Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Doll House [rewrite]
Welcome to the Doll House
9 reviews[Ferard] Gerard wakes up in an eerie room, no clue where he is or how he got there. A mysterious voice tells him that he is in a doll house, as are all of his friends. With no idea how big the ‘h...
3Exciting
Pain. All that crowded Gerard’s mind as he not-so-pleasantly gained consciousness was how this throbbing-pulsing ache coated every inch of his body; the most being in the back of his head. He groaned low in his throat, his own pathetic voice startling him some as it echoed in his ears. Gerard hadn’t felt this shitty in a while. Not since the drugs and alcohol and hours spent bent over something, throwing his guts up to accompany that day’s hangover.
Those days were long gone though; parts of Gerard’s past that he didn’t exactly regret, because they made him who he was today, but parts that he didn’t ever want to live again. He didn’t remember taking anything – and Gerard had been more than careful in avoiding alcohol because he knew he was an alcoholic, so how he became so pained and overall shitty-feeling was beyond him.
Truthfully, the last thing Gerard remembered was playing a show in…well, the city wasn’t that important. It changed most every day and only mattered when he was home or when he wanted to thank the crowd for coming. And then someone, usually Ray, told him where they were right before the show so he could remember long enough to do so.
Gerard remembered the show; the screaming crowd, packed into every inch of space they could find because their fans were fucking awesome like that. He remembered the bright, flashing lights, and sweating like crazy from moving all across the stage because staying still was just boring. He remembered Frank coming over to him to make-out after scaling Bob’s drums, since the kids seemed to love that; and Gerard remembered going off stage to wait before running back on for a three-song encore like always.
After that , there was just…nothing. Gerard’s mind stopped somewhere during the encore, his head in too much pain to pinpoint the exact moment, and everything else was darkness. Like nothing at all was there to begin with. Nothing but pain.
Groaning again, Gerard managed to get his eyes to open; the lids sticking for a moment, and vision fuzzy until he blinked a few times to clear it. What Gerard was faced with perplexed him. This most definitely wasn’t the venue. Or anything remotely close, actually. Honestly, Gerard couldn’t exactly place where he was.
He was seated at a table, slumped in an uncomfortable chair because his previously unconscious state kept him from having proper posture. Not that he sat straight most of the time anyway. On the table was a variety of china – plates, tea cups, saucers, and a teapot in the center – arranged in personal settings all around.
There were four other chairs at the table as well. Three of the four chairs had dolls seated in them and the last, directly across from Gerard, was empty. To his left was what appeared to be a patchwork, handmade type of doll that, when Gerard reached an unsteady hand out to pick it up, flopped around without having the support of the chair to keep it upright.
Beside the floppy doll was a rather creepy doll that Gerard almost instantly associated with the practice of voodoo. It was similar in appearance to the floppy one, only it had button eyes (well, eye, really, since one was missing) and pins sticking out from its cloth body. The voodoo doll wore a hand-stitched grin that made Gerard involuntarily shiver and move his eyes to his right, where the final doll was seated on a stack of old books so it could ‘see’ over the table.
It was probably the creepiest at the table simply because it was porcelain, and porcelain dolls freaked Gerard out. It had glass blue eyes which stared at the wall opposite it, and had dirty blond hair formed in tight ringlets hanging down all around its head. Gerard frowned at the doll and went back to looking at the empty wooden chair on the other side of the table, which was, for whatever reason, the most troubling of all to him.
“The fuck,” he muttered to himself; voice cracked from having not been used in who knows how long. His mouth was dry and plagued with the stale taste of whatever he last consumed – no doubt coffee – since he hadn’t been able to brush his teeth clean of it.
Still feeling too heavy to move, Gerard took the chance to observe the rest of the room he had found himself in. On a far wall there was a window; bars over the outside to prevent anything from passing through it as though it was a jail. The walls were covered in a fading wall paper with a design Gerard guessed was popular sometime in the eighteenth century. Where it was ripping and falling down, Gerard could just barely make out a pale colored wall beneath. The floor was covered in a standard blue rug; nothing soft and fancy, or special in any particular way. There were a few dark patches, stains that were either neglected or wouldn’t come out that nearly blackened the carpet.
As far as furniture, there wasn’t much beside the table and chairs in the center where he was. There was a bookshelf lined in thick books too worn and covered in dust for Gerard to begin to make out what their context was. Not that he particularly cared, either. The last thing on his mind at the moment was reading.
The only other thing in the room was a framed poster of the band on the wall which made Gerard groan more, because nothing was more obnoxious than overly obsessive fans. Gerard didn’t understand it; why people wanted to sleep with them or why people wanted their dirty belongings or any other strange, unnatural behavior. They – Gerard, Frank, Ray, Bob, and Mikey – were simply five guys who made music together.
Yet some of their fans acted as though they were gods.
When Gerard moved his chair back, deciding he was done with whatever joke he was a part of, he was startled right back down by a sudden voice filling the room. “I see you’re awake at last, Gerard,” it said; tone light and amused. Gerard looked frantically around for the source, more than disturbed by the fact that there was absolutely no one in sight.
“Don’t worry,” the voice continued, too masked for Gerard to decipher a gender or anything, “You can’t see me.” It absolutely sounded amused, making Gerard rather mad. “You don’t need to see me, because you don’t need to know who I am. Not yet, at least. But I assure you; we have met plenty of times before.”
Cocking his head back, Gerard spotted a round speaker in the middle of the ceiling that he recognized from his high school days. That’s where the voice was coming from.
“The fuck’s going on?!” Gerard demanded angrily.
“That’s no way for you to talk to your master,” came the disappointed reply.
Gerard nearly gagged, choking out “Master?!” unbelievingly. He didn’t belong to anyone. He never has, and he most certainly never will.
“Don’t you wonder where you are?” It wasn’t an answer, but before Gerard could say anything else, the voice went on. “You, Gerard, are in my toy; a life-size, handmade, specially crafted, one-of-a-kind, doll house.” The pride behind the words made Gerard nauseous. “Really, you should feel honored to be here. Not too many people are welcome.”
“’Honored’ is far from what I feel right now,” Gerard answered rudely but truthfully. A moment later, a sharp, unexpected shock shot through him, sending Gerard crashing to the floor; hands flying up to his neck where the wave generated.
Instead of his pale, smooth skin, though, Gerard’s fingers collided with a ring of metal locked around his neck that he’d failed to notice earlier. The collar was tight, but no so much that it cut off his ability to breathe. It was just loose enough to wiggle a little – a metal chocker or close fitting necklace, to be more accurate.
“I don’t appreciate rudeness,” he was informed in a far less light voice. This time it was dark and heavy. “You are in my control now, Gerard, and you will play my game by my rules or you’ll pay the consequences.”
Recovering, Gerard grabbed a hold of his chair to help him back up, still feeling the lingering effects of the shock. “What…fuckin’ game?” he asked, swallowing and licking his dry lips over.
“A little game I designed to see just how loyal you truly are to those who care about you,” came his answer a moment later. “See, I think you take for granted those who love and care about you. Unless it’s convenient for you, you couldn’t care less about those who actually love you.”
Confused, Gerard pushed his hair aside and tipped his head back again to look at the speaker. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” There was a faint scoffing noise that Gerard didn’t know if it was real, or just his mind. “I don’t know who you are, but if you just let me go, I’ll forget this happened and tell no one.”
“If you really want to go, you can.” For a moment, Gerard was relieved, relaxing some. But then the voice continued, nearly paralyzing Gerard entirely. “If you don’t want to see your friends again.”
When he could speak, Gerard demanded, “What’d you do with them?!” because no one was allowed to mess with his friends – his family – and get away with it.
“That’s part of the game, Gerard.” A laugh. “Your friends, your bandmates, lie somewhere in my doll house. You must find them and complete a small task to save each one before time runs out.”
“Time?”
“You can’t take your sweet time trying to find everyone.” Gerard’s stomach dropped. “You have two hours, starting the moment you walk out the door, to find each of your friends.”
He didn’t want to, but Gerard asked hesitantly, “And if I don’t?”
“You all suffocate on carbon monoxide.” It was blunt and troubling, but Gerard found a sliver of comfort in the words. At least everyone was still alive. For now. “And if you break any rules, you’ll receive another shock. Each mistake will raise the level. When you reach level five, you’ll basically cook alive.”
Shivering some more, one hand subconsciously coming up to his neck, Gerard inquired, “What are the rules?” so he could spare himself.
“If I told you, what fun would that be?” and the laughter that followed caused Gerard to flinch. It was eerie, disturbing, and even vaguely familiar. Though creepy laughs all sounded the same. They’re creepy.
“Complete each task, follow the rules, and find everyone within two hours, and I’ll let you go. Fail to do so, and you will remain forever inside these walls.” Gerard swallowed hard. “Good luck, Gerard. I hope you’re willing to suffer to save those you claim to love.”
And the voice disappeared, a soft clicking noise echoing throughout the space, and Gerard took a deep breath as he shakily lifted himself to his feet. He was desperate and afraid to step outside the door, but he had to find the others. He needed to make sure that they were okay, and get them out of this twisted nightmare.
Exhaling, Gerard took hold of the handle and turned it until it popped open; chest tightening as he forced himself outside.
A/N -- ...I'm back?
xoxo Tabi
Those days were long gone though; parts of Gerard’s past that he didn’t exactly regret, because they made him who he was today, but parts that he didn’t ever want to live again. He didn’t remember taking anything – and Gerard had been more than careful in avoiding alcohol because he knew he was an alcoholic, so how he became so pained and overall shitty-feeling was beyond him.
Truthfully, the last thing Gerard remembered was playing a show in…well, the city wasn’t that important. It changed most every day and only mattered when he was home or when he wanted to thank the crowd for coming. And then someone, usually Ray, told him where they were right before the show so he could remember long enough to do so.
Gerard remembered the show; the screaming crowd, packed into every inch of space they could find because their fans were fucking awesome like that. He remembered the bright, flashing lights, and sweating like crazy from moving all across the stage because staying still was just boring. He remembered Frank coming over to him to make-out after scaling Bob’s drums, since the kids seemed to love that; and Gerard remembered going off stage to wait before running back on for a three-song encore like always.
After that , there was just…nothing. Gerard’s mind stopped somewhere during the encore, his head in too much pain to pinpoint the exact moment, and everything else was darkness. Like nothing at all was there to begin with. Nothing but pain.
Groaning again, Gerard managed to get his eyes to open; the lids sticking for a moment, and vision fuzzy until he blinked a few times to clear it. What Gerard was faced with perplexed him. This most definitely wasn’t the venue. Or anything remotely close, actually. Honestly, Gerard couldn’t exactly place where he was.
He was seated at a table, slumped in an uncomfortable chair because his previously unconscious state kept him from having proper posture. Not that he sat straight most of the time anyway. On the table was a variety of china – plates, tea cups, saucers, and a teapot in the center – arranged in personal settings all around.
There were four other chairs at the table as well. Three of the four chairs had dolls seated in them and the last, directly across from Gerard, was empty. To his left was what appeared to be a patchwork, handmade type of doll that, when Gerard reached an unsteady hand out to pick it up, flopped around without having the support of the chair to keep it upright.
Beside the floppy doll was a rather creepy doll that Gerard almost instantly associated with the practice of voodoo. It was similar in appearance to the floppy one, only it had button eyes (well, eye, really, since one was missing) and pins sticking out from its cloth body. The voodoo doll wore a hand-stitched grin that made Gerard involuntarily shiver and move his eyes to his right, where the final doll was seated on a stack of old books so it could ‘see’ over the table.
It was probably the creepiest at the table simply because it was porcelain, and porcelain dolls freaked Gerard out. It had glass blue eyes which stared at the wall opposite it, and had dirty blond hair formed in tight ringlets hanging down all around its head. Gerard frowned at the doll and went back to looking at the empty wooden chair on the other side of the table, which was, for whatever reason, the most troubling of all to him.
“The fuck,” he muttered to himself; voice cracked from having not been used in who knows how long. His mouth was dry and plagued with the stale taste of whatever he last consumed – no doubt coffee – since he hadn’t been able to brush his teeth clean of it.
Still feeling too heavy to move, Gerard took the chance to observe the rest of the room he had found himself in. On a far wall there was a window; bars over the outside to prevent anything from passing through it as though it was a jail. The walls were covered in a fading wall paper with a design Gerard guessed was popular sometime in the eighteenth century. Where it was ripping and falling down, Gerard could just barely make out a pale colored wall beneath. The floor was covered in a standard blue rug; nothing soft and fancy, or special in any particular way. There were a few dark patches, stains that were either neglected or wouldn’t come out that nearly blackened the carpet.
As far as furniture, there wasn’t much beside the table and chairs in the center where he was. There was a bookshelf lined in thick books too worn and covered in dust for Gerard to begin to make out what their context was. Not that he particularly cared, either. The last thing on his mind at the moment was reading.
The only other thing in the room was a framed poster of the band on the wall which made Gerard groan more, because nothing was more obnoxious than overly obsessive fans. Gerard didn’t understand it; why people wanted to sleep with them or why people wanted their dirty belongings or any other strange, unnatural behavior. They – Gerard, Frank, Ray, Bob, and Mikey – were simply five guys who made music together.
Yet some of their fans acted as though they were gods.
When Gerard moved his chair back, deciding he was done with whatever joke he was a part of, he was startled right back down by a sudden voice filling the room. “I see you’re awake at last, Gerard,” it said; tone light and amused. Gerard looked frantically around for the source, more than disturbed by the fact that there was absolutely no one in sight.
“Don’t worry,” the voice continued, too masked for Gerard to decipher a gender or anything, “You can’t see me.” It absolutely sounded amused, making Gerard rather mad. “You don’t need to see me, because you don’t need to know who I am. Not yet, at least. But I assure you; we have met plenty of times before.”
Cocking his head back, Gerard spotted a round speaker in the middle of the ceiling that he recognized from his high school days. That’s where the voice was coming from.
“The fuck’s going on?!” Gerard demanded angrily.
“That’s no way for you to talk to your master,” came the disappointed reply.
Gerard nearly gagged, choking out “Master?!” unbelievingly. He didn’t belong to anyone. He never has, and he most certainly never will.
“Don’t you wonder where you are?” It wasn’t an answer, but before Gerard could say anything else, the voice went on. “You, Gerard, are in my toy; a life-size, handmade, specially crafted, one-of-a-kind, doll house.” The pride behind the words made Gerard nauseous. “Really, you should feel honored to be here. Not too many people are welcome.”
“’Honored’ is far from what I feel right now,” Gerard answered rudely but truthfully. A moment later, a sharp, unexpected shock shot through him, sending Gerard crashing to the floor; hands flying up to his neck where the wave generated.
Instead of his pale, smooth skin, though, Gerard’s fingers collided with a ring of metal locked around his neck that he’d failed to notice earlier. The collar was tight, but no so much that it cut off his ability to breathe. It was just loose enough to wiggle a little – a metal chocker or close fitting necklace, to be more accurate.
“I don’t appreciate rudeness,” he was informed in a far less light voice. This time it was dark and heavy. “You are in my control now, Gerard, and you will play my game by my rules or you’ll pay the consequences.”
Recovering, Gerard grabbed a hold of his chair to help him back up, still feeling the lingering effects of the shock. “What…fuckin’ game?” he asked, swallowing and licking his dry lips over.
“A little game I designed to see just how loyal you truly are to those who care about you,” came his answer a moment later. “See, I think you take for granted those who love and care about you. Unless it’s convenient for you, you couldn’t care less about those who actually love you.”
Confused, Gerard pushed his hair aside and tipped his head back again to look at the speaker. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” There was a faint scoffing noise that Gerard didn’t know if it was real, or just his mind. “I don’t know who you are, but if you just let me go, I’ll forget this happened and tell no one.”
“If you really want to go, you can.” For a moment, Gerard was relieved, relaxing some. But then the voice continued, nearly paralyzing Gerard entirely. “If you don’t want to see your friends again.”
When he could speak, Gerard demanded, “What’d you do with them?!” because no one was allowed to mess with his friends – his family – and get away with it.
“That’s part of the game, Gerard.” A laugh. “Your friends, your bandmates, lie somewhere in my doll house. You must find them and complete a small task to save each one before time runs out.”
“Time?”
“You can’t take your sweet time trying to find everyone.” Gerard’s stomach dropped. “You have two hours, starting the moment you walk out the door, to find each of your friends.”
He didn’t want to, but Gerard asked hesitantly, “And if I don’t?”
“You all suffocate on carbon monoxide.” It was blunt and troubling, but Gerard found a sliver of comfort in the words. At least everyone was still alive. For now. “And if you break any rules, you’ll receive another shock. Each mistake will raise the level. When you reach level five, you’ll basically cook alive.”
Shivering some more, one hand subconsciously coming up to his neck, Gerard inquired, “What are the rules?” so he could spare himself.
“If I told you, what fun would that be?” and the laughter that followed caused Gerard to flinch. It was eerie, disturbing, and even vaguely familiar. Though creepy laughs all sounded the same. They’re creepy.
“Complete each task, follow the rules, and find everyone within two hours, and I’ll let you go. Fail to do so, and you will remain forever inside these walls.” Gerard swallowed hard. “Good luck, Gerard. I hope you’re willing to suffer to save those you claim to love.”
And the voice disappeared, a soft clicking noise echoing throughout the space, and Gerard took a deep breath as he shakily lifted himself to his feet. He was desperate and afraid to step outside the door, but he had to find the others. He needed to make sure that they were okay, and get them out of this twisted nightmare.
Exhaling, Gerard took hold of the handle and turned it until it popped open; chest tightening as he forced himself outside.
A/N -- ...I'm back?
xoxo Tabi
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