Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Devil in the devil in me?

And A Butterfly, For Our Everlasting Love

by nerds_assemble 3 reviews

Frank's being pestered by Lucipher...again.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama,Humor - Characters: Frank Iero - Published: 2012-11-26 - Updated: 2012-11-27 - 1092 words

Frank had thought he was going nuts. Maybe it was just aftershock and the pain meds he was on. He didn’t know. But he was certainly not going to tell anyone that he had been talking with the devil, who had been the cause of his death. Well, near-death, I guess would be a more reasonable term.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Is that too cold for you? Here, let me warm it up for you.” Before Frank could register it, his mother had whisked away his plate and shoved it into their microwave.

“Linda, don’t coddle the kid.” Her husband warned and ruffled her son’s hair. Frank was barely registering anything. Contact with another human was just too much. He yelped and backed away from his dad. Like he remembered trying to back away from his death. Both of his parents glanced over their child, not knowing exactly what to do, they looked at him for reassurance. He didn’t offer up anything more than a wince and a blank stare. He didn’t mean for it to be that way. He was looking at something. He could see a butterfly inside the house. A blue one with pink dots. He furrowed his brow.

“Mom, you let a butterfly in?” He questioned as it fluttered towards him. He deeply stared at it’s every move. It danced with his eyes, they moved in unison. He smiled a little and looked over at his mother. “You see it? I think it likes me.”

Both of his parents felt a wave of regret rush over them.

“Frank…there’s not a butterfly in here.” Frank’s face fell.

“What? Of course there is! It’s right there!” He pointed to where the butterfly had previously been, but instead saw the man who shot him. He flinched and clutched his chest. The man held up a match, striking it on the counter. The microwave beeped. Frank let out a whimper and pointed frantically at the man. “Look! Right there! He’s there! Can’t you see him?” He pleaded at his mother. “I’m not crazy, am I, mom? Tell me I’m sane!” The man grinned and put that match on his head. His hair burst into a furious flame. “Oh, god! He’s lighting himself!”

“Who is, son?” Frank’s father tried to reason. Frank tensed up and wide eyed his father.

“Don’t you see him? He shot me!” They both looked nervously at each other, the walls, finding suddenly interesting things on their hardly new clothes. The man flailed about, rolling on their living room carpet, catching it on fire too. “The house is going to burn! Oh, god, oh god…” Frank muttered, stroking his left foot. Suddenly, the flames stopped. Time didn’t, but the flames eased and the man turned to ashes. Frank watched in revulsion as blood seeped through the carpet, forming a message. Frank hesitantly walked over there, his mother putting a hand on her heart.

Frank saw a drawing. A drawing of a person. A person being pulled into a white hospital truck. X’s were on the eyes and the same butterfly flitted around the person. This person was wearing Frank’s pajamas. Below was written, word for word, I shit you not: Hey, asswipe. Time to get off yo’ mothahfuckin’ sore bum and start saving yourself. The rapture may be coming (or it may not…God and I have yet to set a date, but the big day is coming soon! I swear, I squealed like a school girl when he asked me for the next rapture. I said, I told him “YESYESYES, A THOUSAND TIMES YES!”
I’m no prankster…alright! You got me, but you’ve got to stop going insane on me. Or maybe I shouldn’t go sane on you…English is so 400 A.D.…
Love ya.
I can’t wait til you’re mine…
Is it Franklin or do you go by Frankie? Whatever. I’ll just call you asswipe.
Is it p.s.s.s. or p.p.p.s.?
Ohmyasswipe, I’m such a fool. I feel so stupid. This is permanent blood, you know. I just wanted to show my undying love for killing you. OVER AND OVER AND OVER.

Right then, Frank growled and hit the carpet. Why was the devil picking on him?
His parents, still not knowing the thing to do because you don’t normally get any crazies at a bank in a town like Mayberry and when all you do is right cooking books all day long, the nutters don’t come knocking on your door. And Frank had always been a good kid. He got nice grades, he was creative, sensitive, good with animals and he stood up for those who couldn’t stand up for themselves. He was always happy, never stressed…why would he be seeing things now?

They did the only logical thing. They called their cousin Lois in upstate New York. You see, Lois was a farmer and her younger brother who didn’t have a phone and lived in Portland came up to visit her every so often. He knew a lady in Katonah who he had worked with at a health food store in North Hampton, but now she was a publisher, wife and a mother of two young boys named Gavin and Tommy. She knew of a man in the toughest part of Jersey who was struggling to become an artist for any cartooning company. She knew this because he’d sent her various sketches that were all very good but had no plot. She said to send in a plot and then it might happen. That artist knew of a very reputable cop with the best grades in criminology one could get from Miami University.

Frank wasn't going to get a chance to eat. Damn. He was starved.

I just am utterly shocked that this story is getting liked. I honestly…I…wow.
Thank you for making me speechless, here’s an unexpected update from a very sleepy child. I don’t know…it may not make sense because I am in a mood and shit. XD But. Really. It feels like 3 in the morning…it’s only 8:41 PM. ARHGHHHHHHHHHH.
OHMYGEE, MIRAZAL AND 19206277382007! You guys are boss. Thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaank you from the bottom of my love infested black little heart. I’m cryin’ rainbows here.
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