Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Two Days.
Two Days.
Two Days. He usually kills them after two days. Or he did, before he went to prison. Now she has two days to make a killer change his mind.
?Blocked
The stink or urine and fecal matter greeted Gerard Way as he walked down the prison tunnel, under the thick concrete foundations of the institute. He pushed a cart of dirty laundry along the slope of the underground lot, looking down into the contents of the cart; prison whites, some of them flecked with blood, some soaked with the crimson red perfection. Dried and flaking at some parts, it made Gerard grin to himself. All of the murder and mayhem, happening all around him. It was enough to almost warm his cold, black heart.
He whistled a little as he picked up the pace, barreling the cart, propelling his tired, skinny body forwards in the darkness. He’d saved up the food they had given him, and paid the warden to leave the door unlock for exactly thirty minutes. His time was almost up, he judged as he pounded his feet harder across the hard floor. The darkness, square-shaped and perfect, stood out at the open door. His freedom.
Warden Samuels gave him a slight grin, ‘’See you on the outside, baby.’’ He gruffly spoke, pulling Gerard to him and mashing his lips across Gerard’s. His beard scraped across Gerard’s dry skin, and he inwardly cringed.
‘’A month from today, Samuels.’’ Gerard promised, thinking of how his skin would crawl after Samuels had taken the money, and whatever else he could reap from Gerard.
‘’A month.’’ Samuels promised, and Gerard took a swing at the warden, his fist connecting with his jaw. They had planned this, to make it look as if Gerard had over-powered Samuels during his trip to the laundry room – but to be honest, Gerard enjoyed the punch. He loved seeing Samuels in pain, because the warden was a sick fuck. Maybe even sicker than big bad Gerard Way, who had murdered two women after kidnapping them. Leaving their bodies to rot in children’s playgrounds during the winter. It wasn’t until summer that the kids of Belleville, New Jersey, had discovered that they had new friends to play with.
Friends with maggots for eyes, and rotted sludge for organs. Gerard had enjoyed watching the events unfold, sitting on the other side of the park with his brother, Mikey’s kid, playing with some other brats a few meters away - just for an excuse.
The cops had found him, though. He had slipped up on his third kill.
He thought of the moment when they had pushed him to the floor, the carpet burning his skin as they forced his body across the cheap motel room. It felt like they were about to fuck him into it, securing the handcuffs as he growled at the force. He should’ve been the one forcing them to the ground, jamming his knife into their ribs as he moaned with delight as their blood covered his pale, sickly skin.
He’d been so wrapped up in those memories; he’d realized that he had to move. He ripped the keys from Samuel’s belt, kicking him the ribs for good measure, then taking off, once again propelling himself forwards, towards the parking lot where the police cruisers were lined up like soldiers – but they were on the other side of the chain-link fence, topped with barbed wire. He grabbed a hold of the chain links, smelling the metal – strong and pungent, stinging his nostrils as he climbed higher and higher, his fingers aching as they gripped the fence.
He reached the top, bending his torso over the barbed wire, stepping on the barbs as he tried to bypass the barbs – but they still managed to rip into the prison whites, and prick through the thin standard shoes. He groaned as the barbs ripped into his trouser legs, cutting his legs. He finally wrestled himself over, jamming his feet firmly into the other side of the fence, and quickly climbing downwards, tumbling down to the dusty, sun-baked mud of the other side. He let out another groan as the pain hit, and then he pushed himself upwards, forcing his tired body to move.
Samuel’s police cruiser was parked in the last lot of the bay. Gerard remembered his slimy tone as he buckled his trousers, right before he left Gerard’s cell – left Gerard crumpled to the floor, his cold hazel eyes coveting the corner of the cell.
‘’You’re next, fucker.’’ He spat under his breath, directing the promise towards Samuels. He started the car and hunching over the steering wheel, his expression intent as he drove, turning on the police radio, listening to their squawking commands – listening for his own name. It didn’t come, not until he’d steered the car out into the highway. He heard them reporting him missing, detailing what he had done, how he had assaulted Samuels. He preferred the term revenge, but he wasn’t about to radio in and tell them that.
He followed a turnpike, heading towards Baltimore. He had to turn off, stopping at a secluded spot, up behind another car. A family hatchback with seven seats and a pea-green paint job. He wrinkled his nose at the shape – thinking of how it looked like a hunk of metal sat on top of four wheels. ‘An ugly hunk of shit’, he thought.
He got out of the cruiser, walking up to the front driver side window, looking into the car. He could see a driver, his head pressed back into the seat as a blonde head bobbed in front of his crotch. Gerard laughed manically, causing the other man to turn, his eyes wide. He pushed the blonde back, rolling down the window; ‘’what the fuck’re you lookin’ at?’’ his voice demanded. He opened the car door, swinging his body out. The blonde also got out, her wrinkle-ridden face twisted with anger,
‘’Yeah, you little scrawny shit!’’ her high-pitched voice wailed. Gerard judged her to be a hooker by the way she was dressed; a short, spangly dress that barely covered her thighs and ass. She looked like she was drug-addled and disease-ridden to him.
‘’I’m a police officer, called out to investigate a murder nearby. Got called right outta my bed, hence the clothes. Get down on your knees, the both of you.’’ He spat,
‘’What if we don’t?’’ the man asked, and Gerard backed to the cruiser, opening the driver’s side door, reaching in and taking the pistol that was jammed into the glove box, out.
‘’Then you’ll get a fuckin’ bullet in your head.’’ He once again walked to the pair, who were looking at each other, reluctantly sinking to their knees. ‘’Hands behind your head.’’ Gerard smirked as they did what he told them to with fear in their eyes, now, replacing the anger that had once dominated their features. ‘’Are you a hooker?’’ he asked the woman.
‘’What does that have to do with it?’’ she snapped.
‘’Everything. Tell me.’’ Gerard still held the gun, ‘’I don’t have all night.’’ He sighed, after there was an interval of silence.
‘’Okay! I am – but this ain’t nothing illegal. I know Steve! I know ‘im!’’ she bleated in that annoying tone, making Gerard cringe, this time outwardly. He pulled back the hammer, and shot the whore, causing the man, ‘Steve’ – to scream, stumbling from his kneeling position, holding up his hands.
‘’I’m sorry!’’ he yelled, his eyes filling with tears – then spilling over his rounded cheeks.
‘’I don’t care.’’ Gerard pulled the trigger, not hesitating as he ended the man’s life.
He whistled a little as he picked up the pace, barreling the cart, propelling his tired, skinny body forwards in the darkness. He’d saved up the food they had given him, and paid the warden to leave the door unlock for exactly thirty minutes. His time was almost up, he judged as he pounded his feet harder across the hard floor. The darkness, square-shaped and perfect, stood out at the open door. His freedom.
Warden Samuels gave him a slight grin, ‘’See you on the outside, baby.’’ He gruffly spoke, pulling Gerard to him and mashing his lips across Gerard’s. His beard scraped across Gerard’s dry skin, and he inwardly cringed.
‘’A month from today, Samuels.’’ Gerard promised, thinking of how his skin would crawl after Samuels had taken the money, and whatever else he could reap from Gerard.
‘’A month.’’ Samuels promised, and Gerard took a swing at the warden, his fist connecting with his jaw. They had planned this, to make it look as if Gerard had over-powered Samuels during his trip to the laundry room – but to be honest, Gerard enjoyed the punch. He loved seeing Samuels in pain, because the warden was a sick fuck. Maybe even sicker than big bad Gerard Way, who had murdered two women after kidnapping them. Leaving their bodies to rot in children’s playgrounds during the winter. It wasn’t until summer that the kids of Belleville, New Jersey, had discovered that they had new friends to play with.
Friends with maggots for eyes, and rotted sludge for organs. Gerard had enjoyed watching the events unfold, sitting on the other side of the park with his brother, Mikey’s kid, playing with some other brats a few meters away - just for an excuse.
The cops had found him, though. He had slipped up on his third kill.
He thought of the moment when they had pushed him to the floor, the carpet burning his skin as they forced his body across the cheap motel room. It felt like they were about to fuck him into it, securing the handcuffs as he growled at the force. He should’ve been the one forcing them to the ground, jamming his knife into their ribs as he moaned with delight as their blood covered his pale, sickly skin.
He’d been so wrapped up in those memories; he’d realized that he had to move. He ripped the keys from Samuel’s belt, kicking him the ribs for good measure, then taking off, once again propelling himself forwards, towards the parking lot where the police cruisers were lined up like soldiers – but they were on the other side of the chain-link fence, topped with barbed wire. He grabbed a hold of the chain links, smelling the metal – strong and pungent, stinging his nostrils as he climbed higher and higher, his fingers aching as they gripped the fence.
He reached the top, bending his torso over the barbed wire, stepping on the barbs as he tried to bypass the barbs – but they still managed to rip into the prison whites, and prick through the thin standard shoes. He groaned as the barbs ripped into his trouser legs, cutting his legs. He finally wrestled himself over, jamming his feet firmly into the other side of the fence, and quickly climbing downwards, tumbling down to the dusty, sun-baked mud of the other side. He let out another groan as the pain hit, and then he pushed himself upwards, forcing his tired body to move.
Samuel’s police cruiser was parked in the last lot of the bay. Gerard remembered his slimy tone as he buckled his trousers, right before he left Gerard’s cell – left Gerard crumpled to the floor, his cold hazel eyes coveting the corner of the cell.
‘’You’re next, fucker.’’ He spat under his breath, directing the promise towards Samuels. He started the car and hunching over the steering wheel, his expression intent as he drove, turning on the police radio, listening to their squawking commands – listening for his own name. It didn’t come, not until he’d steered the car out into the highway. He heard them reporting him missing, detailing what he had done, how he had assaulted Samuels. He preferred the term revenge, but he wasn’t about to radio in and tell them that.
He followed a turnpike, heading towards Baltimore. He had to turn off, stopping at a secluded spot, up behind another car. A family hatchback with seven seats and a pea-green paint job. He wrinkled his nose at the shape – thinking of how it looked like a hunk of metal sat on top of four wheels. ‘An ugly hunk of shit’, he thought.
He got out of the cruiser, walking up to the front driver side window, looking into the car. He could see a driver, his head pressed back into the seat as a blonde head bobbed in front of his crotch. Gerard laughed manically, causing the other man to turn, his eyes wide. He pushed the blonde back, rolling down the window; ‘’what the fuck’re you lookin’ at?’’ his voice demanded. He opened the car door, swinging his body out. The blonde also got out, her wrinkle-ridden face twisted with anger,
‘’Yeah, you little scrawny shit!’’ her high-pitched voice wailed. Gerard judged her to be a hooker by the way she was dressed; a short, spangly dress that barely covered her thighs and ass. She looked like she was drug-addled and disease-ridden to him.
‘’I’m a police officer, called out to investigate a murder nearby. Got called right outta my bed, hence the clothes. Get down on your knees, the both of you.’’ He spat,
‘’What if we don’t?’’ the man asked, and Gerard backed to the cruiser, opening the driver’s side door, reaching in and taking the pistol that was jammed into the glove box, out.
‘’Then you’ll get a fuckin’ bullet in your head.’’ He once again walked to the pair, who were looking at each other, reluctantly sinking to their knees. ‘’Hands behind your head.’’ Gerard smirked as they did what he told them to with fear in their eyes, now, replacing the anger that had once dominated their features. ‘’Are you a hooker?’’ he asked the woman.
‘’What does that have to do with it?’’ she snapped.
‘’Everything. Tell me.’’ Gerard still held the gun, ‘’I don’t have all night.’’ He sighed, after there was an interval of silence.
‘’Okay! I am – but this ain’t nothing illegal. I know Steve! I know ‘im!’’ she bleated in that annoying tone, making Gerard cringe, this time outwardly. He pulled back the hammer, and shot the whore, causing the man, ‘Steve’ – to scream, stumbling from his kneeling position, holding up his hands.
‘’I’m sorry!’’ he yelled, his eyes filling with tears – then spilling over his rounded cheeks.
‘’I don’t care.’’ Gerard pulled the trigger, not hesitating as he ended the man’s life.
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