This Is Halloween (Frerard)
This is Halloween
There is a town known as Halloween, where pumpkins scream in the dead of the night. When the darkness settles in a small corner of New Jersey, the monsters emerge for one pence of the year, in their true form. Bats howl and chirp up at the bright Thursday moon, while wolves bones crack and slide into place, making their shoulder wider, snouts longer, and paws bigger. Vampires fangs unleash, and they leave their parasols on the chaise at home, sweeping the streets freely looking for a Hallow's Eve snack. But the scariest of all wasn’t the vampires, the werewolves, or the big green boogie man, no - it was Frank, the Pumpkin King.
Frank was the pride of their pumpkin patch, only sweeping into the town’s lights on his birthday each year, showing his subjects all he had prepared for that evening. It was that towns job to scare up a good storm in Jersey, and Frank was who made it happen.
~
“Wow, that was probably the best one yet!” crooned the small vampire, Jamia, at Frank. He gave her a sidelong look.
“You aren’t suppose to be out at your age." He said, tucking a price of black hair behind his ear. He could smell the flesh stuck between her baby teeth and it made him want to hurl. "This night is for those of age."
Before she could respond, a violet ghoul swept in front of the King, his irises glowing menacingly. "Now, now. Lets not pester the poor king, he is only one man." The ghoul placed his hands through Jamia's shoulders, "leave him be."
"How convincing, Gabe." Frank was wiping the green slime off his suit from the fountain when he noticed a quick flash of red from behind a stone wall. Peculiar, he thought, before he started to say goodbye to his friends and foes of the supernatural kind. "See you next year."
No one picked up the sadness lacing his voice, but instead waved at him, and called out compliments of his work in another great Halloween. He would have been happy if not for everyone neglecting the fact that it was his Twentieth birthday today, not just a celebration of the day he took his father's place as the Pumpkin King, nor the silly holiday humans felt the need to celebrate. Frank walked slowly back to his house, the crunch of bone marrow and gravel under his leather boots, his pinstripe suit no longer crisp, and the broach on his neck smeared from fingerprints. As he rounded the corner to his front gate, he didn't see the person standing in front of it.
"Oh - shit. I am so..." the person started to say before looking up. "Fuck. You're the-"
"Pumpkin King, yes I noticed." Frank said snottily. He finally looked up, and every crude comment he was about to spew caught in his throat.
The man before him had dark unnaturally red hair, about to his shoulders. It curled around the nape of his neck, which looked soft next to the light grey skin it rested on. Faded stitch marks followed the trail from his thin pink lips, up to his ears, and another one on his upper right cheek. Huge green eyes framed with black lashes, and it looked like permanent eyeliner which made his irises glow in the moonlight. "Hi I'm Gerard." The man said, smiling oddly.
"What are you?" Frank couldn't help himself when the question popped out from his mouth.
Gerard blinked, "I'm not human, exactly. But I was restitched together from my old body," he looked down at the ground nervously, his red stringy hair shielding his face. “I’m not allowed to come out during Halloween,” he finished, pulling at the hem of his patchwork t-shirt.
“Well, why I don’t suppose why you shouldn’t be able to…” Frank said timidly, placing a hand on Gerard’s shoulder, “Come out and play with the rest of us?”
Gerard shook his head, “You don’t understand. You wouldn’t, really.” he pulled away from Frank’s grasp, “I’m sorry for being such a burden.” he walked a few feet away, leaving Frank bewildered and confused, before turning and saying - “Farewell, Pumpkin King,” he smirked, “- and Happy Birthday.” Frank watched the red head walk away towards a small house down the hill, feeling like he had lost something, done something he shouldn’t have.
~
When Gerard turned the corner towards his house, he pressed up against the stone wall, sinking to the dead grass. I’m so dumb, he thought, picking at a stitch in his arm. He should have never left the lab, shouldnt have mixed nightshade in Mikey’s soup, leaving him on the kitchen table, his dinner still dripping off the edge onto the wood floor. Stupid slotted spoon, he should have just used the regular one and killed himself right there and then. Spying on the Pumpkin King of all people? He could have had easily flicked his eyes another way and observed the other creatures of the night dance around the fountain, but now he was mortally embarrassed sitting in his yard soaked to his foliage core. He needed new stuffing, he realized, he could feel the leaves starting to start molding inside his stitching. Gerard sobbed.
“And will we ever end up together?” he said into the night, “No, I think not, it's never to become…for I am not the one.” he cried into his spindly fingers.
~
Frank walked back and forth on his balcony, peering at the house near the cemetery, Gerard. He thought it was peculiar that his family had lived inside the abandoned mansion, for hundreds of years, and yet no one suspected a thing. No one had noticed him pacing above the city in the shadows, his ghostly dog Sweet Pea wisping around his heel, no, they thought he was living in the pumpkin patch at the end of west street, surrounded by weeping willows. They actually believed that bullcrap story of him being born from pumpkins, I mean seriously, how do they think his mother and father got around? They weren’t creatures of the plants, they were creatures of the dead, made from the dead. He was dead, kind of like a zombie except he smelled like marigolds, sugar skulls, and molé. And he didn’t bleed, or die (not die, retire) until he chose to. He didn’t age past twenty-one, and he still ate food. He was practically human.
“Sweet pea?” he cooed at the whisper of a dog that was curled up into her wool bed. She raised her head up, “Let’s go to Gerard’s house.” he said softly, shivering at his decision.
~
When they arrived at the small little house, Frank was really nervous. His hand hovered over the door before knocking a few times. He’d changed out of his suit, and wiped his makeup off. Now he was just wearing jeans and a Misfits sweater, and his chuck taylors. He could hear faint shuffling from behind the wood before he saw a small pointy nose peek around the door, “Who is it?” Frank shuffled around nervously.
“It’s, uh, Frank?”
The door swung open wide, and Gerard was standing there in sweatpants and another weird patchwork shirt. His hair was standing up everywhere, and he had sleep in his eyes. “Woah, what are you doing here?”
Frank smiled, timidly. “Uh, well, my dearest stranger, if it isn’t a bother, I'd like to join you by your side, where we could look into the stars...and...just -”
“Yes.” Gerard jumped out of the house, slamming the door. “Yes, please yes.”
~
“I used to watch you, before.” Gerard said, once they were settled down in the grass in the graveyard. Frank looked over at him, smiling.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
That sat in silence for awhile, watching the stars move across the sky, before Frank leaned up on one elbow. “What were you...before?”
“An artist.” Gerard replied, quietly. “That’s all I remember besides being slashed into pieces by one of your werewolves.”
“My werewolves?” Frank cried, “They would never do that.” Gerard sighed, and turned on his side in the dewy grass. HIs hair was wet at the tips, and falling into his glossy green eyes.
“It was almost a hundred years ago, Frank. Of course they have better habits now.”
Frank scooted on the ground closer to Gerard, fitting his face into his neck, breathing hot breaths onto the grey skin there. It’s making Gerard shiver involuntarily, his stitches loosening. Frank was rubbing his nose up and down Gerard’s adams apple when Gerard started to hum something. “What are you singing?” he grumbled sleepily into the lemony warm skin of Gee’s neck.
“Nothing special.”
Frank smiled, before pulling away to look in Gerard’s eyes, “How did I never notice you before? I feel like i've known you my whole life.”
“Yes well, I never gave you the chance.”
Frank flopped back down onto his back, folding his hands on his chest. He can see the tops of gravestones over the tip of his tan nose, when he hears somebody sigh beside him. “Well, why not?” he says slowly, quietly, to himself.
“You would ha-”
Frank cuts him off, “ - for its plain, as anyone can see, we're simply meant to be.”
Gerard leans over, and kisses him full on the lips, tasting Frank, and their tongues turn into a jumble of fall leaves, lemon, candy skulls, and marigold pollen.
s i m p l y m e a n t t o b e.
Frank was the pride of their pumpkin patch, only sweeping into the town’s lights on his birthday each year, showing his subjects all he had prepared for that evening. It was that towns job to scare up a good storm in Jersey, and Frank was who made it happen.
~
“Wow, that was probably the best one yet!” crooned the small vampire, Jamia, at Frank. He gave her a sidelong look.
“You aren’t suppose to be out at your age." He said, tucking a price of black hair behind his ear. He could smell the flesh stuck between her baby teeth and it made him want to hurl. "This night is for those of age."
Before she could respond, a violet ghoul swept in front of the King, his irises glowing menacingly. "Now, now. Lets not pester the poor king, he is only one man." The ghoul placed his hands through Jamia's shoulders, "leave him be."
"How convincing, Gabe." Frank was wiping the green slime off his suit from the fountain when he noticed a quick flash of red from behind a stone wall. Peculiar, he thought, before he started to say goodbye to his friends and foes of the supernatural kind. "See you next year."
No one picked up the sadness lacing his voice, but instead waved at him, and called out compliments of his work in another great Halloween. He would have been happy if not for everyone neglecting the fact that it was his Twentieth birthday today, not just a celebration of the day he took his father's place as the Pumpkin King, nor the silly holiday humans felt the need to celebrate. Frank walked slowly back to his house, the crunch of bone marrow and gravel under his leather boots, his pinstripe suit no longer crisp, and the broach on his neck smeared from fingerprints. As he rounded the corner to his front gate, he didn't see the person standing in front of it.
"Oh - shit. I am so..." the person started to say before looking up. "Fuck. You're the-"
"Pumpkin King, yes I noticed." Frank said snottily. He finally looked up, and every crude comment he was about to spew caught in his throat.
The man before him had dark unnaturally red hair, about to his shoulders. It curled around the nape of his neck, which looked soft next to the light grey skin it rested on. Faded stitch marks followed the trail from his thin pink lips, up to his ears, and another one on his upper right cheek. Huge green eyes framed with black lashes, and it looked like permanent eyeliner which made his irises glow in the moonlight. "Hi I'm Gerard." The man said, smiling oddly.
"What are you?" Frank couldn't help himself when the question popped out from his mouth.
Gerard blinked, "I'm not human, exactly. But I was restitched together from my old body," he looked down at the ground nervously, his red stringy hair shielding his face. “I’m not allowed to come out during Halloween,” he finished, pulling at the hem of his patchwork t-shirt.
“Well, why I don’t suppose why you shouldn’t be able to…” Frank said timidly, placing a hand on Gerard’s shoulder, “Come out and play with the rest of us?”
Gerard shook his head, “You don’t understand. You wouldn’t, really.” he pulled away from Frank’s grasp, “I’m sorry for being such a burden.” he walked a few feet away, leaving Frank bewildered and confused, before turning and saying - “Farewell, Pumpkin King,” he smirked, “- and Happy Birthday.” Frank watched the red head walk away towards a small house down the hill, feeling like he had lost something, done something he shouldn’t have.
~
When Gerard turned the corner towards his house, he pressed up against the stone wall, sinking to the dead grass. I’m so dumb, he thought, picking at a stitch in his arm. He should have never left the lab, shouldnt have mixed nightshade in Mikey’s soup, leaving him on the kitchen table, his dinner still dripping off the edge onto the wood floor. Stupid slotted spoon, he should have just used the regular one and killed himself right there and then. Spying on the Pumpkin King of all people? He could have had easily flicked his eyes another way and observed the other creatures of the night dance around the fountain, but now he was mortally embarrassed sitting in his yard soaked to his foliage core. He needed new stuffing, he realized, he could feel the leaves starting to start molding inside his stitching. Gerard sobbed.
“And will we ever end up together?” he said into the night, “No, I think not, it's never to become…for I am not the one.” he cried into his spindly fingers.
~
Frank walked back and forth on his balcony, peering at the house near the cemetery, Gerard. He thought it was peculiar that his family had lived inside the abandoned mansion, for hundreds of years, and yet no one suspected a thing. No one had noticed him pacing above the city in the shadows, his ghostly dog Sweet Pea wisping around his heel, no, they thought he was living in the pumpkin patch at the end of west street, surrounded by weeping willows. They actually believed that bullcrap story of him being born from pumpkins, I mean seriously, how do they think his mother and father got around? They weren’t creatures of the plants, they were creatures of the dead, made from the dead. He was dead, kind of like a zombie except he smelled like marigolds, sugar skulls, and molé. And he didn’t bleed, or die (not die, retire) until he chose to. He didn’t age past twenty-one, and he still ate food. He was practically human.
“Sweet pea?” he cooed at the whisper of a dog that was curled up into her wool bed. She raised her head up, “Let’s go to Gerard’s house.” he said softly, shivering at his decision.
~
When they arrived at the small little house, Frank was really nervous. His hand hovered over the door before knocking a few times. He’d changed out of his suit, and wiped his makeup off. Now he was just wearing jeans and a Misfits sweater, and his chuck taylors. He could hear faint shuffling from behind the wood before he saw a small pointy nose peek around the door, “Who is it?” Frank shuffled around nervously.
“It’s, uh, Frank?”
The door swung open wide, and Gerard was standing there in sweatpants and another weird patchwork shirt. His hair was standing up everywhere, and he had sleep in his eyes. “Woah, what are you doing here?”
Frank smiled, timidly. “Uh, well, my dearest stranger, if it isn’t a bother, I'd like to join you by your side, where we could look into the stars...and...just -”
“Yes.” Gerard jumped out of the house, slamming the door. “Yes, please yes.”
~
“I used to watch you, before.” Gerard said, once they were settled down in the grass in the graveyard. Frank looked over at him, smiling.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
That sat in silence for awhile, watching the stars move across the sky, before Frank leaned up on one elbow. “What were you...before?”
“An artist.” Gerard replied, quietly. “That’s all I remember besides being slashed into pieces by one of your werewolves.”
“My werewolves?” Frank cried, “They would never do that.” Gerard sighed, and turned on his side in the dewy grass. HIs hair was wet at the tips, and falling into his glossy green eyes.
“It was almost a hundred years ago, Frank. Of course they have better habits now.”
Frank scooted on the ground closer to Gerard, fitting his face into his neck, breathing hot breaths onto the grey skin there. It’s making Gerard shiver involuntarily, his stitches loosening. Frank was rubbing his nose up and down Gerard’s adams apple when Gerard started to hum something. “What are you singing?” he grumbled sleepily into the lemony warm skin of Gee’s neck.
“Nothing special.”
Frank smiled, before pulling away to look in Gerard’s eyes, “How did I never notice you before? I feel like i've known you my whole life.”
“Yes well, I never gave you the chance.”
Frank flopped back down onto his back, folding his hands on his chest. He can see the tops of gravestones over the tip of his tan nose, when he hears somebody sigh beside him. “Well, why not?” he says slowly, quietly, to himself.
“You would ha-”
Frank cuts him off, “ - for its plain, as anyone can see, we're simply meant to be.”
Gerard leans over, and kisses him full on the lips, tasting Frank, and their tongues turn into a jumble of fall leaves, lemon, candy skulls, and marigold pollen.
s i m p l y m e a n t t o b e.
Notes
I promised you guys a Frerard Halloween Fic.HAPPY IEROWEEN!
Lovelies,
XoXo Sage
BLESS U
10/5/16