Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Lighthouse
The Agony of the Aftermath
13 reviewsThe next victim was chosen in the last chapter. The aftermath of that accident (if it even was) will be twenty times worse than anything any of the boys can ever imagine. Will they survive the drea...
1Ambiance
Chapter 5 Disclaimer- People apparently have the right to own themselves. Who the heck came up with that ludicrous idea? Gerard is MINE!!! RAWR!!! Heh. Just kidding.
A/N- Wow. Your reviews have me...wow. I feel all fuzzy inside! I have the power to make you cower in fear, and make you unable to form full sentences! WOOT!! Oh, yeah, I'm good. -does stupid dance- Um, yup. So, uh, this story, well, the worst the language will get is like 'damn' and 'hell' but that's it. So, uh...enjoy this chapter! Cower in fear, mortal fools! -walks away laughing manically-
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The blood. Oh, God, the blood. It was everywhere. It stuck to your skin, dripping and flowing and still/ warm/. This blood wasn't the kind they used in their photo-shoots; it didn't give him the same feeling that blood did. That blood made him feel alive, gave him a new persona, gave him a different identity. That blood, of course, was fake. This...this was real. Unbelievably, horrifyingly real. And what made the situation twenty times worse, was the source of the blood.
His brother. His kid brother. Hell, the whole band's kid brother.
Walking down the stairs, his heart had skipped a beat when he saw the trail of blood leading to the sitting room, the one the fire-place. His heart had pulled the clichéd beat-skip, causing him more stress than he really needed at this point and age in his life.
Gerard followed the trail, feeling like he was trapped in a cheesy horror film that he loved so much. Correction. Had loved. Not so much any more.
Tears had instantly burned his eyes as he reached the end of the gruesome blood-trail.
"Mikey...," was the choked whisper that erupted from his lips.
The young man walked up to his brother slowly, cautiously, hoping that this was a dream. Like it ever was a dream.
It wasn't a dream, and now Gerard could see clearly the source of the blood, the wound causing the blood-flow.
Stepping closer, Gerard realized that it wasn't 'wound'. The correct word would be 'wounds'. Or better yet, 'mangled chest, abdomen, arms, and legs of a young man much too young to have to deal with this much pain'.
Gerard collapsed to his knees next to Mikey's motionless body, surveying the bloody mess that used to be his brother. Technically, he still was, but he sure as hell didn't look it.
"Oh, God, Mikey. I'm so sorry," Gerard whispered, touching his arm.
Eyes wide, he pulled back in shock. So cold. So horrifyingly, morbidly cold.
With a shaky hand, he reached out, placing his index and middle finger on the place on Mikey's neck where his pulse is. Was.
Gerard squeezed his eyes shut, praying that he just had the wrong place on the neck. He desperately grabbed Mikey's wrist, frantically trying to find a pulse. Nothing. Oh, God, nothing.
Grabbing Mikey's limp body and pulling it to his chest, Gerard wailed, "MIKEY!!! NOOOO!!!!!!!!!"
Then, his façade of calm crumbled and Gerard Way burst into tears, sobbing for his lost brother.
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Frank paused on the stairs as he noticed the trail of blood leading toward the choked sobs, just out of view.
Something about the room they were headed towards set off an alarm in his head. It was almost as if something bad had happened in there. Well, obviously something bad had happened in there just now, but the alarm was saying that something bad had happened to him.
So of course he stopped. This was a real problem because Ray and Bob had no warning, and ran straight into Frank who was leading them slowly down the stairs. This in turn led to Frank losing his balance, and him falling forward.
Ray, thankfully, had quick reflexes and grabbed Frank's arm with a gasp. Frank also gasped, grabbing Ray's arm in order to regain his balance. Straightening himself, Frank looked over the edge of the rail-less staircase, swallowing hard at the almost twenty-foot drop.
Grabbing Frank's chin, Ray made him look at him.
"Are you trying to kill yourself?" he hissed.
Frank smirked.
"Well, we're all on the Hindenburg. May as well not fight over a window seat."
Ray dropped his hold on Frank and looked away, trying not to laugh, especially since they really should be getting to Gerard and Mikey.
Lightly pushing Frank forward, Ray said, "We need to go to Gee and Mikey."
Frank nodded, trying to swallow the lump in his throat and not to choke on his thick-tongue.
So, down they went.
Reaching the bottom, Frank froze. The scene was all-too familiar, and it scared the heel out of him, especially since he had no recall of where the familiar-ness was coming from.
Ray lightly pushed him forward, urging him on. Frank shook his head wildly, and actually took a step back.
Bob said from behind, "You really wanna be left alone?"
Frank weighed the two options against each other, before silently latching onto Ray's arm. Ray looked at him, and nodded, continuing forward.
Since he was in front, Ray saw the sad sight before Frank and Bob.
The low, "Nooo...," that came from his throat alerted the other two men that the scene would be bad.
Frank craned his neck, and gasped.
The sight before him was absolutely heart breaking. Gerard was gripping the body tightly, rocking back and forth lightly as be bawled.
Repetitively, he sobbed, "Mikey, Mikey, Mikey...," in rhythm with his movement.
The broken older brother didn't even notice the three other men, and Frank suddenly felt like he was intruding. He knew Mikey, and suddenly, upon seeing this, the guitarist remembered.
He remembered everything. Sadness filled his heart and soul as he remembered Mikey and who he was. He also remembered everything else. It was as if a traumatic experience was needed to regain old memories. Frank only wished that something of this magnitude hadn't been needed for the re-awakening of his memories.
Retuning his attention to the grieving brother, Frank walked forward and kneeled next to Gerard.
Placing a hand on his shoulder, Frank looked at Gerard closely.
His cheeks were smeared with blood. Mikey's blood. His eyes were hollow-looking, but bright with tears.
He stared blankly ahead, clutching the corpse to his chest.
"Gerard...," Frank said.
Of course, he got no response. Frank only hoped that the no response would only be temporary.
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A/N- Was it a bad idea to kill off Mikey? If so, was the chapter otherwise good? Did you like it? Were the descriptions too lengthy? Tell me what you think! REVIEW!!! Oh, and the Hindenburg quote isn't owned by me.
A/N- Wow. Your reviews have me...wow. I feel all fuzzy inside! I have the power to make you cower in fear, and make you unable to form full sentences! WOOT!! Oh, yeah, I'm good. -does stupid dance- Um, yup. So, uh, this story, well, the worst the language will get is like 'damn' and 'hell' but that's it. So, uh...enjoy this chapter! Cower in fear, mortal fools! -walks away laughing manically-
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The blood. Oh, God, the blood. It was everywhere. It stuck to your skin, dripping and flowing and still/ warm/. This blood wasn't the kind they used in their photo-shoots; it didn't give him the same feeling that blood did. That blood made him feel alive, gave him a new persona, gave him a different identity. That blood, of course, was fake. This...this was real. Unbelievably, horrifyingly real. And what made the situation twenty times worse, was the source of the blood.
His brother. His kid brother. Hell, the whole band's kid brother.
Walking down the stairs, his heart had skipped a beat when he saw the trail of blood leading to the sitting room, the one the fire-place. His heart had pulled the clichéd beat-skip, causing him more stress than he really needed at this point and age in his life.
Gerard followed the trail, feeling like he was trapped in a cheesy horror film that he loved so much. Correction. Had loved. Not so much any more.
Tears had instantly burned his eyes as he reached the end of the gruesome blood-trail.
"Mikey...," was the choked whisper that erupted from his lips.
The young man walked up to his brother slowly, cautiously, hoping that this was a dream. Like it ever was a dream.
It wasn't a dream, and now Gerard could see clearly the source of the blood, the wound causing the blood-flow.
Stepping closer, Gerard realized that it wasn't 'wound'. The correct word would be 'wounds'. Or better yet, 'mangled chest, abdomen, arms, and legs of a young man much too young to have to deal with this much pain'.
Gerard collapsed to his knees next to Mikey's motionless body, surveying the bloody mess that used to be his brother. Technically, he still was, but he sure as hell didn't look it.
"Oh, God, Mikey. I'm so sorry," Gerard whispered, touching his arm.
Eyes wide, he pulled back in shock. So cold. So horrifyingly, morbidly cold.
With a shaky hand, he reached out, placing his index and middle finger on the place on Mikey's neck where his pulse is. Was.
Gerard squeezed his eyes shut, praying that he just had the wrong place on the neck. He desperately grabbed Mikey's wrist, frantically trying to find a pulse. Nothing. Oh, God, nothing.
Grabbing Mikey's limp body and pulling it to his chest, Gerard wailed, "MIKEY!!! NOOOO!!!!!!!!!"
Then, his façade of calm crumbled and Gerard Way burst into tears, sobbing for his lost brother.
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Frank paused on the stairs as he noticed the trail of blood leading toward the choked sobs, just out of view.
Something about the room they were headed towards set off an alarm in his head. It was almost as if something bad had happened in there. Well, obviously something bad had happened in there just now, but the alarm was saying that something bad had happened to him.
So of course he stopped. This was a real problem because Ray and Bob had no warning, and ran straight into Frank who was leading them slowly down the stairs. This in turn led to Frank losing his balance, and him falling forward.
Ray, thankfully, had quick reflexes and grabbed Frank's arm with a gasp. Frank also gasped, grabbing Ray's arm in order to regain his balance. Straightening himself, Frank looked over the edge of the rail-less staircase, swallowing hard at the almost twenty-foot drop.
Grabbing Frank's chin, Ray made him look at him.
"Are you trying to kill yourself?" he hissed.
Frank smirked.
"Well, we're all on the Hindenburg. May as well not fight over a window seat."
Ray dropped his hold on Frank and looked away, trying not to laugh, especially since they really should be getting to Gerard and Mikey.
Lightly pushing Frank forward, Ray said, "We need to go to Gee and Mikey."
Frank nodded, trying to swallow the lump in his throat and not to choke on his thick-tongue.
So, down they went.
Reaching the bottom, Frank froze. The scene was all-too familiar, and it scared the heel out of him, especially since he had no recall of where the familiar-ness was coming from.
Ray lightly pushed him forward, urging him on. Frank shook his head wildly, and actually took a step back.
Bob said from behind, "You really wanna be left alone?"
Frank weighed the two options against each other, before silently latching onto Ray's arm. Ray looked at him, and nodded, continuing forward.
Since he was in front, Ray saw the sad sight before Frank and Bob.
The low, "Nooo...," that came from his throat alerted the other two men that the scene would be bad.
Frank craned his neck, and gasped.
The sight before him was absolutely heart breaking. Gerard was gripping the body tightly, rocking back and forth lightly as be bawled.
Repetitively, he sobbed, "Mikey, Mikey, Mikey...," in rhythm with his movement.
The broken older brother didn't even notice the three other men, and Frank suddenly felt like he was intruding. He knew Mikey, and suddenly, upon seeing this, the guitarist remembered.
He remembered everything. Sadness filled his heart and soul as he remembered Mikey and who he was. He also remembered everything else. It was as if a traumatic experience was needed to regain old memories. Frank only wished that something of this magnitude hadn't been needed for the re-awakening of his memories.
Retuning his attention to the grieving brother, Frank walked forward and kneeled next to Gerard.
Placing a hand on his shoulder, Frank looked at Gerard closely.
His cheeks were smeared with blood. Mikey's blood. His eyes were hollow-looking, but bright with tears.
He stared blankly ahead, clutching the corpse to his chest.
"Gerard...," Frank said.
Of course, he got no response. Frank only hoped that the no response would only be temporary.
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A/N- Was it a bad idea to kill off Mikey? If so, was the chapter otherwise good? Did you like it? Were the descriptions too lengthy? Tell me what you think! REVIEW!!! Oh, and the Hindenburg quote isn't owned by me.
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