From the earth to the morgue

"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry."
"God, I'm so sorry"

The words echoed throughout my ears. As far as I knew I was saying them, but its been hours and I can no longer feel my face.
I moved my hand from my knee and placed it on the ground for support. All I could focus on was the soft 'splat' my hand made as it came in contact with the puddle of blood that coated the white floors. I sucked in a shaky breath as I looked around just to see how much blood there actually was. My god, it was everywhere. There was some that reached the door, nearly seeping out, there was some sprayed across the wall, and there was so much on me. Oh my god, I was covered in it. I felt my breath waver as I crawled over to the front of the man that sat in front of me. I reached out to touch his face, his pale skin was now tinted with a shade of light blue, that somewhat resembled his now drained eyes. He was cold to the touch. How long had I made him sit here like this? God, I'm sure this isn't how he wanted to go out. The poor kid, he was so young. He had so much more to see. But I went and made sure I was the last thing he would ever see.
I wonder what his mother must be thinking right now. She could be enjoying a nice little dinner date with her husband, completely unaware of what had become of her son. Then she'll notice how he hasn't called in days and realise something had gone wrong. Then after weeks and weeks of constant searching and praying she'll see how her son is now one victims of this infamous serial killer. God, It'll tear her apart, just like it did to Chris's mom. I can't believe I could put someone, not to mention at least eight people through something like this. Wait. What am I talking about?
I'm Gerard Way! The infamous New Jersey serial killer! Since when have I ever felt bad about what I was doing? Fuck, this is the kind of shit that makes this fun! Who cares if it tears his mother apart? Maybe she should've kept a better eye on what her obviously whore of a son was doing! Like, I would never let such a thing happen to, Frankie.
Oh no. Frankie. I felt my heart clench with shame. What's he gonna think when he hears about this? God, where even is he? I stood up, wrapping my blood stained fingers into my hair. I had to apologise, or he's never going to forgive me. But how? I looked down at my blood stained clothes. It was kind of mesmerising. It looked like the strands were begging to spell out the tale of how they ended up there.
That was it!
I grabbed a small bucket from the tool room rushing over to the poor boy's body. I looked down at his stomach, seeing the puncture I had left in him. God, it seemed like there was no more blood to drain. I sighed feeling around his arms, neck, and legs. I finally decided to go for his neck. It seemed like the most reasonable place, and also maybe it would finally take his cold, dead eyes off of me. I placed the bucket in his lap, as I slowly grabbed a hold of the barbed wire, that wrapped around his now bruised neck. I carefully started unwrapping it from around his neck. I ended up pricking my finger on one of the spike, causing a few drops of blood to land in the bucket. I ignored it and finished removing the barbed wire, throwing it to the side. I gently grabbed a hold of his jaw, studying the marks on his neck. I hummed softly as I slipped my other hand into my back pocket, pulling out a small little pocket knife. I flipped it open, I gently ran my finger across his stiff neck, leaving a small blood stained line. I then sliced the knife across it, carefully following the marked line. Thankfully blood began spilling out. I grabbed the bucket, trying to catch as much as I could. Not much came out, but it was enough. I released his jaw, letting his head fall back. I grabbed the bucket and rushed out the door. I could easily deal with him later.
I was so thankful it was three in the morning on a Sunday. No one should be out right now. I sat the bucket down outside of some rundown drugstore. It was placed nearly directly in the middle of town, so there was absolutely no way the police would miss it. And i'm completely sure the news will cover it. Either way, I know Frankie will see it, and hopefully realise how bad I feel for doing it. Again.
I dunked my hand in the bucket before placing it on the wall. I spelled out "I'm sorry" , trying to make it as clean as possible, but the blood eerily dripped down the wall. It looked like a scene straight out of a 80's horror movie. I sighed, softly. It was going to have to work. This isn't the type of thing I could just erase and try again. I grabbed the bucket and quickly made my way back to the shed, where I finally got rid of the rest of that young boy.


"It simply said, "I'm sorry." we do believe it came from the man who has been behind all of the recent kidnappings. And as we speak the blood is being processed, so we can identify the victim."

"Do you think this person is apologising for their actions?" One reporter called out.

"I'm not quite sure, but considering our profile on this guy. We believe he is extremely egotistic and feels there is no fault in his crimes at all. He may even believe he's doing something good. We believe it could be a message to a certain person. Family member maybe even a spouse. We aren't completely sure at the moment."

Another reporter shouted out, "Do you think the blood could belong to the kidnapper himself?"
"Unfortunately no. Considering how much blood was found at the scene, we believe the person it belonged to is deceased."

"Detective Toro! Do you believe the other victims are dead too?"

Toro let out a heavy sigh, "As much as I hate to say it, it is a huge possibility at this point. But what we do know is there is a murderer out there. We are doing everything we can, but until this person is in custody, please be safe out there."


Egotistic? Really? I scoffed shutting the tv that sat in front of me off. I sighed, leaning back in my seat as I ran my hands through my greasy hair.
I cant even imagine what could be going through Frankie's mind right now. I just know he's been watching the news. even though I wish he wasn't. It's just the type of person he is. It's his way of 'keeping an eye on me'. I feel so guilty about the whole thing.
Right before he left I promised him I'd stop. I promised him I'd stop for him, but now he's forced to see an innocents man's blood sprawled all over a wall, just for him. It must be eating him up inside.
I flinched just at the thought of his reaction. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now seeing it on the news. It's terrifying.
I needed to speak with him. I needed to hear his voice. I needed to make sure he was okay.
I'd only called once. On the night he left. Of course he didn't answer. Since then, I've avoid calling for weeks. I knew he needed time. I knew he needed time to think and figure out if he could still stand to be around a person like me. Stand to be around a monster like me, but this time I couldn't hold off any longer.
He's either going to be pissed or crushed. Either way I need to apologise.
I picked up my phone for the first time in four weeks. I dialled in the number that was burned into my brain. It was practically instinct at this point.
Straight to voicemail. It must be turned off.
I gulped softly dialling in my dear brother's number. I hadn't spoken to Mikey in years.
About a year after me and Frank met we got in a fight. I know I was in the wrong, but could you really blame me. I was out of my mind at the time. It was only two weeks after my first kill. I didn't know how to feel about the whole thing. I just knew i was way more protective over Frankie. That was when I truly noticed how precious he was to me.
All I really remember is Mikey's eyes gazing into Frankie's. Next think I knew everything went red. I know I had my hands around his throat, and I had no intention to let go. I can still hear my mothers cries. She was so scared I was going to kill him. In all honesty, so was I. That was also the first time Frank saw me truly lash out. Oh man I can still feel the harsh bruises that stained my knuckles for the weeks that followed.

I was soon yanked out of my thoughts as i heard a soft click come from the phone,

"Frankie." I breathed out softly into the phone.

My heart dropped when I heard Frank's wavering breath hitch. The line stayed silent for what felt like hours. I wasn't hurt nor surprised when frank said nothing, but when it all came down to it i just really needed to let him know how sorry I truly was.

"Frank, I, am so goddamn sorry. You don't deserve to go through this. I'm so sorr-" I was cut off by a loud thump and a sudden click.

I really fucked up this time.

Notes

To those who read the chapter, "I don't want to love him" before this I apologise. I didn't like how I delivered that chapter at all, and I felt like it was all very rushed, so I did end up deleting it. Once again, I am really sorry for confusing anyone.