FicWad

DAMN writer's block! DAMN it to hell!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!... I think am over it now (hope so anyways). So here we go......:)

*Flashback*
The small office that the two hushed figures now stood in was silent and dark. They were waiting for the safest time to begin their whisperings of a treacherous, secret conversation, a conversation that, if overheard, would lead to their swift and unquestioned deaths.

It was a risk them meeting here tonight inside the walls of the people they wished to over throw and betray. This was a meeting in the white house. This was the meeting before the planning, the meeting where all the details would be sorted. And tonight was the only night where both involved peoples' schedules would allow the meeting to go ahead. A great inconvenience as it put a very major restriction on the time they had for discussion and it also made them more likely to be caught before the plan had even been set in motion.

But nonetheless, Michael Krafton was now standing before a medical and scientific genius who held the potential to make, not only the Whitehouse but, the world belong to Michael, the president of America's chief advisor.

"Dr. Iero, we have to make this quick so they don't become suspicious of your absence from the dinner table. Will you be able to help me?" Krafton asked the doctor before him.

Dr. Iero was invited to the Whitehouse for dinner this evening in celebration of the opening of the new mental institution in New Jersey.

In the darkness of the wood-panelled office Mark Iero drew in a breath before pausing as if thinking, "Yes." He finally said. "My wife and I have discussed it and we are willing to donate our currant project to your needs for the agreed sum." He added.

"Of course, of course Dr. Iero. $5 billion plus funds for extra equipment and for running experiments." Krafton whisperingly agreed in relief and inward excitement -he'd finally be president as apposed to advising that daft fucker.

The men stood in silence once more, holding their breath desperately, as they heard footsteps pass the door of the darkened room they were congregated in. When he felt it was safe, Krafton asked the question that had been reeling about in his mind ever since he had been directed to Dr. Iero for help.
"What is your project?"

Mark sighed softly to himself; he had no intention of giving that information out, "All you need to know Michael is that she will carry out your needs perfectly." He smiled in the dark.

"See Dr. Iero, I don't agree. I think I should know a hell of a lot more considering the price I'm paying for...her? What do you mean her?" Mark Iero could picture the confused face that Krafton was now wearing perfectly.

"Yes. Her." He laughed lightly, "The project is a human, or at least will be once we are done. Now that really is all you need to know Michael."

Krafton was beginning to get angry; he was investing money in this man and his 'project' and yet he wasn't allowed to know what exactly he was giving his money to.
"I want to know or else you won't get the funding for experimenting!" he demanded confidently to the doctor who laughed straight away...

"I think you should understand, Michael, that you are the only one that will lose out there. I don't need your money to make my project a success; I already have quite a large financial following. More of a cult actually..." he taunted.

"Oh really? Well then why are you willing to make this deal with me?" Krafton spat back venomously.

"Because this will speed up the process, having funding readily available. And also, without you, I wouldn't get the recognition I deserve which I know you will give me as soon as you take power from the president." Mark whispered his answer while walking cockily towards the door to the office...

"Plus, Krafton, the president doesn't deserve all the power he has. He's a twat..."

Krafton laughed but then regained his seriousness, not wanting Dr. Iero to think he had control over the whole situation, "And I, Dr. Iero, think you should realise I'm not the only person in the Whitehouse that isn't backing the president. I also have quite a strong following, a following that won't hesitate to kill you if you wrong me."

Mark Iero involuntarily gulped from his position by the door, his reaction pleasing to Krafton who continued, playing with the man that no longer felt superior, "But that's no fun. Is it Mark? No. If you wrong me, or mess up, I'll have you and your wife locked away in one of the cells of your award-winning new institute."

Krafton laughed to himself as Mark once again swallowed nervously; he knew the sick experiments that were carried out on the patients. After all, he was one of the ones responsible for them...


Marion Iero was pacing the floor of the lab completely oblivious to being watched by her son. When the bleep had bound through the room signalling the acceptance of the access key card, she had been too wrapped up in thoughts of what Krafton would do to her and her husband if they couldn't find Mikey.

Frank was standing just in front of the entrance to the lab watching her closely. For the past eighteen years he had hated her guts thinking of her as an unemotive and evil 'thing', but now she looked human. Emotions were clearly evident in her pained expression as she chewed on her short nails and muttered to herself while pacing.

Belle, the poor girl who they took like they took Mikey and so many others to make into their little scientific 'projects', was still lying in her metal-framed bed like she had been when he visited here at the age of fifteen. But this time, her face was definitely there and there were a lot less tubes and wires travelling to her.
In the past three years, many samples had been added to her making her less dependant on the machines which had then given her her facial features back (when they removed her own human, totally independent and strong-willed mind from within her skull, the facial features had disintegrated to nothing. But now they were back).

Belle's mother was still in the same state; drool running from her tortured lips and agony filled face. She was rocking back and forth in the corner of the room staring blackly at the body that used to be her little Belle but was now an evil prop to be used in an unjust game of control.

As each sight filtered into Frank's mind, his hatred for his mother returned to him and instinctively he travelled forwards towards the library of test tubes. With Marion still pacing and wrapped up in her troubled mind he began to pull the rows apart, smashing the glass on the cold floor viciously.

With the sudden noise, Marion looked up terrified that Krafton's gang of corrupt government workers were here to kill her. What she saw shocked her even more.
"Frank! What the hell are you doing??" she screamed running to him to stop his destructive behaviour.

"Stay away from me Bitch!" he yelled back throwing several of the glass tubes at her angrily before deciding it would be more effective to pull the whole lot of shelves down at once.

Marion ran quickly from the area her son was destroying, tears running down her face as the realisation of the fact that many years of work had just been lost hit her making her vomit ferociously onto the lab floor. She scrambled towards a desk, her white coat trailing what was previously the content of her stomach, reaching into the middle drawer and rummaging blindly in it as Frank continued to devastate her life's work...

When the doorbell had rung shortly after he hung up the phone with the president's chief advisor, Krafton, Mark Iero had briefly thought it would be the swat team coming swiftly to either kill him and his wife or help find Mikey.
Now, walking back from having a pointless conversation with his elderly next-door neighbour, Mrs Patrick, he had to laugh at his stupidity.

However, swiping his key card and entering the lab, all hilarity and humour disappeared as a gunshot ran through the air...

oooh! Who got shot??????
Well, yeah so...let us no what yez think (iv yez want of course) :)
Cries It's almost over :(