Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Tragic Tale of The Black Parade
...For Sweet Revenge
1 reviewChapter 9. Make sure you read the one before this, or it won't make sense!
1Moving
He smirked as the band reached a quieter section of their first song.
"When the song comes back in, I want you all to jump!" screeched the lead singer into the microphone. His voice deepened as he spoke, sounding demonic and inhuman, but the crowd didn't seem to care. They joined him on every word.
"Quite literally, they would all jump when I said 'jump'," said the pale-haired man with a sad sigh. "I miss having that kind of power."
"What are you talking about?" the patient asked in disbelief. "Of course you have power." The man laughed darkly as he watched his younger counterpart jump around onstage.
"Not this kind of power. Here everyone loved it. We were one mass of ecstatic people singing along to each other. The feeling was...infectious.../electrifying/, even..." Nostalgia filled his eyes for a moment before the corners of his mouth turned down.
"But now...now all I seem to do is cause people pain." He glanced sideways at the patient. "You, for instance," he added listlessly, turning back to watch the stage as the next song began. His younger self was screaming the words without using a melody at all. The other band members seemed to be infected with the dark energy as well, acting as insane as their leader.
"Why are you crying?" the patient asked quietly. The black-clad man briskly brushed away the tears. Now was not the time.
"This is painful for me, but I know I must do it," he responded, almost speaking to himself. "As I said before, you will soon see why." His voice quavered with the words. The patient had a difficult time believing the sight was real. A man of seemingly limitless power stood next to him, trying to quell his own sobs of unending pain. The leader who had once been in complete control was now at the mercy of his own emotions and memories.
The patient felt something then. A heat was beginning to fill his heart, and an evil feeling came with it. He had felt like this during most, if not all, of this journey through the furthest recesses of his mind. There were several times he had wondered what it would be like for the leader to experience the same kind of pain.
"Now you know how I feel," he muttered to himself. He hadn't meant to speak his mind.
"What?" the leader asked in horror, not even trying to stop his tears now. He looked at the patient, who was studying the performance carefully.
"I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"
"No," came the firm voice. "Do not speak to me. Watch." He spoke through gritted teeth. The patient obediently went silent, internally chiding himself for his actions. That could have cost him his future. He kept his eyes locked on the scene unfolding before him.
"This song is about the hardest drive we've ever had to take!" the singer cried as the drummer laid out the beat for the next song. He sang with every ounce of pain in his heart, and the crowd loved it.
-
"And we're all...dead...now." He let the last note fall into the screams of the crowd and looked to the sky, taking it all in. His black hair fell away from his face, exposing his pale skin to the bright lights.
There was a sharp explosion of sound that brought complete silence. The singer stared out at the crowd with suddenly soulless eyes as red blood blossomed through his black shirt, though none could see it. He dropped the microphone to the stage and collapsed forward onto his knees. For a moment he wanted to speak, to tell them everything they needed to hear, but his energy flickered out like a candle. He fell flat, head turned sideways to look at his older counterpart with hazel eyes frozen in shock and fear. There was but a split second more of silence before the mad rush came. His younger brother nearly threw his guitar to the ground as he ran to the singer's aid. The crowd flooded past the barriers meant to keep the band safe and crawled on top of each other to get onto the stage, all screaming and crying at once. But his life had ended, and he knew it.
"Are you happy now?" the leader asked the patient with closed eyes. His tone was bitter. The patient could not respond. He felt as though he had died all over again.
"You've gotten your sweet revenge."
"When the song comes back in, I want you all to jump!" screeched the lead singer into the microphone. His voice deepened as he spoke, sounding demonic and inhuman, but the crowd didn't seem to care. They joined him on every word.
"Quite literally, they would all jump when I said 'jump'," said the pale-haired man with a sad sigh. "I miss having that kind of power."
"What are you talking about?" the patient asked in disbelief. "Of course you have power." The man laughed darkly as he watched his younger counterpart jump around onstage.
"Not this kind of power. Here everyone loved it. We were one mass of ecstatic people singing along to each other. The feeling was...infectious.../electrifying/, even..." Nostalgia filled his eyes for a moment before the corners of his mouth turned down.
"But now...now all I seem to do is cause people pain." He glanced sideways at the patient. "You, for instance," he added listlessly, turning back to watch the stage as the next song began. His younger self was screaming the words without using a melody at all. The other band members seemed to be infected with the dark energy as well, acting as insane as their leader.
"Why are you crying?" the patient asked quietly. The black-clad man briskly brushed away the tears. Now was not the time.
"This is painful for me, but I know I must do it," he responded, almost speaking to himself. "As I said before, you will soon see why." His voice quavered with the words. The patient had a difficult time believing the sight was real. A man of seemingly limitless power stood next to him, trying to quell his own sobs of unending pain. The leader who had once been in complete control was now at the mercy of his own emotions and memories.
The patient felt something then. A heat was beginning to fill his heart, and an evil feeling came with it. He had felt like this during most, if not all, of this journey through the furthest recesses of his mind. There were several times he had wondered what it would be like for the leader to experience the same kind of pain.
"Now you know how I feel," he muttered to himself. He hadn't meant to speak his mind.
"What?" the leader asked in horror, not even trying to stop his tears now. He looked at the patient, who was studying the performance carefully.
"I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"
"No," came the firm voice. "Do not speak to me. Watch." He spoke through gritted teeth. The patient obediently went silent, internally chiding himself for his actions. That could have cost him his future. He kept his eyes locked on the scene unfolding before him.
"This song is about the hardest drive we've ever had to take!" the singer cried as the drummer laid out the beat for the next song. He sang with every ounce of pain in his heart, and the crowd loved it.
-
"And we're all...dead...now." He let the last note fall into the screams of the crowd and looked to the sky, taking it all in. His black hair fell away from his face, exposing his pale skin to the bright lights.
There was a sharp explosion of sound that brought complete silence. The singer stared out at the crowd with suddenly soulless eyes as red blood blossomed through his black shirt, though none could see it. He dropped the microphone to the stage and collapsed forward onto his knees. For a moment he wanted to speak, to tell them everything they needed to hear, but his energy flickered out like a candle. He fell flat, head turned sideways to look at his older counterpart with hazel eyes frozen in shock and fear. There was but a split second more of silence before the mad rush came. His younger brother nearly threw his guitar to the ground as he ran to the singer's aid. The crowd flooded past the barriers meant to keep the band safe and crawled on top of each other to get onto the stage, all screaming and crying at once. But his life had ended, and he knew it.
"Are you happy now?" the leader asked the patient with closed eyes. His tone was bitter. The patient could not respond. He felt as though he had died all over again.
"You've gotten your sweet revenge."
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