The Light Behind His Eyes (Frerard)

I woke up under the new and clean covers of Gerard’s bed, groggy and far from fully awake. The first thing that came to my eyes was Gerard, sitting cross-legged at the end of his bed, staring at me. He looks a little bit better, less groggy and sick-looking. He must’ve changed the sheets of his bed for me while I was knocked out cold, to prevent me from catching his stomach flu. He was waiting for me to wake up. How long, though? I gasped and nearly jumped, suddenly remembering what caused me to pass out unexpectedly. Gerard’s body count is higher than just three. He’s killed more people, and he never fucking told me until now. How many more people has he killed? Ten? Twenty? Five thousand? For all I know, he could be a mass murderer. It’s just dawned on me that Gerard has actually achieved serial killer status. From what I’ve learned watching my fair share of crime-related shows like CSI and documentaries about serial killers over the years, the legal definition of a serial killer is someone that’s murdered three or more people, usually for abnormal psychological gratification, and that’s just what Gerard is. I should’ve realized this much sooner. I’m in love with a goddamn serial killer. I really don’t know what to say about this. Who else did Gerard kill? And why? Should I even ask, or will I end up passing out again, devastated by what ghastly things Gerard’s done, whatever they may be?
“I should’ve told you earlier, Frankie,” Gerard said suddenly, sitting still. That’s literally the first thing he told me. He usually tells me good morning or asks me how I slept, but not this time. I shouldn’t even ask what he’s talking about. I, unfortunately, already know. What should I say? I don’t even know where to begin, for fuck’s sake. It still keeps hitting me over and over again.
Gerard is a murderer.
Gerard’s killed more than just three kids.
Gerard is a fucking serial killer.
And I’m in love with him…
“Gerard…” I said shakily. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because,” Gerard frowned. “I was afraid you’d leave me. I still don’t understand how you could possibly be willing to stay with me, knowing what kind of person I am. Nobody else here knows that I’ve killed more than those bullies. Not Mikey, Ray, or Bob, either. Only the authorities know. They’re out to get me, Frankie. Killers aren’t supposed to be loved. They’re supposed to be feared, Frankie. I’ve killed people in cold blood. I’m a fucking criminal,”
I need to ask Gerard who else he’s killed. I need to know what he’s been hiding from me all this time. A part of me is just shocked, of course, but another part is mad with him. I know admitting you’ve slaughtered people isn’t the easiest thing to open up about, but I really need to be aware of the person I’ve put myself around all this time (fuck, the person I've been sleeping with, too!). If he’s killed innocent people for his own twisted and fucked up personal gain, how can I in good conscience defend someone that’s done such a thing? What if this whole time Gerard has been telling me what he wants me to hear, and not what he really is deep down? After all, this is the same person that’s killed three high-schoolers over a sketchbook. I need to know more of the man I’ve been trying to fix this whole time.
“Gerard…” I started, trying my hardest to keep my cool. “Can you tell me who else you’ve killed?”
He didn’t respond right away. He closed his eyes, deeply breathing in, then back out. He knows he has a shitload of explaining to do. I need to prepare myself too, because who the hell knows what he’s been hiding from me for far too long?
“I’ve killed four other people when I escaped from the hospital. I’ve killed one of the foster families I used to live with when I was still in high school,”
“Four people?” I nearly gagged saying those words. Four is too much. One is too much. “Four, Gerard?”
“Yes, four. Four’s the magic number, Frankie,” Gerard chuckled, letting out that same unsettling laugh that just makes my skin crawl. “Four people that didn’t deserve to live,”
“Wh-why not?” I can already feel myself shake, the hairs on my neck rise. I can already see the Gerard I know and love vanishing, being replaced with the revenge-obsessed, murderous and psychopathic Gerard that I fear. It’s like there’s more than one person living inside Gerard’s head, like another personality, almost. This is not the Gerard I’m in love with. “What did they do to you?”
“They all hurt me. They made me feel worthless, just like those fucking bullies. They made my life a living hell, just like those kids did,” Gerard’s voice grew dark, hissing through chattering teeth as his eyes widened with pure anger he’s trying his damndest to hold in. “I had to make them all pay the price. I had to get my sweet revenge on them. I wasn’t gonna let them go unpunished. Justice had to be served,”
I knew at this point I shouldn’t talk. I’m too scared to, anyway. I’m all too familiar with this side of Gerard, and it still terrifies me. He needs to do all the talking, while I sit back trying to not piss my pants out of utter fear. I wish this side of him never existed. I’m gonna fix him so this side goes away forever, but I only think the only way it really will is if he carries out his plan to murder the last two people on his kill list, two people that I know for a fact deserve to die, the people that killed Gerard’s daddy and mama. I hope I’m right about that. Oh, I hope to fucking god I’m right.
“Now…” Gerard breathed, seeming a little more calm and collected than he was just seconds ago, simmering down a bit. “I’m gonna take you back to when I was in high school, and tell you how I went about doing what I did to the Richardson family. I want you to listen to me very carefully, Frankie...because all this time...I’ve really dreaded having to tell you about all this, but now, it must be done. There’s no hiding it now,”
“I’m listening, Gerard,” I gulped, fearing what I’m yet to hear. It’s like that feeling people get when they’re getting ready to sit through a terrifying and gruesome horror film that’s filled to the brim with jump-scares, except this is much worse. This isn’t some movie. This is real.
“Not long after my grandma Elena passed away, I was sent to live with a different foster family, since I was having issues with the one I was with at the time…,”
“Why's that?”
“The home I was living with was full of punks always trying to pick a fight, especially with me, for some reason,” Gerard shrugged his shoulders. “It was just like Trenton, except at the home I was dealing with a bunch of unruly foster kids, instead of criminally insane mental patients. I had no choice but to learn to defend myself there too, just like at Trenton. You just never knew when you were gonna get your ass handed to you. Even if you looked at someone funny, you were in deep shit. I’ve had enough of it, after I've landed dozens of kids in the hospital, as well as myself quite a lot of times. I didn't wanna be stuck in a home where at any day at any time, I'd get pummeled by someone because of...well, whatever. It was like pulling teeth getting myself transferred to a different foster home, until I finally got CPS to do their goddamn job...and that's when they soon sent me to live with the Richardsons...and it didn't take long for me to realize that the last home I lived at was like bliss compared to that godforsaken place…”
“What made it worse?” I asked, quickly realizing I should keep my damn mouth shut, seeing the bitterly disgusted look growing on Gerard's face.
“I'm gonna get to that. Really soon,” he sighed. “Anyway, the Richardsons took me in, and I thought at first it was gonna be like a breath of fresh air living there compared to the dump I was staying at before. It was a family of four; a middle-aged couple with two kids of their own, one named Matthew and the other Amy, both of whom were around ten or eleven years old at the time. I thought it would be a blessing for me to be in a home with only two other kids, rather than twenty or thirty like many of the other homes I stayed in… but when I soon picked up on Mr. and Mrs.’s...well, rather extremely religious lifestyle, I knew it was gonna be far from one,”
I couldn't help but cringe at the mentioning of religion, especially people that take it way too far, just like my mom and dad. At least Gerard can relate to what kind of hell I went through growing up with people like that.
“The husband Jack was a minister at this local church he and his wife ran. We were forced to go there every Sunday morning, and let me tell you, it was hell on earth. You can only imagine how bad it was, considering the fact you grew up around parents like that, right?” Gerard turned to me, raising an eyebrow.
“Mhm,” I nodded quickly, still feeling myself on edge. Gerard's barely scraped the surface.
“Jack and his wife Mary Ann also made us pray constantly, not just at the dinner table, but before bed, and even before showering, for fuck's sake. They watched us like a hawk, and if I ever did anything wrong, like swearing or not doing my chores...it was to the closet I went, or as they called it, the ‘confession chamber’. It was this very cramped room down in the basement, with nothing but a chair and a bunch of religious paraphernalia, like a bible and crucifixes, and that's where I had to sit and 'confess my sins’ for forgiveness. It was a real drag, being in a really tiny and cramped room for god knows how long, bored outta my mind and all; I wasn’t even allowed to get out to use the bathroom. I just had to sit and pray until Jack or Mary Ann decide to finally let me out, whenever they felt like it, really...but that fucking closet wasn't even the worst part ...it was when I was finally let out, where I was taken upstairs...and tied down and beaten,”
“They'd beat you?” I blurted out, not even realizing it until it was too late. I just can't keep a still face at the thought of someone hurting Gerard. It just makes me sick to my stomach, just like his stomach flu. Now that I think about it, this foster home must’ve been the place where Gerard stayed at at the time when he and Ray first met back in high school. Ray did mention that he always found Gerard with bruises all over his face, like he was being abused back at home or something, and that he never spoke until much later when their friendship deepened. It’s all starting to come together, now. Jack and Mary Ann Richardson are the awful people that did all that to Gerard.
“Yeah, they would,” Gerard whispered, his somber eyes dark and withdrawn. He went quiet, his whole body seeming to shrink as he went into further detail of the hell he went through. He’s starting to lose his cool, but is struggling to hide it, slowly but surely. Sooner or later he's gonna falter. I know he is. “They would tie me up to a high chair like what a baby would sit in, and make me wear these baby clothes, like a bib and a bonnet...and take turns beating me to a bloody pulp. Even their kids would take turns hitting me, because their parents would make them, or else they’d be grounded...but they obeyed, and they fucking loved it. They’d laugh at me and call me names, like cry baby, because every time this happened, I would cry and beg them all to stop hurting me. It was like that every time I did something bad; spend an eternity in the confession chamber, waiting for my doom. Sooner or later it wasn’t just over being bad; it soon turned into whenever they fucking felt like it. I could be just minding my own business, then I would be suddenly dragged downstairs and punished for no reason whatsoever! When Jack would drag me upstairs to be beaten, I’d beg and plead with him to not hurt me. I remember crying my eyes out every time...I didn’t wanna be tied up in that high chair and beaten again...but I knew all my begging and pleading was all in vain,”
Feeling my soul being torn in two hearing of Gerard tortured past, I suddenly remembered that one time I tried getting Gerard outta his basement for the first time, when he had one of his episodes and started hitting himself, begging to not be hurt. That was why he was freaking out. He was having a flashback of such a horrid time, being forced into baby clothes and treated like someone’s punching bag, tied up against his own will. The more Gerard goes into detail about what he went through, the more I feel myself wanting to make him stop and hold him tight. I can barely take this anymore. I’m starting to lose myself almost as much as he is.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone about all this?” I asked. “You didn’t tell any of the teachers at school, or CPS about what was going on? Did you ever try running away?”
“I wish I did, Frankie. I really regret staying silent, or not running away,” Gerard ran a shaking hand through his hair, trying his best to hold back his inner demons that must be screaming at him right now. “I would’ve narced ‘em, but the problem was...I was so scared. I had a lot of teachers at school notice the bruises on me and ask me what was going on. Even Ray asked me a few times, when we met back then in Monroevile Park. I’d just either avoid the topic or just lie and say I fell. Jack and Mary Ann told me that if I ever did tell anyone, or if I ever tried running away, that they’d kill me and bury me, where I’d never be found. I was terrified, Frankie. I didn’t wanna die. I didn’t wanna let them win. The best I could do was stay silent, and hope to hell that I could escape somehow, without the risk of getting myself killed...”
“How were you able to get out?” I asked.
“I’ll get to that soon, Frankie...the beating wasn’t even the thing that pushed me over the edge, even though it should have been...but the beatings weren’t the worst part…”
Oh, no...I don’t think I’m prepared for this. In fact, I’m far from it. This is far worse than I thought, and Gerard hasn’t even gone into detail how he went about getting his revenge on these vicious scumbags that wear their religion like a fucking garment.
“It was close to my eighteenth birthday when I think I finally lost it, after what happened this one evening. I even remember the day it happened. It was on Wednesday, March 22nd, 1995…” Gerard shut his eyes and breathed out heavily again, still looking far from ready for what he’s about to spill to me, seeing his intense shakiness that’s clearly visible to the human eye. “It was because of what happened on that very day that I cannot shower anymore. It just brings back too many memories of what Jack did to me while I was showering…”
“What did he do to you, Gerard?”
“H-he…,” Gerard gulped, his voice faltering. “He...r-raped me, Frankie,”
It was at that dreaded five-lettered word where I felt a strong pang in my chest, much like being impaled right through the heart with that horrid word. Now I really feel like I’m gonna throw up, feeling the bile build up in my stomach.
“Wh-what?” I stuttered, my eyes wide in disbelief, feeling my guts turn to jelly. “He did what to you?”
“He held me down and fucked me, against my own will. He just walked in the shower, completely naked with an erection, and pinned me down to the ground. He was really big, so there was no way in hell I could fight him off of me. He held his hands around my throat and choked me as he fucked me in the ass. I remember it hurting so much. It was one of the worst things I’ve ever felt in my whole life. It hurt so much that I cried. I cried much harder than the times I was beaten, because that was nothing compared to what Jack did to me in the shower that night…,”
I am just speechless. I am seriously at a loss of words from what Gerard just told me. What the fuck can I say? He was fucking pinned to the ground and raped by disgusting sub-human garbage, because calling Jack a human is just far too questionable and lenient. He’s a monster, just like the men that murdered Gerard’s parents in cold blood right in front of him. The rest of Jack’s family are no better. They didn’t stop the abuse; they encouraged it. They took part in it. All four of these people were pure evil. But despite Gerard talking about such a dark and scarring thing that happened to him, he hasn’t lost it doing so, like I thought he would. If anything, he’s much more calm and collected than the usual. He may be shaking a little and stumbling on his words here and there, and is clearly not happy talking about the matter, but that’s tame compared to the many psychotic episodes I’ve seen of Gerard going hysterical and hitting himself, crying his eyes out and screaming bloody murder.
“He told me that there’s no use fighting back,” Gerard folded his hands, his vacant eyes focused on them. “He told me that no one can hear my screams. He told me to just be quiet and let him fuck me. He told me that no one will ever listen to me if I told anyone what he did to me. And that’s true. Who the fuck would believe me? A lot of people looked up to this man and saw him as some kind of fucking messiah. All the neighbors saw him as a good guy, because he’s a pastor. No one knew what was going on behind closed doors. Everyone at the church praised him and his family. They were like a fucked up version of the Brady Bunch. Nobody would take me seriously if I told anyone the kind of person he really is. I grew up being taught that only women can be raped. At least, that’s what society tells us, even today. Men are strong. Men can’t be raped, and if they can, it’s treated like a fucking joke…,”
It’s not just from the thought of seeing something so depraving and awful being done to someone precious like Gerard that makes me feel miserable, but I’m also sick with myself for having those lusty thoughts of him all this time. I hate myself for letting myself do all that to Gerard that one night, where we did the nasty, me being unaware of what he went through so long ago. He may not have resisted when I made those advances towards him, and he may have lead me on when we were in bed that time, but I still feel like fucking garbage. I am so selfish. I am a fucking fool. If I had known what this monster named Jack did to him, I sure as shit woulda stopped myself from letting my impulses get the best of me. What kind of fucking person am I? A very pathetic one, no better than the people that hurt Gerard.
“Gerard,” I said suddenly, trying to hold back the tears that are welling up in my eyes. “I’m so sorry,”
“Don’t be,” Gerard shook his head. “You didn’t do anything,”
“No, that’s not it. I’m sorry I let myself take advantage of you like that. If I had known what had happened to you, I woulda-”
“No, Frankie,” Gerard held up his hand, silencing me. “You need to stop right there. Don’t blame yourself for something that’s not your fault. You didn’t know. Besides, whenever we had our intimate moments like we do, Jack or what he did to me has never even crossed my mind. Not once. I’m dead fucking serious,”
“I know, but-”
“Frankie!” Gerard raised his voice. “Listen to me. I know what he did to me was horrible, but I’m not gonna sit here and let it ruin me. I’m sick of living in the past all the time. I shouldn’t ever be denied the chance to be with someone all because of something that happened to me a long time ago. People that are raped wanna rise above what happened to them, don’t they? They wanna get over it and move on with their lives. That’s exactly what I wanted to do. I wouldn't ever dare to let my mind compare you to a cunt like him, Frankie. Whenever I’m with you, whenever we are doing whatever in bed, Jack is one of the last things that comes to mind for me. You are a million times better than he is. He’s nothing. You don’t beat and rape people, after all,” Gerard stopped and smiled a little. “Besides, if anything, you’re my savior, Frankie. When I was having that dream earlier, when I was being choked to death and raped in the shower, it was like you ran in and fought Jack off of me, and saved me. You took me in your arms and ran away with me. That’s when I heard you tell me to wake up, and that’s what I did…”
“Really?” I gasped. “I was in that dream?”
“Yes, sugar. You were. You helped me wake up. You saved me, Frankie…” Gerard leaned forward and planted a soft and simple kiss on my cheek. I don’t know if I should continue to hold back my tears. There’s no point in it. I really am saving him. I really am fixing him, like I said I would. “Thank you, Frankie. You’re my capeless hero, running away with me in your strong arms,”
“Oh, Gerard!” I took Gerard in a desperate hug, feeling him jump in surprise as I did, tears running down my face. “You can run away with me, anytime you want, honey,”
“Of course, baby,” Gerard laughed. “I’d run away with you until the end of days...or until my heart explodes,”
We stayed in silence holding each other for what felt like ages. I cried the whole time, but I could care less. Gerard is worth crying over. That’s how much I fucking love him. When we finally separated, it was clear for me to see that Gerard is much more at ease now. He’s not shaking anymore. He isn’t finished telling me everything yet, though.
“After what Jack did to me, I just about lost all hope. I didn’t wanna live anymore. I didn’t wanna suffer anymore. I seriously thought about ending it all many times ever since that day, like maybe hang myself or overdose on pills, or even sneak into Jack’s gun vault and blow my brains out, but it was when I remembered what Elena told me before she died in my arms when I realized that suicide wasn’t the answer…” Gerard breathed, the shakiness in his voice returning. I can see he’s starting to cry, just like how I was moments earlier. “She told me to be strong, even when she’s gone...and that’s what I had to do. I woulda deeply disappointed her if I gave up and killed myself. I didn’t wanna disappoint her, or daddy and mama. I knew they were watching over me. Even now I get the feeling they are. I knew they’d want me to carry on, no matter what life threw at me...so that’s when I decided I had to keep fighting...and that’s what I did,”
“You’re brave, Gerard,” I said, commending Gerard for making the right choice to not take his own precious life. “I’m happy you didn’t give up. Your mom and dad and your grandma...they’re all proud of you. They’d want you to keep fighting,”
“I know they are, Frankie,” Gerard wiped at his tearful eyes. “I knew I had to keep fighting, in order to carry out my plan…”
“What plan?” I asked foolishly.
“You don’t know, Frankie?” Gerard smirked, the crying and sniffling coming to a screeching halt. “To get my revenge on the two men that murdered daddy and mama...and to also hunt down the Richardsons…”
Oh, fuck...I think I know what’s yet to come now…
“I managed to be freed of the abuse when I murdered those bullies on my eighteenth birthday, but I wasn’t gonna let the Richardsons all walk into the sunset unpunished for the hell they put me through. I wanted to make them all pay and feel every ounce of pain I did, and I wasn’t gonna let my life pass me by without shedding their blood. I was sick of seeing their faces in my dreams, and hearing the voices of them laughing at me and taunting me. Counseling and therapy and drugs wasn’t helping me at all. Justice had to be served. Killing them was the only way I can possibly ever fully heal from the scars they’ve inflicted upon me, especially what Jack did to me in the shower that one day,” Gerard’s bloodlusting eyes gleamed as he smiled from ear to ear, chuckling sinisterly. “After I escaped from Trenton, I seeked refuge in this abandoned warehouse, hiding from the authorities as I made a plan to travel to the Richardson’s house and carry out my plan. That warehouse was where I lived for a while, before I had to relocate. To my surprising convenience, it wasn’t that far from the home, so figuring out how to get there wasn’t that hard. I jacked an abandoned vehicle, gathered up the things I needed, and made my way there, in the dead of night…”
The wicked smile on Gerard’s face stretched even wider, much like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland, his wide eyes bloodshot and nearly bulging outta their sockets. He threw his head back and laughed maniacally like a madman, loud and hysterical. This is it. Gerard’s gone into full-out psycho mode, just like I’ve been dreading this whole time. There’s nothing I can do, though. I can’t stop him. All I can do is sit there and watch in horror as Gerard spirals further into his own madness. It’s just like watching a car-wreck in slow motion. It’s nothing short of a tragedy.
“When I got there, the lights were on, so I had to be stealthy and use the darkness outside to my advantage as much as possible to avoid any suspicious onlooking neighbors, until the time was right,” Gerard continued to chuckle as he spoke, his body slightly trembling and rocking back and forth as he did so. “Lucky for me, the back door was unlocked, so I snuck in through there and upstairs, quietly as possible. When I was outside, I peeked through each of the windows to locate all my targets. Mary Ann was busy in the kitchen cooking, while Jack, Matthew and Amy were all in their bedrooms. I knew where I wanted to start. I had to incapacitate Jack, the strongest of the herd before I could prey on the weaker ones. I was gonna save him for last, for the grand finale. There’s something very special I had in store for him…”
As much as I resent Jack for the gruesome things he’s done to Gerard, I can’t even begin to imagine the brutality of Gerard getting his revenge on that pig. A very sick, fucked up part of me is thinking up the many ways Gerard could’ve gone about destroying him, like something straight out of a violently graphic torture-porn or slasher horror film, while the much more sane and rational part of me is dreading that moment when Gerard does start to go into detail about it sooner or later.
“I snuck into his bedroom while he was asleep and knocked him out cold with a chloroform rag. He struggled and flailed for a bit, but it didn’t take long before he passed out, unaware of what I was yet to do to the rest of his fucking family. He was in for a real surprise, let me tell you!” Gerard cackled under his chattering teeth, rubbing and wrangling his hands together, having the resemblance of a comic book super-villain. “So with Jack outta the way for now, I made my way into Matthew’s bedroom first. He was sitting at his computer, wanking off to naked girls on the internet. Oh, the irony. I think his parents would dropped dead if they saw their not-so-faithful son giving into the devil’s temptations, letting his dirty thoughts get the best of him. He didn’t even notice me walk in on him! It was too late for him to run when I swung my bat at him, crushing his skull to pieces. He just fell to the floor, his whole body limp. He had to have died almost instantly upon the impact. It was bitterly disappointing, but at least I had one target outta the way. I bashed his fucking head in a few extra times, just to make sure he’s dead. It had the resemblance of a half-crushed melon, blood and bits of guts and skull fragments scattered about. It was beautiful. It barely looked like someone’s head when I finished,” Gerard paused and looked right into my eyes, that unnerving and manic grin still clear on his face. Meanwhile, I'm sitting here next to Gerard trying my damnedest to hold myself back from puking my guts out.
“With Amy, however, I got a much better reaction outta her,” he continued, not taking a second to acknowledge how mortified I must look right now. “She walked in the room and screamed, seeing her brother’s head crushed and mushy like roadkill. She tried running, but she was just too fucking slow! It had to be only seconds before I caught up to her and bludgeoned her nearly to death. I hit her in the torso a few times, breaking some ribs and a few other bones, sending her to the floor. That’s when I wanted to spice things up a bit. I didn’t want her to go out the same way her brother did. I needed to have variety, be creative, you know? If I could be creative with my art, then I could also do that with murder. Makes things more fun that way. See, when she was running away, part of the reason she was slow was because she just so happened to wear these stilettos with her dress, like she was getting ready to go to a party or something, and high heels is the last thing you should wear when being chased...so it was all there for me. It was perfect! With her incapacitated body pinned to the floor, I took her stilettos off her feet and gouged her fucking eyes out! It was glorious, Frankie! It was music to my ears hearing her teenage and pubescent screams and cries! I then snapped her neck, killing her instantly. I couldn’t ponder for too long before moving on to the next victim, because I knew Mary Ann would’ve been hearing all the ruckus going on upstairs, so I had to move fast. Those punks deserved to die as much as their parents. They took part in the abuse, doing what they were told to do. They enjoyed hurting me too, the little brats they were. It was either hurt me, or have their privileges suspended, and it was that they found more important. They put their play time over a human being...and that’s exactly why they had to die, Frankie. They had to suffer for what they did to me,”
The more Gerard went into detail about how he murdered Matthew and Amy, the more I felt myself ready to puke, my insides flip-flopping and recoiling in disgust. The worst part is, it’s far from over. It’s not just the murders that are really unsettling, but the way Gerard describes them all, like telling me a fun little anecdote. It’s like looking at his gruesome drawings of the mangled bodies all over again. He takes pride in what he did to those people, just like when he killed those bullies. He doesn’t have an ounce of remorse, clearly.
“I think it was Mary Ann that tried to really put up a fight with me, the combative bitch she was. She stormed up the stairs with a kitchen knife, swinging the thing at me. She did manage to slice at me a few times when I struggled with her, but it was nothing more than a few cuts and a little bit of a stab to my upper arm. Nothing serious, but I still do have the scar,” Gerard pulled up the shirt sleeve of his left arm, revealing a long and pale white line of a healed scar just below his shoulder. The fact that I haven't noticed it until now is beyond me. “She was a strong cunt, but not that strong. I managed to knock her out and down the stairs with a few good punches to her big stupid head; I even knocked some of her teeth out. All that time spent fighting off fellow patients at the hospital and kids at previous foster homes really came in handy for me, pretty much. But I wasn't finished with her yet, of course. Far from it. I dragged her unconscious body to the kitchen where she had a pot of hot boiling water on the stove. I didn't even have to take the time to think about how I was gonna finish her off. It was all there set up for me! It was brilliant!” Gerard dramatically threw his arms up in the air in joy, his eyes still gleaming sinisterly with bloodlust, another bone-chilling laugh erupting from him. “I grabbed her by her hair and planted her fucking face right into the water. That's when she woke up and struggled and screamed, just like a live lobster being boiled to death in a pot of scalding water, only here…it was her face, of course! She was barely able to put up a fight with me then, her helpless body struggling under mine. I can't remember how long I kept her face under the water, but it felt like forever until she finally stopped struggling. You should seen what she looked like, Frankie. It was like she barely even had a face anymore! It was a true work of art, her features all red and scalded and disfigured! She was still alive, though. She kept screaming and crying and shifting about in my grip. It's beyond me how in the fuck she was able to live through all that, but hey, that only means I get to play with her some more! I decided to add one more finishing touch to my work, then. I took a knife and carved a beautiful smile, slicing open her cheeks like carving a jack-o-lantern. She died choking on her own blood. People say smiling is contagious, Frankie… and I agree, because when I took a good look at the smile I carved into her fucking face--or what was left of it, at least--I couldn't stop smiling, no matter what. It was that phenomenal, baby. I couldn't do anything to wipe the grin off my face, no matter what. I was so fucking happy to kill that cunt Mary Ann, as well as her shithead kids, and soon her rapist pig of a husband!”
I don’t know if I can take any of this much longer. Gerard had completely lost himself into hysterics at this point, and I'm feeling so queasy that I'm literally only inches away from puking up my breakfast. I feel like I should run away, away from the lunatic right next to me. But I can't. I'm paralyzed by my own fear, knowing the horrendous things that Gerard is capable of doing to someone. I’m stuck with a man that’s lost his goddamn mind.
“So, after all that fun, I spent quite a good chunk of time getting the place cleaned up,” Gerard sighed deeply, settling down from the manic state he was in just seconds ago. “It was a real drag, but I knew I had to cover up my tracks. I couldn't waste too much time, though. I still had business to take care of with Jack. So after busting my ass off cleaning the whole mess up, I tied up a still unconscious Jack and threw him in the back trunk of the car, gathered up my things, and made my way back to the warehouse. I had something very special in store for him there. See, before I headed out to the Richardson’s house to...well, do my business, I went out to the town landfill and gathered up some lumber I found there, and with that I made a wooden cross, like what was used to crucify Jesus...and that’s how I wanted to torture Jack, just like his supposed lord and savior. I stripped him naked and hung him up just like Jesus, hammering the nails through his hands and all. Hell--I even made a crown of thorns just for Jack, except this one was made out of barbed wire that I also grabbed from the landfill. It was rusty too, which made it better. It was when I crowned him, he finally woke up, and the first thing he saw was me, of course, but I had something else in store for him--his whole fucking dead family! I hung them all by these big meat hooks. I think I failed to mention that the place I lived at for a while was actually an abandoned slaughterhouse, so having those hooks to hang up the corpses really added a nice touch to the scenery, y’know?” Gerard chuckled dryly, glancing over at me for approval of the murderous and vengeful scheme he went through with years ago. I just cannot react, because I’m still nearly catatonic from what I’ve been hearing come right of Gerard’s mouth; it’s been coming from the mouth of the same man that told me he loves me, after I told him the very same thing.
“The reaction I got from him was absolutely priceless when he saw the mutilated bodies of his worthless fucking family. He screamed and cried bloody murder, calling out their names like they were actually worth more than shit, which is what they’re all far from of course, just like himself!” Gerard growled, his whole body beginning to shake violently again, tightly clenching his trembling fists. “The motherfucker didn’t recognize me when he saw me, four years later after he violated me! He begged for his life and told me he would give me anything, anything I fucking wanted--money, property--anything! I told him that the only thing I wanted from him was his blood shed, to get payback for all the pain and suffering he’s caused me, and that’s when I think he finally remembered who I was. He kept apologizing to me, begging me for forgiveness and to let him free, but I knew none of that didn’t mean shit. If he really was sorry, he woulda never beat me and raped me. He never woulda ruined me, just like those bullies at Monroeville High did, as well as the two bastards that killed daddy and mama! I of course told him that his apologizing and his begging wasn’t gonna do shit. When I was in the hospital, I kept on having constant flashbacks and night terrors of him beating me to a bloody pulp and forcefully sodomizing me. I couldn’t ever sleep at night without seeing his ugly face just inches above mine, choking me as he fucked me. The only way I could ever move on from all the pain and agony he’s caused me was to make him feel every single ounce of pain I did, and murder him in the most grotesque way imaginable, because goddamnit, that’s what he deserved!”
I swear that Gerard looks like he’s only inches away from exploding from all the anger and rage fuming from him. He’s rocking back and forth, still shaking and trembling from the rage roaring within him, his hazel eyes wide and bulging, his voice growling and vicious. It’s almost like he’s fucking possessed. In fact, I’m almost convinced he is. He’s possessed by his own revenge-fueled rage and hatred, rooted from his tragic and dark past of abuse and trauma. Then, suddenly, he froze, his head hanging down, with his long black hair veiling over his face. It’s like someone just walked in and pulled out the plug powering the anger-driven and manic Gerard. He has that twisted and unnerving resemblance of a malfunctioning animatronic at somewhere like Chuck-E-Cheese. You know, those demonic-like robotic characters that would make little kids nearly shit themselves and cry to their parents in utter fear? He’s just like that in a way right now, and I must say, it’s really freaking me out.
“So...you know what I did to him, Frankie?” Gerard suddenly whispered, his voice hoarse. He slowly brought his head back up, his hair revealing his face once again, psychotic eyes and smile still wide. “Hmm, sugar pop? Any idea what I may have gone about torturing him?”
“Wh-what?” I stuttered, my hanging and quivering mouth unable to stay shut and still.
“Well...” he cackled uneasily, his hands clawing tightly at his knees as his whole body gradually started to shake again . “In high school, I read up on a bunch of different medieval and sadistic torture and execution methods, and this one in particular caught my eye...it’s called ‘lingchi’, otherwise dubbed as ‘death by a thousand cuts’. It was an ancient Chinese method of execution mainly done to those who have committed treason or fratricide. It involves the criminal being slowly carved to death, gradually cutting off chunks of their flesh until he or she finally died...and that’s exactly what I did to Jack. I sang my heart out the whole time as I cut him to pieces, starting at his pectorals, then his breasts and thighs. His screams and cries of agony were so harmonious and wonderful to hear, baby. It really was. I then severed his hands and feet at the joints, moving up the limbs until they were completely amputated from him. Then, I sliced off his ears and nose, and finally, his genitalia, which I sliced at the slowest. It was so stunning to me he was able to survive through all that. He lived through the whole thing. He never even lost consciousness! That’s what made it even better!” Gerard’s soft cackles escalated to the roaring and maniacal laughs of the madman he is, gasping for air as he became further consumed in his own laughing frenzy. “So, when I cut his manhood clean off of him, I finished him off by shoving it straight into his mouth and down his throat. He coughed and gagged endlessly until he finally croaked, choking to death while committing autofellatio! It was absolutely beautiful, Frankie! I got my sweet revenge on all the Richardsons, and it felt even better than the first time I killed someone, when I got my revenge on those bullies! The high I got killing them all was much stronger than last time! I felt like I was on top of the world, baby! Three cheers for sweet revenge, baby!”
Gerard’s body collapsed down and sprawled out on the bed, lying face up and nearly motionless. He shut his eyes and breathed deeply, losing his steam from the state of pure hysteria he was in just moments ago. It all wore him out, sucking him dry of all his energy.
“Well, Frankie…” he breathed. “After all that, I chopped the bodies up to pieces and buried them all, where they’ll never be found. Now you know. I’ve told you everything. That’s how I got my sweet revenge on the Richardsons. I really am a murderer…”
So, this is it. This is what Gerard has been hiding from me all along. He killed four more people out of revenge, just like the three kids that tormented him throughout high school. Revenge and murder was as essential to him as food and water. Instead of prescription drugs, therapy, counseling, and institutionalization, revenge and murder was the only way he saw fit to be able to heal from the wounds inflicted upon him by some very cruel and sadistic people. With all of that being said, what kind of person does that exactly make him, going about and getting payback on them all in the most grotesque ways possible? This is what he wants to do to Cecil and Irvine, the two people that ruined his life in the very beginning, turning him into the broken madman he is today…
But, that’s not even the worst part about this whole thing. I’m the one that told this madman that I’d fix him, and be his partner in crime. I told him I would help him hunt down those two people, and because of that, I’m no better than he is. I’m a madman, just like Gerard is.
_ _ _
It’s already halfway through the night. So far, I haven’t gotten an ounce of sleep. It’s kinda obvious that I’ve distanced myself a little from Gerard ever since he spilled to me the four murders he’s committed after escaping from the mental institution...and he never told me anything about it, until earlier today. We barely spoke for the rest of the night before retiring to bed; he went about drawing or writing or whatever else along those lines, while I excused myself to the living room and watched back-to-back episodes of some shitty sitcom show on TV. I really hate sitcoms, honestly.
As insane as it may sound to the average person with a fully functioning brain in their skull, I actually insisted on sleeping with Gerard later that night. It’s not only because his bed is a lot better sleeping on compared to, say, his couch salvaged from the dumpster or Goodwill, or the futon upstairs, but because I’m pretty sure that if I decided not to sleep with him, he’d definitely take a hint that something’s up. The last thing I wanna do is risk upsetting Gerard after how hysterical he was earlier today. He’s right about one thing for sure: he may be a little crazy, but he’s not a bumbling idiot. He knows things.
It should really come as no surprise that Gerard’s been capable of murdering more people than I thought, let alone is very grisly and sadistic ways, but every single detail of it is now hardwired into my mind. Every single fleeting moment depicting the slaughters of the Richardsons keeps playing over and over in my head, as well as the terrible things done to Gerard by them that made him snap and go about killing them all, and that’s 50% of the reason why I can’t sleep. The other half is because I never knew, for the life of me, that Gerard was really this fucked up in the head. I never knew his maniacal behavior could ever go this far, seeing what unfolded within him right in front of my eyes. I should’ve known from the start how sick he truly is but, come to think of it, would I have gone and done the same thing as Gerard did if all those disgusting things happened to me? Would I go out and get my revenge like Gerard did if I was abused and raped as bad as he was? Another thing I should really be asking myself is if I seriously am willing to help Gerard do the very exact things to Cecil and Irvine as he did to the Richardsons? What if I was? Or, what about if I told him no, and therefore end up breaking the promise I made him? Would that mean I really don’t love him like I’ve told him, or even worse, would that mean risking my own life, knowing how Gerard’s dark side is?
“Frankie,” Gerard mumbled, his body next to mine shifting in bed. “You awake?”
“Have been,” I replied.
“Oh, really?” Gerard flashed me a worried look, stroking my cheek, his face close to mine. “I’m sorry, baby,”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll manage,”
“You sure?”
“Sure as shit,”
“Alright, then,” Gerard turned, his back facing mine as he curled his body curled up into a little ball under the covers. “Sugar...I need to ask you something,”
“What’s that?” I asked. I guess by the way he’s so concerned he’s having second thoughts about how he acted earlier.
“Do you...still...l-love me?” he whimpered, stumbling over that four-lettered word. That word sends chills down my spine. Do I really love him, despite the madman he is and all that he’s done? Am I fooling myself if I say yes, or am I just a big fucking liar?
Yes. I still do love him. I don’t love what he’s done. I don’t love the demons that dwell within him, but I do still fucking love him. After all, he is still broken. I still haven’t fixed him yet.
“Yes,” I nodded. “I do,”
“You swear, Frankie?” Gerard turned back to me, inching closer to my body. “You really do?”
“Yes, I do. I mean it, Gerard,” I said, to which Gerard smiled. He clung on to me, wrapping his arms my body and snuggling up against it, like a little kitten.
“I love you too, Frankie,”

Notes