Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Diseased...
The boys were shattered by the time they arrived at the War Museum. Mikey stroked the cold metal trigger of his rifle slowly. The coolness of it soothed him somewhat, steadying his jumpy nerves. The dog incident had him set on edge, his palms sweaty and his legs trembling with each step he took.
Even Frank appeared anxious, his hands gripping the mallet so tight he was white-knuckled and he bit his lip so harshly that little droplets of blood spooled and trickled down his piercing. Gerard sighed with relief as they neared the crumbling old building, shooting a hopeful smile at Ray.
The museum was silent. Barbed wire curled around the minature model tanks that were placed on a small circle of grass. A flagpole stood tall between them a crimson flag with a black skull and the letters A.L.E.I.A painted in black scrawls. Ray frowned and brought the spear; a metal pole which he had filed to a point; closer to his side. Mikey cocked and raised his rifle as Frank denied the impossible and managed to grip his weapon tighter.
Gerard shrugged the dead dog from his shoulders and dropped it to the floor, preparing to run as there was a scuffling noise behind them.
The sound came closer and Gerard ran for the doors and tugged. Locked. He started to panic, praying to God that there weren't any Creepers.
The noise stopped,
"What do you think you're doin'?"
They turned, Mikey aiming his rifle as a girl stepped out, holding a 10mm Submachine gun in her small hands. Her dyed purple hair was flicked from her face as she scrutinised them with dark green eyes. Her hair fell to the small of her back, blue and pink streaks scattered within it.
She was small, smaller than Frank. Her black skinnies were torn and dusty and her Misfits tee faired no better. She tapped her faded pair of Converse impatiently, the Cat in the Hat print shaking violently.
"I'll ask you again; what are you doing here?"
Frank frowned,
"What's it to you?" He wasn't going to let a girl scare him anytime soon but he had the common sense to raise his hands.
"Drop your weapons." The girl ordered.
Reluctantly, they let their weapons drop to the floor. Even Mikey ditched his rifle; no way would his firearm match to hers.
"My name's Izzi. Spelt I-Z-Z-Y. You come with me or I'll blast your fucking brains out, got it?"
They all nodded quickly as two other girls stepped out, one with an AK.47 and the other with a 32. calibur pistol.
"This," Izzi said, pointing. "Is Emily and Amelia. Come quietly and we will have no reason to pump your asses full of lead."
Even Frank appeared anxious, his hands gripping the mallet so tight he was white-knuckled and he bit his lip so harshly that little droplets of blood spooled and trickled down his piercing. Gerard sighed with relief as they neared the crumbling old building, shooting a hopeful smile at Ray.
The museum was silent. Barbed wire curled around the minature model tanks that were placed on a small circle of grass. A flagpole stood tall between them a crimson flag with a black skull and the letters A.L.E.I.A painted in black scrawls. Ray frowned and brought the spear; a metal pole which he had filed to a point; closer to his side. Mikey cocked and raised his rifle as Frank denied the impossible and managed to grip his weapon tighter.
Gerard shrugged the dead dog from his shoulders and dropped it to the floor, preparing to run as there was a scuffling noise behind them.
The sound came closer and Gerard ran for the doors and tugged. Locked. He started to panic, praying to God that there weren't any Creepers.
The noise stopped,
"What do you think you're doin'?"
They turned, Mikey aiming his rifle as a girl stepped out, holding a 10mm Submachine gun in her small hands. Her dyed purple hair was flicked from her face as she scrutinised them with dark green eyes. Her hair fell to the small of her back, blue and pink streaks scattered within it.
She was small, smaller than Frank. Her black skinnies were torn and dusty and her Misfits tee faired no better. She tapped her faded pair of Converse impatiently, the Cat in the Hat print shaking violently.
"I'll ask you again; what are you doing here?"
Frank frowned,
"What's it to you?" He wasn't going to let a girl scare him anytime soon but he had the common sense to raise his hands.
"Drop your weapons." The girl ordered.
Reluctantly, they let their weapons drop to the floor. Even Mikey ditched his rifle; no way would his firearm match to hers.
"My name's Izzi. Spelt I-Z-Z-Y. You come with me or I'll blast your fucking brains out, got it?"
They all nodded quickly as two other girls stepped out, one with an AK.47 and the other with a 32. calibur pistol.
"This," Izzi said, pointing. "Is Emily and Amelia. Come quietly and we will have no reason to pump your asses full of lead."
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