FicWad

the dead can't testify. 


(And I have no clue what so ever what a corpse that dead would look like, nor do I ever want to know, this is just purely my imagination. Isn't my imagination lovely? Ha.)

Frank stared out the frost-fogged window. He sat there, folded in on himself in his favorite abused leather arm chair. Spots where peeling apart, stuffing was spilling out from spaces, and there were slashes from the kiss of his blade when he had once been bored.  He watched as people on the outside went about their daily business. Unknowing and uncaring to his problems. He whipped his head and stared at the queen bed in the middle of the room. 
Gerard was decaying. 
Frank had never thought of that. This wasn't supposed to happen! Gerard wasn't supposed to leave him! Ever. 
The skin on Gerard's face was a dry brown, a far cry from his once pale ode to vampyreness, and it was cracked like a desert. His eyelids craving in along with a patch his nose And his ear pealing at the base. He looked like a mummy.
Frank enclosed the morbid, skeletal hands and drew light patterns in the silken sheets, together. 
"I miss your drawings." he whispered in Gerard's ear.
Frank traced designs up what was left of Gerard's arm. He was just so darn thin! 
As Frank wrapped his fingers around a tuff of Gerard's raven locks, that have long since lost their shine and luster. As he wove his digits, he felt a clump of it pull out.
He pulled his hand back and examined the hair, the way it no longer held any sheen. 
Frank put it in the bedside table drawer, for safe keeping. Frank clutched Gerard's lizard-skin, limp hand in his. Holding on for dear life, afraid of what would happen if he did, afraid that he might be more than just physically letting go.
As he held on, he felt a finger nail pop off. Frank stroked the Milky blueness of it, savoring  the odd texture of it. He fingered it greedily for a few more minutes before sneakily sliding it as well into the drawer. 
Yes, it would have to be soon. Before things got anymore worse. 
He drug the lifeless Gerard, none to gracefully, out the door, to the dense woods behind the house. Gerard's form jerked with each step it hit. Frank silently wondered why his baby had to be so heavy. 
The shovel clanged as it his the gravel path. 

Frank breathed in the fresh forest air that surround him, and took the time to appreciate  the blinking, star-filled blackness above him. 
The deeper the whole he dug got, the harder it seemed to get, and the more desperately he wanted to give up. But all it took to keep him going was the thought of how all his hard work was for Gerard. 

The couple that had just moved in were almost completely done with the cleaning of their new house, all they had left was the bedroom. The poor old man who had lived there had died all alone and had had no known family. The young woman of twenty-three, who had moved into the cottage in the woods with her slightly-older husband, didn't mind clearing out the house of the old man's belongings, she sympathized him. Plus, since the owner hadn't wanted and didn't have the time to rid of place of it's access stuff, he had sold the place to them cheap. Which was absolutely wonderful since the soon to be family held little money to their name. 
She had all the clothes piled in neat folded stacks to be sent off to Good Will. She smiled satisfied with her good day's work, there wasn't much left now. As she began shoving the drawers back into the dresser, she heard a clink at the back, clearly having hit something. She reached in the very back, finding her hand hit row after row of jars. Some big, some small. 
She pulled them out two by two, not examining them until she was sure she had gotten them all. 
She haphazardly picked one up and found that inside it held what looked to be a finger. And it floated, bobbing up and down in it's preservatives.
She set it back down and moved on to the next, sure that she had imagined it.
In the next was a hazel green eyeball, staring right at her.
She shrieked, horrified, and hurled it at the door. 
There was more and more. There was one of every single body part, the not so obvious ones labeled. 
She back away to the wall behind her, sitting near the corner, where she began to hyperventilate.

Gerard Way's family never knew what happened to him. They had long since given up on the truth. 
And even to us, the true details will never be known.
*
Is this to much?

So I wrote this like a month or so ago.
And a week or two ago, I guess there was some rumor that Gerard died, again. And some chick was like 'Why do guys seem to want to kill off Gerard so bad?' or something to that extent anyway.
And I was like evil grin
Yes, why indeed.