Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Sincerity's In, So Don't You Sound Like You Mean It

Dead On Arrival

by pixied_secrets 11 reviews


Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: R - Genres: Angst, Drama - Warnings: [!!!] [R] [V] - Published: 2006-11-03 - Updated: 2006-11-04 - 2356 words

Chapter Fifteen - Dead On Arrival

I think I'm going crazy.

I have no option but to sit here and wonder what is going to happen to me. I let my eyes focus on the room, finally taking notice of the small details, like the scent of pure wood and the heavy odor of musk that this house emits. Or like how every footstep creeks loudly, and every noise echoes...I couldn't escape even if I did get free. He would hear me...

This is the perfect place to kill someone.

I can feel the flush in my face, my body heat mind isn't working right. That fucking vodka is taking it's effect, slowly but surely. Maybe I should have drank more. It could have done a better job at numbing the pain.

I don't know when the sun went down because I didn't get to see the sunset. I might not ever see it again.

I am forcing the tears back. I'm so fucking done with crying. One more tear isn't going to help me, one more emotion isn't going to get me out of here. I'm just going to push everything back. Pain, anger, happiness, hope. All out the window.
All of these thoughts flooded Belle's mind as she tugged her wrists against the rope. She could feel the thin skin open, seeping forth blood. She tried to meditate... take herself away from the situation and what she was doing. The stinging, burning feeling began taking over ever fiber in her body, making the tears appear again.

The tears rapidly turned into frustration, causing her to begin flinging her body wildly. She was turning her emotions to pure hatred as she moved her body violently around the bed. She felt something jab her arm, causing her to flinch and give up the fight she was ragging with herself.

Instead of crying, she looked for the sharp object and smiled crazily when her fingers grazed over a jagged piece of the metal headboard. She didn't waste any time in rubbing the rope against it. The noise was reverberating in her ears, the only thing louder being her heartbeat.

The sound of the rope ripping (even though it was thread by thread) was music to her ears. Thread by thread she was coming undone.

Another rip was followed by another glimmer of hope. She was ignoring the sensational pain in her wrists, arms, muscles...she just focused on the rope. She wrapped her finger around it; she was almost half done. Almost...

She heard his footsteps and stopped. She calmed her breathing. Now is not the time to get caught. Not now. I'm too close, she thought.

She closed her eyes and relaxed her muscles, pretending to sleep. She controlled her breathing. Calm and steady. She knew he had made it to the doorway because the footsteps stopped. Oh god, he knows I'm awake.

He stood there for a minute and she pleaded with God to make him leave the room. I never talk to Him...

She heard his footsteps come closer, and her heartbeat quicken. But he stopped, shuffled his feet for a minute, and walked back out of the door.

She wasted no time in finding the rough spot, rubbing more furiously. When I get out I'm going to... wait, no hope, remember? Just focus...

Sweat was beginning to bead at her forehead, some of it resulting from nervousness and some of it from over-exhaustion. It seemed to take forever to hear the next rip. It was thinning rapidly...

"No, I want Patrick on the phone for this as well," She heard Brock's icy voice.

She let her arms go lax again just as he made his way into the room. He narrowed his eyes at her and hit a button on the phone, making the voices of both of her brothers flood the room.

"Belle? Are you there?" Kevin was trying to stay strong, she could tell.

Brock made his way to the bed, putting a finger to his mouth, signaling for her to be quiet. The look in his eyes read that one wrong move on her part would surely be her last.

"Oh god. Who has you, Belle? Who is he?"

She closed her eyes upon hearing the desperation in Patrick's voice. How could they not know? Surely Kevin had found out. What if they truly had no leads? Before she could stop herself the first syllable of his name came out of her mouth. "Bro-"

Brock was fast as he backhanded her, emitting a squeal from her mouth, followed by a whimper.

"You motherfucker! Leave her alone!!"

"Please! Just stop!!"

She could hear both Patrick and Kevin's cries as Brock threw her phone nightstand, and quickly moved to hover over her.

"I'm glad they're going to be here for this," Brock said with his sinister smile. She saw the look in his eyes as his hand went down to her pants, quickly undoing the button.

Patrick and Kevin were both screaming at this point, and she heard them clearly. She wanted to reassure them; tell them she was okay. But Brock's fingers, the look in his eyes were enough to make her crumble. She couldn't focus on anything but the fact that he was quickly slipping off her pants.

"Belle! Are you still there?"

Brock connected his eyes with hers. "I want them to hear you scream," He said in a low voice, sending a chill over ever fiber in her body. She pulled and wrestled as he placed his hands on her body, being overly rough to emit noise from her.

She could hardly hear Patrick's voice as it was breaking up because of his tears. She was whining, crying... she couldn't force herself to stop. Not with his hands on her body.

When his fingers pushed past her panties and into her she gasped and began to fight harder.

"Don't! Please...stop! You're hurting me!!"

Patrick was sobbing and Kevin was screaming threats.

"We're going to have to make this quick," She heard Brock's voice in between everything. "You're phone is dying," He commented. She heard the faint beep that was signaling the death of the battery.

He sat up quickly and his fingers began to fumble with the zipper on his pants. His eyes were focused intently on getting his pants down, as she jerked violently, her whole body moving.

She felt the rope loosen more, and she fought back harder. She had to get free.

Kevin was screaming louder... threats, promises.

She tugged on her arms as Brock slid his pants off.

"Belle, I...I love you," Patrick sobbed.

She tugged one more time and the final thread released her arms. She didn't use her mind, she just reacted, letting her knee meet his bare groan with much more force than she thought she had in her body.

She rolled off of the bed clumsily, grabbed the phone, and let her legs move as swiftly as they could. She went through an open living room before finding the front door.

As soon as her feet hit the obscenely tall grass she began to run. Her phone beeped, bringing her attention back to it.

"Please help me!" She screamed into the receiver, where Kevin had begun to ask her questions and scream hasty advise.

She looked back and gasped. It was the...

"It's the log cabin!! Ask Pete! It's the log-" The cell phone took it's final breath, so she gripped it tighter and tried forcing her legs to go faster. She didn't have time to think about it. Her feet picked up the pace, and when she looked back all she could see was his silhouette coming quickly her way.

She willed the muscles in her body to go faster, but her feet were void of protection, making it impossible to keep pace with her mind.

She heard his footsteps, and being too focused on looking back, she tripped and fell face first. She tried to scramble to her feet, but he caught up to her nimbly.

His hands were quickly in her hair, one at her arm. She felt him throw a punch her way, connecting with her jaw.

And with that single strike, she gave up hope...

Pete looked over to Patrick who had just ran to the bathroom, Greta and Joe on his heels. Pete could hear him vomiting violently, and it made his own stomach turn. Not because of the noise, but because of the reason.

Pete's phone rang from the table and he quickly snatched it up.


"What happened? Patrick, he...he's throwing up, Kevin! Is she okay? Can-"

"I need you to calm down. I need your help. She thinks you know where she is," Kevin said, his voice rather raspy and his breathing hard.

Pete closed his eyes and tried to focus on Kevin, but he's thought's were elsewhere.

I can't control my breathing, almost as much as I can't control him. I can't control the bleeding from my lip, my wrists...trying to divert my attention between them, replacing one cause of anguish with another. I can't do anything but hope for them to find me.

But what if they get here and I'm already dead?

I looked up at Brock through blurry eyes as he spoke loudly. I can't decipher the words anymore because they are all beginning to sound the same.

What is he trying to do? He only hit me once and he didn't go through with raping me. Why? What is holding him back?

He was smart enough to tie my hands in front of my body this time. But even if he didn't, I don't have the energy to fight back. He starts yelling, saying something about the blood, but quickly changes the topic.

"Do you know what I'm going to do to you?"

"No," I told him, instantly regretting opening my mouth because the motion redirects the pain back to my lips.

I focus on that feeling. The way the blood mixes with the sweat. The liquids seem comparable when you can't see them and you can only feel them trickle slowly down your skin.

He is screaming at me now. I am trying to drown him out, but I can't risk making him even more irrational... if that is even possible at this point.

Patricks voice is reverberating in my ears. He is dying inside, and meanwhile Kevin is trying to be strong. I heard Brock tell him it's his fault, but surely that can't be true.

"You think Kevin's completely chivalrous and merciful, don't you?" He spat, the cold words snapping me back into my harsh reality. The animosity in his voice caught every inkling of my attention.

"He is my brother, Brock," I said, letting my mouth finally utter his name.

"You should know exactly what makes people like me heartless, and people like your darling brother viscous," He said with a softer tone.

"You have blind faith in people. Do you realize that?" His voice seemed to soften even more and I thought I sensed a hint of sympathy in his voice.

"Look at where it got me," I replied weakly.

I looked at him as he stopped pacing and took a seat in front of me. His eyes showed remorse and compassion, making me question my sanity.

"What do you want from me?" I asked spiritlessly. I didn't have the mental capacity to deal with his mind games anymore.

"I want you to see life how it really is. I want you to know why I feel hatred the way I do..."

It was painfully silent as the vehicle pulled off to the side of the road, turning all headlights off as to not give up their whereabouts. The only noise to be heard was that of lonely forest creatures, and the light footsteps and clanks coming from the seven or so passengers as they exited the vehicle.

The sole source of communication between them was discreet hand signals, causing the bodies to stealthily move toward the front door of the mysterious lone cabin.

They listened for any clues as to which direction they should go, a few wandering off towards the back of the house.

Once all of the men were in place, the ringleader scooted to the front door. He wasted no time in bringing his foot up to promptly and successfully kick the door open.

The ringleader's eyes immediately fell on the deranged looking man as his fellow officers joined him.

"Drop the gun! Drop it!!" He said, pointing his pistol at a the deranged looking man, who had his own weapon pointed to his head.

"I just hope she understands," And with that, the trigger was pulled and the gun shot echoed loudly off of the walls; reverberating off of the trees and disappeared into the lonely forest.

The eyes of the men first went to the sight of a body, hunched over a pool of rapidly flowing dark crimson blood.

A handful of men moved quickly to hover over the body, as the others heard an almost silent whimper.

The focus was immediately shifted towards the figure curled up into a dark corner.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," She whispered, wrapping her arms that were tied together at the wrist around her knees, rocking back and forth. The lights of the ambulance were seen through the window as she talked to herself. She didn't seem to notice the presence of the officers as her breathing began to quicken and her rocking dwindled quickly.

Her chest heaved quickly until her eyes rolled in the back of her head and she saw darkness.

Author's Note: bah. sorry it took so long to post. everyone has been updating like crazy, and i'm a reader before a writer... that's fo' sho'.

if you are starting to get depressed because of all of the drama in here (i know i am), make yourself smile. Check out FrostedGlass's "Group Therapy: Ficwad Characters Uncensored" it's under my favorites. you will shit your pants. i did.
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