FicWad

Chapter Thirty-Six.

I couldn't breathe or hear anything as I finally stopped running after what seemed like a decade and collapsed into a door which fell open. I scrambled to my feet and closed it, creating a wooden barrier that hopefully they wouldn't find me behind. My eyes hurt and my legs felt weak, I just let them move me backwards, stumbling on the ground but still desperately silent.

My ankles hit something solid and I fell completely over it. Groaning only a little, I pulled myself round and rested my hands on the object. My skin felt more skin as my mind slowly pieced together that I had fallen over a body. Frank's body. And the skin was slippery, it felt wet.

It was cold.

'Don't scream, don't scream! Fuck sakes just don't you fucking dare to scream Michael James Way!' -my mind reeled desperately as I knew I'd be discovered if I were to let out the noise that my throat was pushing up but at the same time I couldn't accept the scene on front of me and I didn't know how to cope with it.

I pleaded with my mind as my blood sped it's flow to an almost deafening pace and my chest constricted as I felt my heart swell in fright and panic. My palms were sweating profusely with disgust as I tried to move them from Frank's cold skin. The perspiration causing the skin to slip and slide uncontrollably but I still couldn't pull them away from him. I was just too blinded by my panic. From the chase, from my horrible discovery...the tight feeling in my chest was being caused by too many things to count, from too many different directions.

"Oh don't worry he's not dead."

-at first I thought I'd imagined the voice. The source's volume was, naturally, far too hushed considering the sheer thumping of my heart and blood flow so I thought somehow I'd created it. But then I began to hope the voice was real as I once again glanced down to Frank's cool skin -my hands still glued hypnotically, as if latched.

'Please let him be alive!'.- I though desperately.

"Would you like him to be alive Michael?"

Again, I was breathing heavily and still wasn't sure whether or not I'd heard it for real. I looked around quickly, pain washing over my skull like the time Ray tried to put up some shelves in my apartment and hit me in the head with the hammer instead of hitting the nails, in search of the possible voice.

"I said, do you want him to be alive Michael?"

I'd halted my heavy breathing -although the fast internal paces continued, impossible to stop- and definitely heard those words. I wasn't imagining things. Frank could still be alive -although unmoving and freezing.

I nodded desperately in answer as I didn't trust my voice and I looked around again for where the voice was coming from.

But still my eyes couldn't find the source of the voice. The room was dark and my eyes were twitching in a random agony, my chest throbbing. I felt so confused. A much different confusion though to the one I'd become -unwillingly and annoyingly- accustomed to. This confusion made keeping my eyes open and my sight clear and not blurry extremely difficult.

Did I mention I was in immense pain?

"Over here Michael."

The voice taunted me but still I had no idea what direction it was coming from. I moved my head looking for the figure the voice belonged to, again feeling more waves of pain in my skull.

"No." they laughed, "Silly silly Michael. Always the little pawn in everyone's game. Never figuring out the answers until it's far too late. No wonder they picked you." They laughed again.

'What the hell were they on about?'

They sighed. "Dance Michael."

'What?'

"Dance...Michael!" they repeated.

Before I could move my head to look in another direction for their location, a loud noise sounded out and I yelped in surprise -the noise burning my throat. My ears ached badly and I felt a warm, but strangely cooling, sensation seep down from my left ear. Finally, I managed to prise my hands away from Frank's body to raise my fingers to my ear.

The dense liquid stuck to my finger tips, sticky, and I gagged as the smell of ear wax and blood mixed together sickeningly as I realised that my ear drum had burst.

"You aren't dancing Michael.....!" another loud shot rang out and I heard the voice laughing manically as my ears rang then went dead.

Silence.

Nothing.

I fell back as something collided with my shoulder. I could feel my jaw widen as I finally screamed, pushing the terror, confusion and agony out of my throat. But I heard nothing. I felt the noise vibrating against my tongue and cheeks and yet no sound reached my ears.


Again a collision of a cool metal against my body caused me to become even more dazed and my vision to distort yet more. I let my eyes close in defeat against all the swirling agonies and sensations and I forgot all about the voice now that I could no longer hear anything...anything at all.

That is, until a warm feeling of someone's hand on my forehead caused me to pull my eyelids up. What I saw was a darkened blur. But the more I looked and the more intently I concentrated -as much as it hurt- my sight began to clear and I could watch as their lips moved in a sneer.

However, just as their features were becoming distinguishable, a shadow moved across my face and suddenly all I could feel was intense pain in my temple.

"So what's this one called?" I asked Ray in a whispered -and slightly bored- tone, standing by the coffee machine in Gerard's apartment.

He sighed, "I don't know, but she's even more fucked up than the last one. She's hopeless."

I also sighed and held my fingers up to the bridge of my nose having to push my glasses down a bit to make it possible -briefly thinking, nervously, about how good it would be once I'd had the laser surgery to fix my eyes.

"Where did he find her?" I asked, although this whole routine had become so familiar I wasn't actually all that interested in knowing the answer.

Breaking off mine and Ray's whispered conversation, Gerard walked through the kitchen door carrying bloodied cotton wool pads and various blood soaked towels. He was frowning and I thought maybe he had overheard us talking.

He looked to me and then to Ray as he pulled the lid off the bin and sighed, "I found her at the side of the road, some bastard fucked her up real bad." he said and then began walking away, back to the bedroom where she could be heard crying steadily.

He paused at the doorway and turned back to glare at me and said "Her names Sara Hafferty...and she's not hopeless," he glared at Ray who shifted awkwardly before staring down into his lukewarm coffee, "...she just needs my help and she's gonna get it." his tone was definite and serious- I'd heard it all before.

He turned and entered the bedroom and I could picture his face switching from the glare that Ray and I apparently deserved, to a kind and sympathetic half smile as he took her on as his next project.

"Sara Hafferty..." both Ray and I said at the same time -testing the name on our tongues. We looked at each other and shared a sad smile.

Sara Hafferty.

Gerard's new fuck-up.

Hia, has been a long long time. Internet's been a little bitch and to be honest I hit a really really big metaphorical wall with this story. I don't know why but I did.
But anyhow: I enjoyed writing this although the story hasn't really moved forward any and it probably is clutching -desperately- at straws. I hope it didn't suck too bad.

Just in case it's not very clear: the last bit is a flashback that Mikey's having while he's unconscious [which is the fault of yet another mystery person] :)

Also, thank you so much everyone that have supported this story it means a lot. Cerediwen, MCR_dynamite, Silvana, Cutegirl, AlexSanDee, Pinkkissypetefreak, haley_homicide, crys_within_816, lady_venom_x and everyone else. Thank you!!!