Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Malkavain
Chapter Two
6 reviewsIs it worth it? Can you even hear me? Standing with your spotlight on me Not enough to feed the hungry I'm tired and I felt it for awhile now
0Illiterate
A/N it took me so long to write this chapter, I knew what I wanted to write but somehow I wouldn't the words out. But finally here it is. Nothing like the original, hope use don't mind. But I like this one better.
Thank you Death_Herself for your advice, it really helped
Malkavain
Chapter Two
Is it worth it? Can you even hear me?
Standing with your spotlight on me
Not enough to feed the hungry
I'm tired and I felt it for awhile now
A man who looked no older than Twenty-Five stood on the balcony that was attached to his bedroom, watching as the night’s sky got increasingly darker as the evening grow on. Puffing lightly on his Cuban Cigar he had specially shipped in once a month. His addiction growing more and more as time went on, the cancer stick having little to know effect on him, meaning he could indulge on the sweet taste.
It was a calm evening considering they were facing the North Atlantic Ocean. The breeze from the Atlantic swept lightly over the east coast. Small waves smashed against the coastal line. The young man watched as the seagulls flew overhead, heading for the nearby mountain for their slumber party. Some kids were messing on the beach, more than likely getting drunk off cheap beer listening to their load vulgar music. He could here is from his balcony, thumping in the back of his mind. He snarled and shook his head and chuckled softly to himself thinking how there little party night would soon turn into their worst nightmare.
He flicked his Cuban over the balcony and wondered inside, picking up his freshly washed crisp shirt and slung it on his back, buttoning it up and tucking it into his skinny legged suit trousers. All black of course. No other colour was worthy to settle on his pale white skin. He had never been seen in any other colour. There was a soft knock on the door and the man grunted in response showing that it was safe to enter. The door cracked open slightly and he was greeted by a pale face with think rimmed glasses. The young man didn’t need them anymore, but he refused to remove them from upon his nose. They were a part of his old life and he wasn’t ready to part with that side of him just yet. The older man smiled and beckoned him in and took a seat at his desk while the younger of the two took a set on the nearby four poster bed.
“Do we really have to do this Gee? I mean can’t we just..”
“Just what? Forget who we are? Gorge on cute fluffy animals again? Michael this is who we are, and the sooner you come to terms with that the better” Gerard stood and held open his arms as the younger of the two ran to him and was enveloped into a soft embrace. “I know this is tough for you, and even after all these years your heart is still alive and strong even if it is not beating anymore. You baby brother are what’s keeping me sane in this horror we live in. Don’t ever think that just because I’ve adapted quicker than you that I don’t wish it was different. But it’s not and we have to do what we have to, to survive. Now come. We must go before it’s too late.” Gerard pulled away and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Michael smiled and left the room to go wait with the others.
…………………………………………………………………………………………….
The group of teens where now sitting around there little make shirt fire, a few of them had tried to argue against it, sure they would be caught quickly changed their minds after the cold had settled on the east coast. They all cradled there last beer in their hands, laughing and making jokes trying to forget how cold it had gotten, none of them wanting to go home because it would make them look weak to their peers. One boy in particular was having a hard time staying with the group. It was so cold now and he had forgotten to take this jacket with him. He shook in this misfits t-shirt moving a little closer to the fire to get some warmth. He knew by tomorrow he would be supporting the worst cold none to man but he wouldn’t be the first to leave. He had only just become friends with the group and a way of celebrating their new group member they had all decided to go down to the abandoned beach with a few beers and have some fun.
One of them had the great idea of telling scary stories, each of them took a turn in trying to scare the group, and the stories that got the most ooooo’s and aaaa’s got the very last beer that was sitting perched on the cool box. One story in particular was gut gripping. It was the tale of the old man that lived in the castle at the end of the beach. Legend was that he was some Satan worshiper who had his own followers. They would roam the town and nearby city and capture men and woman and take them back to the dungeons and torture them, letting their blood spill for Satan to bath in. After the rituals they would cut the bodies up and make the house chef cook and serve it to them.
“And… the legend says that he still walks the corridors at night, calling out and hoping someone will be stupid enough and set him free so he can kill again.” Dean roared laughing as he finished his story, the girls screaming and clinging on to whoever was nearby.
“That’s bullshit.”
“Nuh’uh it really happened” Dean argued.
“Really, Do YOU have proof? There are no documents or books about it? And if it is true how come that’s the first time I’ve heard that story? And I have lived here for 17 and a half years” The boy huffed and argued his pint. Its ridicules, how stupid can you be to believe a story like that?
“Oh on contraire my boy, the tail, is indeed fouls. He never died!!” Dean was ripped up from the sand kicking and screaming. The group screamed and scrambled to their feet and ran in different directions. The faster they ran the more screams could be heard. Blood curdling screams filled the air and washed out to see with the ever growing tied. Soon enough the group of teens where no more, each one of them had been ripped apart by their worst nightmare, every drop of blood their bodies had to offer where drained within seconds. They lay limp on the sand, terrified looks upon their faces.
Accept one, the fastest of the group. The boy had managed to get away, knowing the beach surroundings better than any of them and was now hiding among the rocks at the bottom of the castle. Probably his worst move as of yet but he was in the shade, dressed in black. He wouldn’t be seen. He crouched in his hiding spot and watched as his knew friends were murdered. What surprised him though was of how they were murdered. There was no knife or gun, they weren’t bet to death with an object, and In fact there was no weapon at all involved. The group of men simply held them up by their throats and tucked their own faces into the necks of the teenagers. Then they dropped them to the ground and wiped their mouths. The boy was in awe, watching with wide eyes as the killers killed his friend’s with their…. mouths? He didn’t understand it. Whatever was happening he prayed he wouldn’t be caught. He didn’t want the same faith of his friend’s no matter how shit life was.
The group of men stood close to each other talking, one walked around the bodies and checked to see if they were dead, that’s what the boy presumed he was doing. The man said something and they all stopped talking. They stood still on the beach, the boy moved slightly as his leg was starting to cramp rom hi crouched position. One of the men’s head shot to look in his direction, the boys heart stopped as he watched him carefully. There was no way he could see him from his hiding spot, he was deep into the rocking, pecking out a small crack. The all slowly turned in his direction and started walking towards the castle. The boy closed his eyes and slowed his breathing to the point he could hardly hear it himself, the only proof that he was still breathing was the rise and fall of his chest, He opened his eyes again and to his pure relief the men were gone. He let out a small laugh and blessed himself, uttering a thank you to the lord. He slowly crawled out of his hiding spot to be greeted by a pair of fancy black shoes. His heart stopped for a second time that night, looking up to find a very handsome man looking down at him, arms folded and a smirk playing on his lips. The boy recognised him; he was with the group of men on the beach. He gulped and with wide eyes watched as the man suck down on to his hunkers.
“Did you enjoy the show? You’re faster than the others. You almost got away if it wasn’t for the beating of your heart.” The man smirked as the boys mouth dropped open. It had been a long time since some got away and he got a chance to play. He had missed it. He brought his hand up to cup the boys chin and smirked as he felt his body shaking in his hand “You’re a pretty little boy, aren’t you? What’s your name?” The boy gulped and shakily answered the man.
“I…I’m Fuh-Frank… Frank Iero”
Thank you Death_Herself for your advice, it really helped
Malkavain
Chapter Two
Is it worth it? Can you even hear me?
Standing with your spotlight on me
Not enough to feed the hungry
I'm tired and I felt it for awhile now
A man who looked no older than Twenty-Five stood on the balcony that was attached to his bedroom, watching as the night’s sky got increasingly darker as the evening grow on. Puffing lightly on his Cuban Cigar he had specially shipped in once a month. His addiction growing more and more as time went on, the cancer stick having little to know effect on him, meaning he could indulge on the sweet taste.
It was a calm evening considering they were facing the North Atlantic Ocean. The breeze from the Atlantic swept lightly over the east coast. Small waves smashed against the coastal line. The young man watched as the seagulls flew overhead, heading for the nearby mountain for their slumber party. Some kids were messing on the beach, more than likely getting drunk off cheap beer listening to their load vulgar music. He could here is from his balcony, thumping in the back of his mind. He snarled and shook his head and chuckled softly to himself thinking how there little party night would soon turn into their worst nightmare.
He flicked his Cuban over the balcony and wondered inside, picking up his freshly washed crisp shirt and slung it on his back, buttoning it up and tucking it into his skinny legged suit trousers. All black of course. No other colour was worthy to settle on his pale white skin. He had never been seen in any other colour. There was a soft knock on the door and the man grunted in response showing that it was safe to enter. The door cracked open slightly and he was greeted by a pale face with think rimmed glasses. The young man didn’t need them anymore, but he refused to remove them from upon his nose. They were a part of his old life and he wasn’t ready to part with that side of him just yet. The older man smiled and beckoned him in and took a seat at his desk while the younger of the two took a set on the nearby four poster bed.
“Do we really have to do this Gee? I mean can’t we just..”
“Just what? Forget who we are? Gorge on cute fluffy animals again? Michael this is who we are, and the sooner you come to terms with that the better” Gerard stood and held open his arms as the younger of the two ran to him and was enveloped into a soft embrace. “I know this is tough for you, and even after all these years your heart is still alive and strong even if it is not beating anymore. You baby brother are what’s keeping me sane in this horror we live in. Don’t ever think that just because I’ve adapted quicker than you that I don’t wish it was different. But it’s not and we have to do what we have to, to survive. Now come. We must go before it’s too late.” Gerard pulled away and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Michael smiled and left the room to go wait with the others.
…………………………………………………………………………………………….
The group of teens where now sitting around there little make shirt fire, a few of them had tried to argue against it, sure they would be caught quickly changed their minds after the cold had settled on the east coast. They all cradled there last beer in their hands, laughing and making jokes trying to forget how cold it had gotten, none of them wanting to go home because it would make them look weak to their peers. One boy in particular was having a hard time staying with the group. It was so cold now and he had forgotten to take this jacket with him. He shook in this misfits t-shirt moving a little closer to the fire to get some warmth. He knew by tomorrow he would be supporting the worst cold none to man but he wouldn’t be the first to leave. He had only just become friends with the group and a way of celebrating their new group member they had all decided to go down to the abandoned beach with a few beers and have some fun.
One of them had the great idea of telling scary stories, each of them took a turn in trying to scare the group, and the stories that got the most ooooo’s and aaaa’s got the very last beer that was sitting perched on the cool box. One story in particular was gut gripping. It was the tale of the old man that lived in the castle at the end of the beach. Legend was that he was some Satan worshiper who had his own followers. They would roam the town and nearby city and capture men and woman and take them back to the dungeons and torture them, letting their blood spill for Satan to bath in. After the rituals they would cut the bodies up and make the house chef cook and serve it to them.
“And… the legend says that he still walks the corridors at night, calling out and hoping someone will be stupid enough and set him free so he can kill again.” Dean roared laughing as he finished his story, the girls screaming and clinging on to whoever was nearby.
“That’s bullshit.”
“Nuh’uh it really happened” Dean argued.
“Really, Do YOU have proof? There are no documents or books about it? And if it is true how come that’s the first time I’ve heard that story? And I have lived here for 17 and a half years” The boy huffed and argued his pint. Its ridicules, how stupid can you be to believe a story like that?
“Oh on contraire my boy, the tail, is indeed fouls. He never died!!” Dean was ripped up from the sand kicking and screaming. The group screamed and scrambled to their feet and ran in different directions. The faster they ran the more screams could be heard. Blood curdling screams filled the air and washed out to see with the ever growing tied. Soon enough the group of teens where no more, each one of them had been ripped apart by their worst nightmare, every drop of blood their bodies had to offer where drained within seconds. They lay limp on the sand, terrified looks upon their faces.
Accept one, the fastest of the group. The boy had managed to get away, knowing the beach surroundings better than any of them and was now hiding among the rocks at the bottom of the castle. Probably his worst move as of yet but he was in the shade, dressed in black. He wouldn’t be seen. He crouched in his hiding spot and watched as his knew friends were murdered. What surprised him though was of how they were murdered. There was no knife or gun, they weren’t bet to death with an object, and In fact there was no weapon at all involved. The group of men simply held them up by their throats and tucked their own faces into the necks of the teenagers. Then they dropped them to the ground and wiped their mouths. The boy was in awe, watching with wide eyes as the killers killed his friend’s with their…. mouths? He didn’t understand it. Whatever was happening he prayed he wouldn’t be caught. He didn’t want the same faith of his friend’s no matter how shit life was.
The group of men stood close to each other talking, one walked around the bodies and checked to see if they were dead, that’s what the boy presumed he was doing. The man said something and they all stopped talking. They stood still on the beach, the boy moved slightly as his leg was starting to cramp rom hi crouched position. One of the men’s head shot to look in his direction, the boys heart stopped as he watched him carefully. There was no way he could see him from his hiding spot, he was deep into the rocking, pecking out a small crack. The all slowly turned in his direction and started walking towards the castle. The boy closed his eyes and slowed his breathing to the point he could hardly hear it himself, the only proof that he was still breathing was the rise and fall of his chest, He opened his eyes again and to his pure relief the men were gone. He let out a small laugh and blessed himself, uttering a thank you to the lord. He slowly crawled out of his hiding spot to be greeted by a pair of fancy black shoes. His heart stopped for a second time that night, looking up to find a very handsome man looking down at him, arms folded and a smirk playing on his lips. The boy recognised him; he was with the group of men on the beach. He gulped and with wide eyes watched as the man suck down on to his hunkers.
“Did you enjoy the show? You’re faster than the others. You almost got away if it wasn’t for the beating of your heart.” The man smirked as the boys mouth dropped open. It had been a long time since some got away and he got a chance to play. He had missed it. He brought his hand up to cup the boys chin and smirked as he felt his body shaking in his hand “You’re a pretty little boy, aren’t you? What’s your name?” The boy gulped and shakily answered the man.
“I…I’m Fuh-Frank… Frank Iero”
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