Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Pirates of the Chemical Romance
He went ashore with half of the crew, while the others remained on the ship to guard it, with their lives if necessary. He was never fully certain he could trust them, but they had not let him down thus far. Currently he sat at the bow of one of the rowboats, staring into the near-complete darkness as if trying to pinpoint something.
The town lay quiet and unsuspecting ahead of them. It was one of many that thrived on the fish in its warm waters, and the people were grateful for any good fortunes that befell them. Its winters and summers were mild, which could account for the mansion of a summer home up on the hillside. It belonged to the country's royal family.
He hated them. Wealthy fools, all of them. The king and queen cared only for themselves, though they richly spoiled their only son. He lived a perfect life of luxury with never a thought to the rest of the world.
The boat came to an abrupt halt upon reaching the sandy shore, and he stepped off of it gracefully. He heard the others following him with about as much grace as a herd of elephants. It didn't matter, though. He only cared if they were successful.
They were at the very edge of the small town now. There were a few dim candles burning in the windows of some houses, while others remained dark. Several torches hung on the walls and illuminated the cobblestone street. Firelight glinted in his eyes and turned them amber.
He gave the order, and the anarchy began.
-
Screams rang out amidst the chaos, quickly drowned out with the sounds of gunshots and the occasional explosion. Fire spread from one house to the next like a contagious disease, and thick black smoke engulfed the people within. The men causing all the destruction made regular trips back to the waiting rowboats to deposit the valuables they had collected.
He remained in the alleyways and made his way up to the mansion. He could not risk his life as part of the chaos that had now taken control of the town. He moved swiftly and silently, his disguise making him look like any other fleeing victim. He stopped a smirk from crossing his face. He, a victim? How amusing.
He was closer to the mansion now, but there was a huge fight going on in front of it. He recognized several members of his crew at the center of the brawl. All of them fought back with exceptional skill, but they were outnumbered three to one. He decided to even the odds.
He leapt into the fray with sword drawn and fought his way to the gate of the mansion, taking out as many people as possible along the way. The crew looked upon him gratefully and tried to give him as much room as possible while still safeguarding their own lives and treasures.
No one saw the shadow creep up behind him. He realized a second too late that his life was in danger and was about to attack, but a single blow to the head sent him sprawling. The world swam before his eyes as he tried to maintain consciousness. He raised a hand to the back of his head in an attempt to ease the pain, pulling it away suddenly. His hand was completely covered in blood.
He crawled up the long pathway to the mansion. He would not give up that easily. He would not let them win. He wouldn't lose...
Everything went black.
-
"Are you mad? It's complete chaos out there!" The man stared into his son's eyes, begging him not to leave.
"I don't care; I have to find Princess." He turned away and ran outside. He called the purebred dog's name again and again, but heard nothing. Fear began to take over his heart; Princess never ignored him. Something must have happened to her.
Finally the dog approached him, and he sighed in relief. But she just as quickly scampered away from him, stopping after a few feet to bark at him. He walked toward her, but she jumped away again just as he got close. Then he realized the dog wanted him to follow her.
She led him closer and closer to the gate of the mansion, finally stopping at a dark figure obstructing the pathway. He gasped when he saw that it was a person, and felt under his neck for a pulse. He sighed in relief. At least the person was still alive.
He took a sweeping glance of the small town, which was quickly becoming engulfed in flames. He started coughing, and immediately knelt low to the ground. He wouldn't be of much use if he died of smoke inhalation.
He dragged the unconscious man back up to the mansion, trying to be as careful as possible. He ignored the fact that he was quickly becoming covered in dirt and blood. Princess licked the coagulating wound on the back of the person's head as if trying to help. By the time he reached the front door, he felt ready to collapse.
He managed to get inside. His mother gasped in shock.
"Michael, what happened to you? You're bleeding!" He shook his head, breathing heavily from exhaustion.
"No, I'm fine. But he's not," he added, glancing back at the unconscious man. He was barely breathing.
His father carried the man inside and into the guest room as if he weighed nothing at all and gently placed him on the bed. Michael entered the room, trying to see if there was anything he could do to help. He knelt by the man's head and removed his worn hat, seeing his snow-white hair matted with blood at the site of the wound. He was finally able to get a look at the man's face, but he frowned when he saw a cloth tied over his nose and mouth. It almost looked like some kind of mask. He untied the strong knot at the back of his head, seeing that it was soaked in blood, and dropped the cloth to the ground.
He gasped upon seeing his brother's face.
The town lay quiet and unsuspecting ahead of them. It was one of many that thrived on the fish in its warm waters, and the people were grateful for any good fortunes that befell them. Its winters and summers were mild, which could account for the mansion of a summer home up on the hillside. It belonged to the country's royal family.
He hated them. Wealthy fools, all of them. The king and queen cared only for themselves, though they richly spoiled their only son. He lived a perfect life of luxury with never a thought to the rest of the world.
The boat came to an abrupt halt upon reaching the sandy shore, and he stepped off of it gracefully. He heard the others following him with about as much grace as a herd of elephants. It didn't matter, though. He only cared if they were successful.
They were at the very edge of the small town now. There were a few dim candles burning in the windows of some houses, while others remained dark. Several torches hung on the walls and illuminated the cobblestone street. Firelight glinted in his eyes and turned them amber.
He gave the order, and the anarchy began.
-
Screams rang out amidst the chaos, quickly drowned out with the sounds of gunshots and the occasional explosion. Fire spread from one house to the next like a contagious disease, and thick black smoke engulfed the people within. The men causing all the destruction made regular trips back to the waiting rowboats to deposit the valuables they had collected.
He remained in the alleyways and made his way up to the mansion. He could not risk his life as part of the chaos that had now taken control of the town. He moved swiftly and silently, his disguise making him look like any other fleeing victim. He stopped a smirk from crossing his face. He, a victim? How amusing.
He was closer to the mansion now, but there was a huge fight going on in front of it. He recognized several members of his crew at the center of the brawl. All of them fought back with exceptional skill, but they were outnumbered three to one. He decided to even the odds.
He leapt into the fray with sword drawn and fought his way to the gate of the mansion, taking out as many people as possible along the way. The crew looked upon him gratefully and tried to give him as much room as possible while still safeguarding their own lives and treasures.
No one saw the shadow creep up behind him. He realized a second too late that his life was in danger and was about to attack, but a single blow to the head sent him sprawling. The world swam before his eyes as he tried to maintain consciousness. He raised a hand to the back of his head in an attempt to ease the pain, pulling it away suddenly. His hand was completely covered in blood.
He crawled up the long pathway to the mansion. He would not give up that easily. He would not let them win. He wouldn't lose...
Everything went black.
-
"Are you mad? It's complete chaos out there!" The man stared into his son's eyes, begging him not to leave.
"I don't care; I have to find Princess." He turned away and ran outside. He called the purebred dog's name again and again, but heard nothing. Fear began to take over his heart; Princess never ignored him. Something must have happened to her.
Finally the dog approached him, and he sighed in relief. But she just as quickly scampered away from him, stopping after a few feet to bark at him. He walked toward her, but she jumped away again just as he got close. Then he realized the dog wanted him to follow her.
She led him closer and closer to the gate of the mansion, finally stopping at a dark figure obstructing the pathway. He gasped when he saw that it was a person, and felt under his neck for a pulse. He sighed in relief. At least the person was still alive.
He took a sweeping glance of the small town, which was quickly becoming engulfed in flames. He started coughing, and immediately knelt low to the ground. He wouldn't be of much use if he died of smoke inhalation.
He dragged the unconscious man back up to the mansion, trying to be as careful as possible. He ignored the fact that he was quickly becoming covered in dirt and blood. Princess licked the coagulating wound on the back of the person's head as if trying to help. By the time he reached the front door, he felt ready to collapse.
He managed to get inside. His mother gasped in shock.
"Michael, what happened to you? You're bleeding!" He shook his head, breathing heavily from exhaustion.
"No, I'm fine. But he's not," he added, glancing back at the unconscious man. He was barely breathing.
His father carried the man inside and into the guest room as if he weighed nothing at all and gently placed him on the bed. Michael entered the room, trying to see if there was anything he could do to help. He knelt by the man's head and removed his worn hat, seeing his snow-white hair matted with blood at the site of the wound. He was finally able to get a look at the man's face, but he frowned when he saw a cloth tied over his nose and mouth. It almost looked like some kind of mask. He untied the strong knot at the back of his head, seeing that it was soaked in blood, and dropped the cloth to the ground.
He gasped upon seeing his brother's face.
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