Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Gunshot Glitter
I long for you, I beg for you,
Swell to the tune of an unheard magnitude.
Once did I bathe in your glistening tide,
And then flow within the path in which your gentle hands guide.
What poetry did seep from your lips,
To taste the words that now slide into your eclipse.
As if into a coma you had fallen,
A black current to swallow everything you never would have forgotten.
And though you lie awake now, within your ponderous stare,
Not a diamond does show when your eyes do fall here.
Oh what malice might it truly be,
That you do not remember me…
Frank's P.O.V.
I felt the burst of stale wind tuck beneath my hair as I shoved through the revolving glass doors of my work place, a confident grin plastered on my face as I confidently approached the front desk. Yesterday I might how cowered away in the safety of my retched, alcohol stained room, refusing to allow consciousness and common since to bring me back to these confidential offices, but today was entirely different. I had allowed Gerard to manipulatively engross in the contents of my might, engorge into the wellness of my conscience and sever it to mere shards and frantic desperation, but in doing so I was only letting him defeat me. It’s almost sickening to know that it took me an entire week to figure that out, that he was only sharpening the edges of my weakening mind so that I would become my own weapon, sabotaging everything I had worked so eagerly to contain. Surely he was chuckling in his pathetic cement cage now, grinning at the very mental image of my prying my brain apart in feeble attempts to clear his words from me mind, and it was not a far fetched idea that he probably assumed I was dead. Well that certainly would have been one of his easier success stories, but unfortunately for him, I wasn’t about to go down that easily.
When and if he destroyed me he would have to fall to terminating me himself, because in no way was I about to be another suicide victim of his. So long I have thought of myself as weak and voodoo like, a mere toy for everyone to tinker and prod at, however these past few days have proven me other wise. Perhaps at first it certainly did seem that way with how I was allowing his words to disintegrate e my brain, but then I realized that he was in fact doing nothing to me at all. In fact, he wasn’t even placing morbid disturbing thoughts in my brain that he had created himself, no, all he was doing was digging into my psyche and making images of the past float to the surface. It’s not like he knows exactly what I had seen caked in the corner of my room, he hadn’t witnessed the blood bath of vengeance that I had, all he even had on me was knowledge, I was the one who tortured myself with the brutal scene. I was the one who remembered my parents brutal words toward my brothers, this entire situation was derived from my brain, and that bit of knowledge let me onto something immense. I had control of the situation.
I smirked in remembrance of my resilience and power as I approached the messy, unorganized desk of my fellow colleague and boss. Numerous pictures of offenders and their victims plagued the counter’s surface, swimming and mingling with the life stories and bits of meaningless information of the crimes they had committed. A plethora of thumbtacks paraded of the surface of the pictures, engaging of a war of their own as they attempted to fight the bosses attempts at recollecting them, jabbing his stubby fingers with their miniature swords. I chuckled as he tried to rake them into the drawer of his station, glaring at them as if they were convicted felons as well. I tossed my paperwork beside his platinum engraved nametag which read “Mr. Alvarez”. He peered up at me as he swept the last of the thumbtacks into the drawer before ramming it shut in triumph.
“Mr. Iero, it’s nice to see you back up and on your feet. Parker said you were really out of it, couldn’t even budge in your own bed from the enormous amount of pain due to the flu. I’d welcome you back with a handshake but I honestly don’t trust that you are rid of the virus yet,” he chortled hoarsely, a sincere grin dousing his sun tinted cheeks. For some reason this man has always viewed me in a sort of heroic way, never have I been exactly sure why but he never fails to complement me on the dexterity of my work. It’s as if he more so wants to impress me with his appraisals and loyalty as if I were the one who was the boss in the situation. A gentle smile crept across my face as I hugged my black poofy jacket closer to my body.
“It’s nice to be back, sir. You know I hate being away from my work. I guess you could say nerves might have made it easier for me to get sick last week. What with the case I’m now handling in all,” I commented, cracking my knuckles as they curved around the silky interior of my jacket. His eyebrows arched at the comment, a sudden look of concern striking his face as he observed me intently. The sleeves of his white collar shirt directed his arms to rest on the table before him as he leaned a bit closer to me, as if he were a child leaning in to hear the most terrifying twist in a stories plot.
“How are things going with that, by the way? You know that you have the right to back out at any moment; we both know what Mr. Way has the ability to do,” he mumbled fearfully, seeming to shudder at the very memory of the mangled corpses of the five agents whom had tried to work with him prior to my attempt. I pursed my lips thoughtfully, chewing on my icy silver lip ring as my eyes scanned the craters of fear in his dilated pupils. Sometimes I even wonder how they managed to get a man of Gerard’s brutality into this place, it surely could not have been anyone whom worked here, for they all have a intense fear of the man. Honestly, I can’t say I blame them though, anyone who didn’t feel at least a spark of adrenaline when his name was mentioned surely had to have problems.
“I’d say all is going well so far, he hasn’t tried anything too terribly daring yet, not that I would put it past him. I’d rather not back out at this point, I mean I don’t want to make the same mistake the other five agents made, but still, I can’t just let go of this situation this early on. Doing so would only give him another ounce in his belief that he has control over us,” replied, switching to rest my weight on my right foot as my converse coated left foot tapped the marble tiled floors anxiously. No, I wasn’t anxious with fear knowing that I would talk to Gerard shortly, in fact I was anxious because I actually sort of [i]wantedi] to talk to him at the moment. Anxious to simply be able to slip into his cell once again and sardonically flail my existence before him, letting him know he had failed.
“I suppose I understand that… just please be careful, Iero, I don’t want to risk losing a colleague of your status, you’ve truly got something going for you, kid” he assured warmly, letting another worried smile stitch across his lips. I nodded, pulling my Misfits fountain pen from my pocket and flipping open the tattered purple notebook on the desk, carefully etching my initials in the sign in spot. Not surprisingly there were fewer names on the sign in sheet than usual, which always seemed to be quite typical whenever a agent was working with Gerard. I suppose everyone feared the slight possibility that they themselves might be the one find the mutilated corpse of the agent sprawled out on the floor. I slipped my pen back into my pocket, flipping the note book closed as I stepped back from the sloppy desk.
“Stay safe, kid, see you in a few hours,” he called as I made my way to the securely locked door ahead which concealed some of the worlds most dangerous convicts and murderers. My hand flailed behind me, signaling a goodbye toward him as I punched my pin number into the number pad on the door. I pushed the door open, once again entering the stuffy hall in which in my last encounter I had went fleeing down.
My fingers glided across the musty, dirt tinted cement wall as my fingertips dipped into the canyons between the slabs of concrete, sending tiny flecks of dust propelling to the floor as they went. Unlike my last journey toward the cell, a sloppy assortment of manifested nerves did not jumble through my arteries, clogging my brain in bitter anticipation and resentment. A plague of rumored thoughts did not imbed themselves into my psyche, burning tiny holes in my conscience and well being as they had last time. However, anticipation did crash through my veins, tingling in my fingertips, but not in the negative, unknowing way it had before, for this time I was anticipating seeing him because it seemed to feel like a [/need.
God, how I wanted to cockily flaunt my presence before him, dangle it in his face simply to mock his vicious little plans, for an overwhelming since of pride had overcome me, knowing what I had achieved. Every that I am still alive, every small moment that rivets by me is an enticing accomplishment, and even if he did eventually kill me I would go down laughing. Because as I said before, the only way he is defeating me is if he brings it upon me with his own hands and if this were the case, even if I did die, I still would have won. Mercilessly won the appealing battle between his need of control and my ability to withstand his tactics.
A grin swelled across my lips as I wrapped my fingers around the icy, tense handle of his prison. With an effortless tug, the door swung open and I allowed my body to swell inside his cramped chamber of persuasion.
“Ah, welcome back, my lovely Frank. You’re unique presence is one I’ve greatly missed. Never did I doubt your return for one moment, young Franklin, you shall flow into your future form well,” his all to alluring voice purred, coating my ear drums in the sweet rhythms. His swirling, starlight hazel eyes scavenged my face attentively, as he flicked a strand of raven hair away from them, taking a step closer to my dumbfounded form. The words he had spoke still swelled in my brain, struggling to become composed in a legible stature. Had I not fully understood his intent in my last visit, had he truly not expected me to unravel and burst into threads just as the others had? As my mind tripped and stumbled over his words he crept closer to me, closing the majority of the distance between us.
His intoxicatingly sweet breath snaked across my cheeks as his whirlwind emerald eyes bore into my own, but not at all in a vicious matter, in fact the slight icy glaze settling on them was entirely unreadable to my disoriented mind.
“He’d be so proud, dear Frankie” he whispered reassuringly and with that everything was swallowed by darkness.
_____________________________
Holy crap O_O
Did Gerard just knock Frankie out or did he faint?
What's going to happen to Frank?
What did he mean when he said "He would be proud"?
Why did Gerard not expect him to be dead already?
and what does he mean when he says that Frank will fall into his "future form" well?
I am officially ready to kick this story back into update mode, I just realized how much I really enjoy writing this story and how much I like the plot. So definitely expect this story to become very active again. I am going to work on getting out another update tonight.
The lyrics at the top bit were written by me to match the story since the damn lyrics page wouldn't load .
Comments letting me know what you think is happening and what you think in general would be great, they always make me smile so much [:
Swell to the tune of an unheard magnitude.
Once did I bathe in your glistening tide,
And then flow within the path in which your gentle hands guide.
What poetry did seep from your lips,
To taste the words that now slide into your eclipse.
As if into a coma you had fallen,
A black current to swallow everything you never would have forgotten.
And though you lie awake now, within your ponderous stare,
Not a diamond does show when your eyes do fall here.
Oh what malice might it truly be,
That you do not remember me…
Frank's P.O.V.
I felt the burst of stale wind tuck beneath my hair as I shoved through the revolving glass doors of my work place, a confident grin plastered on my face as I confidently approached the front desk. Yesterday I might how cowered away in the safety of my retched, alcohol stained room, refusing to allow consciousness and common since to bring me back to these confidential offices, but today was entirely different. I had allowed Gerard to manipulatively engross in the contents of my might, engorge into the wellness of my conscience and sever it to mere shards and frantic desperation, but in doing so I was only letting him defeat me. It’s almost sickening to know that it took me an entire week to figure that out, that he was only sharpening the edges of my weakening mind so that I would become my own weapon, sabotaging everything I had worked so eagerly to contain. Surely he was chuckling in his pathetic cement cage now, grinning at the very mental image of my prying my brain apart in feeble attempts to clear his words from me mind, and it was not a far fetched idea that he probably assumed I was dead. Well that certainly would have been one of his easier success stories, but unfortunately for him, I wasn’t about to go down that easily.
When and if he destroyed me he would have to fall to terminating me himself, because in no way was I about to be another suicide victim of his. So long I have thought of myself as weak and voodoo like, a mere toy for everyone to tinker and prod at, however these past few days have proven me other wise. Perhaps at first it certainly did seem that way with how I was allowing his words to disintegrate e my brain, but then I realized that he was in fact doing nothing to me at all. In fact, he wasn’t even placing morbid disturbing thoughts in my brain that he had created himself, no, all he was doing was digging into my psyche and making images of the past float to the surface. It’s not like he knows exactly what I had seen caked in the corner of my room, he hadn’t witnessed the blood bath of vengeance that I had, all he even had on me was knowledge, I was the one who tortured myself with the brutal scene. I was the one who remembered my parents brutal words toward my brothers, this entire situation was derived from my brain, and that bit of knowledge let me onto something immense. I had control of the situation.
I smirked in remembrance of my resilience and power as I approached the messy, unorganized desk of my fellow colleague and boss. Numerous pictures of offenders and their victims plagued the counter’s surface, swimming and mingling with the life stories and bits of meaningless information of the crimes they had committed. A plethora of thumbtacks paraded of the surface of the pictures, engaging of a war of their own as they attempted to fight the bosses attempts at recollecting them, jabbing his stubby fingers with their miniature swords. I chuckled as he tried to rake them into the drawer of his station, glaring at them as if they were convicted felons as well. I tossed my paperwork beside his platinum engraved nametag which read “Mr. Alvarez”. He peered up at me as he swept the last of the thumbtacks into the drawer before ramming it shut in triumph.
“Mr. Iero, it’s nice to see you back up and on your feet. Parker said you were really out of it, couldn’t even budge in your own bed from the enormous amount of pain due to the flu. I’d welcome you back with a handshake but I honestly don’t trust that you are rid of the virus yet,” he chortled hoarsely, a sincere grin dousing his sun tinted cheeks. For some reason this man has always viewed me in a sort of heroic way, never have I been exactly sure why but he never fails to complement me on the dexterity of my work. It’s as if he more so wants to impress me with his appraisals and loyalty as if I were the one who was the boss in the situation. A gentle smile crept across my face as I hugged my black poofy jacket closer to my body.
“It’s nice to be back, sir. You know I hate being away from my work. I guess you could say nerves might have made it easier for me to get sick last week. What with the case I’m now handling in all,” I commented, cracking my knuckles as they curved around the silky interior of my jacket. His eyebrows arched at the comment, a sudden look of concern striking his face as he observed me intently. The sleeves of his white collar shirt directed his arms to rest on the table before him as he leaned a bit closer to me, as if he were a child leaning in to hear the most terrifying twist in a stories plot.
“How are things going with that, by the way? You know that you have the right to back out at any moment; we both know what Mr. Way has the ability to do,” he mumbled fearfully, seeming to shudder at the very memory of the mangled corpses of the five agents whom had tried to work with him prior to my attempt. I pursed my lips thoughtfully, chewing on my icy silver lip ring as my eyes scanned the craters of fear in his dilated pupils. Sometimes I even wonder how they managed to get a man of Gerard’s brutality into this place, it surely could not have been anyone whom worked here, for they all have a intense fear of the man. Honestly, I can’t say I blame them though, anyone who didn’t feel at least a spark of adrenaline when his name was mentioned surely had to have problems.
“I’d say all is going well so far, he hasn’t tried anything too terribly daring yet, not that I would put it past him. I’d rather not back out at this point, I mean I don’t want to make the same mistake the other five agents made, but still, I can’t just let go of this situation this early on. Doing so would only give him another ounce in his belief that he has control over us,” replied, switching to rest my weight on my right foot as my converse coated left foot tapped the marble tiled floors anxiously. No, I wasn’t anxious with fear knowing that I would talk to Gerard shortly, in fact I was anxious because I actually sort of [i]wantedi] to talk to him at the moment. Anxious to simply be able to slip into his cell once again and sardonically flail my existence before him, letting him know he had failed.
“I suppose I understand that… just please be careful, Iero, I don’t want to risk losing a colleague of your status, you’ve truly got something going for you, kid” he assured warmly, letting another worried smile stitch across his lips. I nodded, pulling my Misfits fountain pen from my pocket and flipping open the tattered purple notebook on the desk, carefully etching my initials in the sign in spot. Not surprisingly there were fewer names on the sign in sheet than usual, which always seemed to be quite typical whenever a agent was working with Gerard. I suppose everyone feared the slight possibility that they themselves might be the one find the mutilated corpse of the agent sprawled out on the floor. I slipped my pen back into my pocket, flipping the note book closed as I stepped back from the sloppy desk.
“Stay safe, kid, see you in a few hours,” he called as I made my way to the securely locked door ahead which concealed some of the worlds most dangerous convicts and murderers. My hand flailed behind me, signaling a goodbye toward him as I punched my pin number into the number pad on the door. I pushed the door open, once again entering the stuffy hall in which in my last encounter I had went fleeing down.
My fingers glided across the musty, dirt tinted cement wall as my fingertips dipped into the canyons between the slabs of concrete, sending tiny flecks of dust propelling to the floor as they went. Unlike my last journey toward the cell, a sloppy assortment of manifested nerves did not jumble through my arteries, clogging my brain in bitter anticipation and resentment. A plague of rumored thoughts did not imbed themselves into my psyche, burning tiny holes in my conscience and well being as they had last time. However, anticipation did crash through my veins, tingling in my fingertips, but not in the negative, unknowing way it had before, for this time I was anticipating seeing him because it seemed to feel like a [/need.
God, how I wanted to cockily flaunt my presence before him, dangle it in his face simply to mock his vicious little plans, for an overwhelming since of pride had overcome me, knowing what I had achieved. Every that I am still alive, every small moment that rivets by me is an enticing accomplishment, and even if he did eventually kill me I would go down laughing. Because as I said before, the only way he is defeating me is if he brings it upon me with his own hands and if this were the case, even if I did die, I still would have won. Mercilessly won the appealing battle between his need of control and my ability to withstand his tactics.
A grin swelled across my lips as I wrapped my fingers around the icy, tense handle of his prison. With an effortless tug, the door swung open and I allowed my body to swell inside his cramped chamber of persuasion.
“Ah, welcome back, my lovely Frank. You’re unique presence is one I’ve greatly missed. Never did I doubt your return for one moment, young Franklin, you shall flow into your future form well,” his all to alluring voice purred, coating my ear drums in the sweet rhythms. His swirling, starlight hazel eyes scavenged my face attentively, as he flicked a strand of raven hair away from them, taking a step closer to my dumbfounded form. The words he had spoke still swelled in my brain, struggling to become composed in a legible stature. Had I not fully understood his intent in my last visit, had he truly not expected me to unravel and burst into threads just as the others had? As my mind tripped and stumbled over his words he crept closer to me, closing the majority of the distance between us.
His intoxicatingly sweet breath snaked across my cheeks as his whirlwind emerald eyes bore into my own, but not at all in a vicious matter, in fact the slight icy glaze settling on them was entirely unreadable to my disoriented mind.
“He’d be so proud, dear Frankie” he whispered reassuringly and with that everything was swallowed by darkness.
_____________________________
Holy crap O_O
Did Gerard just knock Frankie out or did he faint?
What's going to happen to Frank?
What did he mean when he said "He would be proud"?
Why did Gerard not expect him to be dead already?
and what does he mean when he says that Frank will fall into his "future form" well?
I am officially ready to kick this story back into update mode, I just realized how much I really enjoy writing this story and how much I like the plot. So definitely expect this story to become very active again. I am going to work on getting out another update tonight.
The lyrics at the top bit were written by me to match the story since the damn lyrics page wouldn't load .
Comments letting me know what you think is happening and what you think in general would be great, they always make me smile so much [:
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