The Paramour Sessions

Why? Why on earth would anyone want to live here? Oh sure, it would only be until the record was finished, but who would want to live here even for that short amount of time? Gerard would, because that was the kind of bizarre shit that he liked to do. He was getting way too wrapped up in the pure creepiness of The Black Parade. He wanted everything to be authentic, nothing less than absolutely genuine, for this record. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but this was a little much. If he was going for authentic fear, the Paramour Mansion really nailed it.

Mikey stared up in shock at the sheer size of the mansion. The pool alone, had more square footage than the home he and Gerard had grown up in. Looking at the pale brick walls and iron gates, he found it difficult to believe that there was a recording studio hidden somewhere inside. The gates opened with an ear splitting creak, causing Mikey to jump and drop his duffel bag. He cringed as he realized Gerard and Ray saw the whole thing.

"Mikes, you gotta calm down," Gerard laughed, picking the bag up for him.

"I don't know, it could've been worse. He could've screamed," Ray said, grinning from ear to ear. Mikey blushed, grabbing his bag quickly from his brother.

"I'm fine, no, I'm good. That was just...loud."

Gerard smiled to himself, but said nothing, for which Mikey was grateful. The brothers began to head up the driveway, followed by Ray and Frank, the latter of which did not look even remotely upset at their new, thankfully, temporary home. He appeared to be in a perpetual state of happiness, which wasn't unusual for him even considering their current circumstances.

"Wow, I can't believe we're going to be living here" Frank quipped.

"Me neither," Mikey muttered under his breath, earning him a whack on the back of the head from Gerard.

"I know, isn't it unbelievable?" Gerard wondered, ignoring his younger brother's glare.

"Yeah, it's super awesome, so many people died here, isn't that great?"

"Mikey, would you please relax? This place isn't actually haunted, that was just a legend started by locals looking to steal some tourists' money."

"Well, it's creepy, regardless." Gerard rolled his eyes.

"That is the point. We are trying to reinvent ourselves here, Mikey,"

"All right, all right, all right. I'll shut up, but I just want you to know that-"

"We know!" The other band members shouted. Mikey looked mildly surprised for a moment before laughing and shaking his head. Dragging his belongings behind him, he followed them inside.

The inside of the mansion appeared to be larger than the outside, although Mikey wasn't sure why. He set his suitcase and duffel bag down next to Ray's and surveyed the room. The furniture was covered with yellowing sheets, and the curtains looked decayed and moth eaten. The floor however, despite being covered in dust, appeared to be in pretty good shape. There was a massive fireplace against the far wall, facing the door. An elaborate wooden mantle surrounded it, looking oddly devoid of dust. A large painting lay against it, partially hidden behind a couch.

"See, look, this place isn't creepy. They've got this big ass angel painting protecting the house," Gerard said, smirking at Mikey.

Mikey looked at the painting. It was old, really old. An enormous angel stood front and center in the picture, reaching up towards the sky. Its wings flared out to the side, its hands were fully outstretched. It emanated light from a halo around its head. Down the other end, the sky seemed darker, reddish even. Mikey took another glance at the angel. It didn't look like it was protecting anybody, it looked almost afraid.

"Wait, what is that?" Mikey pointed to the bottom of the painting.

"What?" Frank asked.

"That thing, on its ankle, do you see that?" Mikey walked hesitantly over to the painting.

"What is that?" Gerard murmured.

"I don't know, Ray help me move this couch," Mikey said, grabbing one end. Ray lifted the other. Slowly, they shoved the couch out of the way. All four band members visibly recoiled at the rest of the painting.

"Holy shit," Gerard whispered.

Mikey stepped back, his jaw dropping. There, beneath the angel, wrapping a clawed hand around its ankle in a desperate attempt to drag it down, was a demon.

Notes