Desolation Row

Frank wandered through the winding corridors of the derelict building. The smell of damp hung in the air as water dripped from the overhanging pipes; forming small puddles on the pale, concrete floor. He had never been here before nor did he have any idea as to how he got here. He crept through the building, passing boarded up windows andvarious broken bits of furniture which littered the halls as he looked for a way out; passing. “Hello?” He called out as he pushed through the double doors at the end of the corridor. The dim lights flickered above his head, sending a chill down his spine as something caught his eye. He looked up, his mouth dropped open in horror as he suddenly realised where he was. High above his head was a plaque fixed against the yellowing wall of the building. Cut deep into the centre of it, were the words Welcome to Bedlam Mental Institute.

Frank froze to the spot; a million questions penetrated his mind in a blind panic. “How the fuck did I get here?” “Am I going insane?” “What the fuck is going on?” these thoughts raced through his head as he stared helplessly at the plaque. Something crashed behind him. He spun round only to find a wheelchair wheeling to the centre of the hall, slowing to a halt. The lights flickered around him; fear coursing through his veins as he quickly looked in all directions, sensing that he was no longer alone. He looked back up the hall, eyes widening with fear as his eyes locked upon the double doors at the end.

At the end of the corridor, upon the dirt stained doubled doors, painted in what looked like blood, was a single word. The word seemed to beckon at Frank, who had covered his mouth in a bid to stop himself from screaming.

RUN

He complied, stumbling backwards as he turned, darting towards the door marked EXIT. Panic began to rise in throat as ran for the door; suppressing the urge to call out for help. The lights began to switch off, one by one as if the darkness was chasing frank through the ward; trying to wrap its cold dead hands around his skinny little body and snatch him away into the abyss.

He kept running, the darkness catching up with him as reached out, wrapping his pale fingers around the cold metal of the door handle before pushing it open. As the lights went out behind him, he quickly shut the door; pressing his forehead against the plastic frame. The cold air edged its way through a small broken window in the far corner of the room and the cracks within the walls; the room seeming to breathe him. Outside, he could see that darkness had fallen. A full moon, shone brightly down from the blackened skies, spotlighting him in its beautiful, majestic light. He looked down, spotting the stairs which led downwards, deeper into the unknown darkness. He shuddered, the very thought of going down there chilled him to the very core. There was a sudden tapping sound from behind him. He spun round to face the door, his mouth gaping open in terror as the tapping sound growing louder. “I can hear you Frank” a voice whispered from the other side, giggling as it continued to tap at the door. Frank turned and ran down the stairs, his heart thudding in his chest. He raced down the stairs, the stench of death began to rise up the stairs; making him gag. He listened as the door upstairs creaked open, footsteps slowly making their way down towards him. Panic had taken over. Nothing else mattered anymore, he just wanted to escape.

He ran for what seemed like an eternity, as though he was trapped in a never ending nightmare. The cackle from the madman above him grew louder as he forced himself further into the darkness. The smell was overpowering now. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. Tears began to well in his eyes as he realised the inevitable; that perhaps there was no way out. He finally reached the end of the stair case, looking down what seemed like a long tunnel. At the end of the tunnel, was a door with a small, square window at its head; an orange light shining through it. He ran for it, a glimmer of hope in his eyes as a thin smile began to emerge on his lips. “Thank god” he whispered to himself as he pushed open the door, running into the light.

He stood in the centre of the room, the door creaked as it swung shut behind him, leaving him staring helplessly up at the wall before him. A long scream echoed from his lips, clawing his face with his hands as the poor boy stared at the wall; unable to look away. Mikey hung from the wall, strung up like an angel from hell. A meat hook held up his body up by his back as his arms were held outward by a blue rope which was tied to opposite ends of the room. His eyes were hollow and black with the pale skin of his back sliced open, the entrails of his flesh held outwards and stapled to the ceiling; giving Mikey the appearance of wings. Frank threw up, unable to look at his mutilated friend. He tried to speak, trying to ask himself who could have done this but he knew it was pointless. He had given up fighting.

Tears streamed down his face, as he forced himself to look away, turning around only to be met with Gerard. He covered his mouth, muffling a scream as he met his lover’s eyes. Gerard stood there, drenched in blood. The bruises from the attack still ghosted around his throat and his eyes... the only way Frank could describe his eyes was that they were not his own. The stench of death wafted from his clothes as the blood trickled to the floor; his hands remained in his pockets. Frank shook his head in disbelief. He had been to his funeral, he had watched them as they placed him into the ground next to Mikey... there was no way he could be there now. He was dead. Dead and buried. “No... That’s... that’s impossible” he cried, slowly backing away from him, fear rising in his chest. Gerard smiled; a sickening, twisted smile. Blood poured from his lips as he stepped towards Frank, pulling something from his pocket. Frank’s eyes fell to the weapon in Gerard’s hand; he couldn’t quite make it out. Suddenly, a sharp filled his chest as a fountain of blood spilled across his yellow shirt. He looked into Gerard’s eyes, his knees growing weak as he felt the world around him grow faint. Gerard pulled the weapon from his chest, licking the blood from it before pulling him close; whispering softly into his lovers ear;

“This is only the beginning”

Frank fell back and onto the floor, the world grew black as he watched Gerard, blood tricking from his body; the twisted smile still plastered upon his face. Frank’s eyes rolled up to the ceiling, looking at the remains of Mikey for one last time as he left this terrifying nightmare.

Notes

sorry if this is a bit graphic
Is this truly the end of frank or is there more to this than meets the eye? Let me know what you think of this chapter (I have two possible outcomes for this) ;)