The Kill

Gerard washed the blood off his face and hands before changing his clothes. Frank watched as he burned the shirt and pants he'd been wearing and gulped. He really must have fucked up if he was burning his favorite Misfits shirt.

"We need to burn down her house," Gerard blurted out.

"What?"

Gerard pushed Frank into the wall roughly, slamming his head into it. "SHIT!" Frank cursed.

"Frank, I am not asking you to accompany me on this arson," Gerard said in a low, calm voice. His skin was sweaty and paled, his eyes bloodshot and glazed over. "I am commanding you to accompany to burn down her house. Now."

Frank stared at Gerard in fear. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I killed someone I actually gave a shit about," Gerard snapped. "Do you know how that feels?"

"I've had enough!" Frank snapped back. "I ate someone. You heard that? I was locked in a room with a carcass and I had to eat it. Do you know how that feels?" He slapped Gerard's hands away, glaring.

Gerard seemed surprised to see Frank retaliating to his commands. Usually he went along with his sick plans. But apparently it wasn't one of those days. He'd already had a breakdown earlier that day. He apparently didn't want to deal with Gerard's shit.

"You can do whatever the fuck you want," Frank said quietly. "But I want nothing to do with it. So go burn down that bitch's house and leave me the hell alone. You told me to build God and then we'll talk, right?"

Gerard was stunned to silence. Frank didn't wait for an answer. It was a rhetorical question.

"Well I haven't built him so I don't want to talk," Frank continued angrily. "Now clean that blood off the walls, put out this goddamned fire, and get the fuck out of here! I want nothing to do with your shit because you want nothing with mine." Frank pointed at the door, shaking with fury. "GO!"

Gerard did as told, not looking at Frank the whole time. Frank didn't care. He was tired of Gerard fucking up and forcing him to carry his weight. He wasn't really thinking for himself and he was sick of it.

Maybe Gerard will stop dictating me now, Frank thought. I've had it with his commands.'I want this, I want that!' Shut the fuck up and go fuck a toaster. Matter of fact, make me a goddamn sandwich.

He barely noticed when Gerard left until he heard the eerie silence of the hotel. He finally noticed all the faults in the room. The wallpapers were peeled and cracked, damaged from water and who knew what else. The light flickered over his head and there was a sickening smell of mold and musk.

What a shitheap, Frank thought. Yet it's somehow cleaner than my soul.

With that, he began laughing hysterically. It had been forever since he'd laughed. He almost forgot how it sounded. It was a great laugh. Too bad no one rarely heard it.

He began laughing so hard he felt tears brim his eyelashes. He clamped his hand over his mouth and fell against the bed, cringing. He tried to hold the tears back because he knew they wouldn't stop falling until he collapsed into an exhausted sleep. But like most things, tears can't be held back.

The tears fell in fast, hot streams down his reddened cheeks. He wasn't laughing now. He was sobbing.

I fucked up, he thought. I didn't have to scream at Gerard like that. Why did I do that? What the fuck is wrong with me? Why do I always fuck up? I didn't have to get pissed off. I should have handled it differently.

He buried his head into the dingy pillows and sobbed loudly, gasping for air. He wished he hadn't been so rude. He was such an ass. Sure, it felt amazing at the time, but afterwards he just felt so...pathetic. Worthless. Like the monster he really was.

Notes

We're all monsters and we're all ugly.