiousness that corroded my veins as I silently shuffled down the darkened, stuffy hallway. It smelt of mildew and age, the walls were bare grey slabs encrusted in various patterns of bacteria and cob webs, the scuffing of my shoes on the moist pavement was the soundtrack that echoed in my skull. I couldn't imagine what kind of creature lie on the other end of the winding hallway, some kind of vicious beast I'm sure, dressed in dried scarlet blood from dozens of men and women who he had seduced and torn apart. Some kind of morbid creature more vile and demented than any being that ever scoured the trembling earth.
From what they told me, a human was something he simply couldn't be, a human has feelings, compassion, some form of care, whilst they say whatever it is that he may be, well, he has none of that. He's his own species, some kind of cruel and unjust monster who more or less smiled over the mutilated corpses of dozens. From the stories that have managed to slither through the bars of his shrunken cage and have crawled their way out of this very building, they say he is a wicked creature with a mop of matted black hair and eyes of red that scorched deep into anyone's flesh. They say is face his mutilated, thus being the reason he mutilates his victims.
Maybe that's the reason that he said "The beauty in mutilating such a beautiful creature is that if can be brought down to your very own level, you can carve into it's magnificent layer of porcelain skin, directly into the mass of muscles that lie so finely entwined, and shred them down to slivers of nothing. You can take such a lovely and finely chiseled creation and remove from it everything that you envy and covet, and in all of this you can remove it from its status to a level lower than your own. You too can feel just a desirable, without worrying about a single creature towering over you." Whispers of his life that pass through the building tell me he has said that, but I guess one can never be too sure of things that have made their way through such massive crowds of people.
I'll believe it when I hear him say it... because that is why I am here, to talk to the beast that for so many years has been feared and locked away. A creature that not a single person has ever managed to collect the guts to speak to directly without going home a nervous wreck or in many cases... end up being found dead and rotting a few days later. I guess that's what I have to fear more than anything, and knowing what it is he has the power to do, well, it makes me wonder why they chose me for the job.
Were they just running out of options, to terrified and shaken to walk in on him themselves? I mean, I guess I see what they have to fear, but why on earth would they send in a person like me expecting that I somehow have the power to stand up against him? If anything I am probably the most easily effected and persuaded person that I know of... and in this scenario, that scares me more than anything because there is something in this man that is able to burrow deep into ones thoughts... and like he did with many who walked down this hall just I am, he torments their mind to such a raw pulp that he convinces them to kill themselves in the most gruesome of ways. The worse part of the whole equation: they always give in and sway to his commands.
Some of the strongest people I've ever met have allowed their shoes to scrape down across this same long path of pavement, and most of which let him get in their heads, into their tiny and confused psyche where he tore them apart, bit, by bit, by bit. I could never have more fear than that of which that boils and turns in my veins in these very moments as my heavy and nervous breaths swallow and enweave with the surrounding atmosphere. My fingers coil hesitantly around the metal of the solid and strong structure that held the only distance that could ever be measured between me and the most feared being to ever grace the earths surface... on the other side of this door lies the twisted and demented mind of Gerard Way.
"Ah, a new plaything I assume has been sent for me to fumble with, yes? Mmm, they send in finer smelling ones every time I must say, but never one that could ever challenge my thoughts, no they always have send small minded creatures. I'm feeling the vibe however that this time might be somewhat different, what an odd thing, hmm? Well, I knew it might eventually come one day before I rotted in this cell that coils so cold around bare flesh. Come in, Frankie, I know your feeble mind be freezing you skin to a raw white out there in that stuffy, humid hallway, surely what's in hear can bring to you the frostbite you need to wake up and run whilst you have the chance..." a smoothly elegant voice flowed from the other side of the door...a voice that I never in a thousand years wanted ever to have to face. Even worse than the sly and perfectly set voice, the face that must be hiding behind it... the face, and the creature that somehow far beyond my knowledge knew my name...
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