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` Frank's P.O.V.

I could feel myself gradually start to regain consciousness.
It felt like everything was spinning.
I opened my eyes.

I had no recollection of what happened before I blacked out. All I remembered was running from Gerard's apartment, and into the woods, but I couldn't remember how I became unconscious. I suddenly realized I was lying in a bed in a room I didn't recognize. Where was I? How long had I been here?
I sat up and looked around.

The room was dark. The only form of light was spilling in from a big window with bars across it.
The faded floral wallpaper plastered to the walls looked like it had been there for years, and patches of it were missing, revealing the bare wall behind. There were what appeared to be long scratch marks down one side of the wall, like someone..or something had once tried to get out.
I got out of the bed, shakily trying to stand up, and began to search the room, in hope of maybe finding out where I was.

I caught a glance of myself in a bronze mirror that was hanging on the wall opposite the bed. I looked like a train-wreck.
My shirt was ripped, my entire left cheek was covered in dirt and my jeans were caked with mud and fallen leaves. How did this happen?
I shook off the eerie feeling and looked around some more.

There was hardly anything in here. Just a bed, a mirror and...some kind of furniture in the corner draped in a red sheet. I walked over to it, and slowly pulled the sheet off, curious as to know what was under it. It was just a wooden dresser with 4 drawers. But why was it hidden under the sheet?

I pulled open the first drawer. Empty.
I pulled open the second drawer. Empty.
I pulled open the third drawer. Empty.

I couldn't even believe my eyes when I opened the fourth drawer. It contained knives.

Blood-stained knives. Every size,shape, and kind. All stained with blood.

They look like they hadn't been used in a while, too. I picked one up and held it in my hands.
The blade was sharper than anything you could ever imagine, and it had little jagged edges. Whatever it was, it looked like it was painful.

Suddenly, upon hearing footsteps outside the door, I dropped the knife, sending it clattering loudly to the floor. The door swung open.
It was Andy.
I froze in place, while he stared me dead in the eyes.

He walked in and closed the door behind him, and stood in front of me.
His menacing glare burned deep into me, as he towered over me.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked.

I couldn't even form any words to speak. I just blanky looked at him.

"Playing with my knives, I see?" He said, gesturing to the drawer.

"I just...I was just..I-" I stuttered.

A smirk crossed his pale face as he picked up the knife I had dropped.

"Well, Frank...if you like to play with knives...I can help you with that." He said, seductively.

I took a step back, in fear of what he was going to do next.

"Don't be shy." Andy giggled, moving closer.

I took a few more steps back, until I could feel the wall against my back.
'Fuck' I thought.

He pressed his body against mine. The strong smell of smoke and alcohol infiltrated my lungs.
I froze while he held me against the wall and dragged the blunt side of the cold metal blade across my cheek.
I tried to squirm out of his grip, but it was no use. He was far more stronger than me, I knew didn't stand a chance.
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, while I started to shake in fear, as he started to slowly, yet carefully drag the sharp side of the blade along the side of my neck.

My breath hitched in my throat. The pain was absolutely unbearable. The small jagged edges of his knife smoothly broke my skin, causing me to bleed.
His eyes danced with sick satisfaction while he watched a drop of crimson blood slither down my chest, disappearing into my shirt.

It felt as if my blood went cold while I watched him lift the blade to my neck again, dragging the knife across the same place he had just drawn blood from. A few more drops of blood rolled down my chest.
The pain felt disastrous the second time, resulting in a whimper escaping my throat.

"You like that?" Andy whispered, alluringly as his malicious blue eyes met mine.


"N-no, stop." I pleaded, helplessly.

He moved back a step, freeing me from being pinned between him and the wall.

"Frank. Do you know why I brought you here?" Andy inquired, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I don't know." I replied sheepishly.

"You wouldn't be stuck here if your darling Gerard had just put you to your death, like he was supposed to. Like I ordered him to." Andy said.

"He wouldn't do something like that to me." I snapped.
The minute those words escaped my mouth, I almost wanted to take them back.
What if Gerard would? After everything he had said to me before I left, it made me question if he ever had any fondness towards me.
Maybe he was a big fake the whole time..just waiting for the right time to murder me.
Maybe he really did love me, but like he said, couldn't keep both of us safe from Andy.

"Something wrong?" Andy broke the silence.

"No, I just-" I started to say.

"You're not even sure of him yourself, are you? A creature as sinister as a Fallen angel could never be in love with an innocent being like you." Andy sneered.

I hung my head. He was right. Why would I even think I had a chance? For someone as pathetic as myself.
Andy proceeded to close the drawer of knives, and cover the dresser with the red sheet.

"Love's a waste of time, kid." Andy said, before leaving the room and locking the door behind him.


I was left in silence and what would soon be the torment of my own thoughts yet again.
But somewhere, far deep down, I had a little sliver of hope about Gerard.
----
Hey guys :) I feel like this story could have a bit more success on Wattpad, so I'm leaving the link to my profile here http://wattpad.com/Yorgismorgi
I'm still going to be updating the story on here, but I can have the possibility to connect more with my reviewers & readers on there. If you follow me on Wattpad, I'll follow you back too c: