The Light Behind His Eyes (Frerard)

I think it’s safe to say that Gerard was fuming with anger the entire ride to the warehouse, gritting his teeth as both of his hands tightly gripped the wheel while driving an alarming twenty miles over the speed limit, his bloodshot eyes wide and nearly bulging right out of their sockets. He’s still beyond enraged after what happened earlier when he set me up as a decoy for Irvine. There’s absolutely no doubt about it. He may as well have steam coming out of both ears, with his face as red as a tomato all from just how infuriated he is. I’m no stranger to seeing Gerard this mad, but it still scares the ever loving shit out of me, alongside with his poor driving skills that could very well get us killed. Gripping onto the handlebar above my seat, my ass is on the edge, praying that such a thing doesn’t end up happening to us after all. Even though I’m still extremely shaken after what happened earlier back at Irvine’s house, it’s Gerard that’s the one that really needs to slow the fuck down and calm the fuck down.
“Hey, uh...G-gerard,” I stuttered, my voice faltered from how much of a shaking mess I am right now, no thanks to Gerard’s shoddy and reckless driving. “You think you could slow down a bit-”
“That son of a bitch!” Gerard roared for the millionth time ever since that aforementioned son of a bitch nearly pummeled me to death earlier. “He’s gonna get it! He’s really gonna pay for what he did to you, Frankie! I can’t believe I let that piece of shit hurt you! He’s really gonna pay for all he’s done! You’ll see!”
The entire ride consisted of nothing but Gerard screaming and cursing as he drove like a maniac all the way up to the point where we reached the darkest corners of rural New Jersey to the old slaughterhouse which, of course, looks like any other abandoned warehouse you’d see in the midst of the city--broken windows, graffiti-covered brick walls, overgrown plantation, and so on. I can somewhat read the weathering print on the large sign above the front entrance--Lancaster Meat Services & Slaughterhouse, since 1890. This withering place that’s far away and obscured from the heart of town is where Gerard used to live before Ray took him in, and it’s easy to say that based off the bad shape the exterior of the place is in, it’s a complete dump that’s home to the damned. I can’t even begin to imagine how atrociously desolate the interior must look, knowing the fact that this place used to be a killing ground for innocent livestock that most definitely must’ve lived in horrible conditions prior to their bloody deaths, being turned into food for human consumption. Now that this place is being revisited, there’s more slaughter that’s yet to take place, but what’s different is the quantity of what’s to be killed, as well as what exactly that is being killed. It’s not another pig or a cow that’s gonna have it’s guts spilled and it’s body desecrated. It’s a human being that’s gonna be the lamb put to slaughter; a very vile human being that’s more depraved and filthier than any poorly nurtured animal.
“Ahh...home, sweet home. Oh, how I’ve missed this place,” Gerard sighed, turning off the ignition of the car, leaving us in silent darkness within the car as his eyes stared in admiration of his old haven from the outside world. He then turned to me and smirked, those hazel eyes of his eager to show me his dark and soulless former humble abode. “This is where lived before...the authorities came looking for me. Come on, baby. Let me show you around. We gotta get unpacked and ready for our little show, too,”
Reluctantly following his orders and wondering about the first thing he said about living in this godforsaken place, I followed Gerard, opening up the back door of the car and helping him unload one heavy bag after another from it, my morbidly curious self being unaware of what exactly the contents of these backpacks and suitcases are (seriously, are they all filled with rocks?). After doing so, we carried them all inside, my nose being filled to the brim with an insulting stench of mildew and dried blood as my eyes took in the ill-lit scenery all around me. We’re in a large room with tile walls and a cement floor, with large metal meat hooks hanging from the ceiling, sitting still like the wind hasn’t greeted them with it’s impact in ages. It was when I got another look at the tile walls that I started to feel uneasy. There’s writing all over the walls, printed in what appears to be black ink, the handwriting not far off from chicken scratch, yet all far too familiar to me, because I know exactly who wrote all this stuff on the walls. It’s all nothing more than a bunch of illegible nonsense written on these walls, representing the ramblings of a madman. It’s also from a madman who used to live in this forgotten place, and is also standing in front of me right now, unpacking some of the bags to assemble his tools of torture. There’s only one word in this mish-mash of poor handwriting I can read; a four-lettered word that is not at all uncommon for a young child to utter. It’s also a word that Gerard has used quite often to speak of his late mother.
Mama.
“Frankie, look in one of the bags and grab me some rope, please?” Gerard said, bringing out a folding chair and setting it out in the center of the room in front of two large pillars not far off from each other. Without saying a word, I did as I was asked, rummaging through one bag after another until I eventually found a bunch of rope all bundled up in a bag. I handed it to him, who just placed it down on the floor, then turned back and flashed a wicked grin at me. His whole plan is coming together nice and smoothly, much to my horror.
“Beautiful...just beautiful!” he cackled, the grotesque smile glued to his face, his eyes warped with mania. “I know exactly how we are gonna ruin him, Frankie. I want him to pay for everything he’s done, especially all he’s done to you, sugar. I can’t wait to spill his blood and guts. I can’t wait to make him fucking suffer! Come on, baby. Let’s go get that piece of filth out of the car. Let’s go get our pig ready for slaughter!”
Oh no...oh, fuck no. It’s happening. It has begun. We are nearing the time where Irvine gets executed in the bloodiest way imaginable, and Gerard is already losing himself once again. We are literally only minutes away from what I’ve been dreading and have been so scared of all this time. I want Irvine to suffer, but I don’t wanna be the one to witness it, especially since the executor himself is just as much of a terrifying, bloody disaster to see. I can’t take it anymore. I don’t think I can be any more scared than I am now, because it’s happening again! I can’t move. I can’t see. I can’t breathe. I can’t-
“Baby?” Gerard called out, making me jump at his booming voice startling me out of wherever my mind was just at, his body waiting for me to follow him. “You coming?”
“Y-yeah...I’m coming,” I replied, reluctantly walking out the front door with Gerard and to the trunk of the car. I really started to believe Gerard didn’t need my help as I saw him open up the trunk door and literally drag Irvine’s knocked out body on the gravel and dirt floor by the feet without any struggle or plea for assistance, making his request for me to assist him deemed as useless. Maybe he just told me to come with him so that I dare not try to run away behind his back, because that is something I can very well do, but am just far to scared to do so. He will find me if I were to do such a thing, and it sure as hell wouldn’t end well at all. Carelessly dragging Irvine’s body like a ragdoll, Gerard shoved him inside and began to strip him of all his clothes, then proceeded to take the rope and tie it around each of his wrists and ankles, and tied the other ends of the rope to the two pillars, lifting up his light and malnourished body with barely any struggle and hanging him upside down with his body stretched out, giving him the resemblance of a frog carcass on a dissection table. I couldn’t help but gag a little at the sight of Irvine’s bare-assed body being bound in such a way. It’s not only seeing him naked that makes me cringe, but also what’s yet to be done to it.
“Alright, baby...looks like the show’s ready to begin,” Gerard sang, grabbing what appears to be a toolbox and sat down on the folding chair he set out earlier, taking a seat in front of his stretched out victim. “You just sit back and relax for now. I’ll let you know when the grand finale begins, because that’s when I’m gonna need your help. For now, you just enjoy the show…,”
Here it is. This is where the show begins, just like Gerard said. This is where Gerard finally begins to get the bloody revenge he’s longed to have. This is where the blood begins to be shed. This is where someone dies in the show, at the hands of a sadistic killer. This is where I’m soon to take part in the show, more specifically, the bloody grand finale. This is where all of Gerard’s sanity is to be lost forever, as well as mine. Sadly, there’s nothing I can do about any of it. I can’t run away, not only because I know my attempt to do so will be in vain, but also because I just can’t move. I am paralyzed by my own crippling fear of impending doom. It’s all coming back to me, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do. All I really can do is sit back and watch the show, and watch the madness unfold.
“Wake up! Wake up, you worthless piece of shit!” Gerard hissed, slapping Irvine across the face so hard that I could hear the impact echo in my ears. He slapped his face again and again, leaving his face as red as the blood that’s about to be spilled from him. “I said wake up! Wake the fuck up, you-”
“Huh? What? Wha-OW!” Irvine hollered, being jolted awake by Gerard’s continuous slaps. Despite being groggy and clearly disoriented, his eyes frantically looked around, trying to figure out just what the hell is happening. I think it took him a bit too long to finally realize just what was happening to him, seeing him struggle in the ropes and unable to free himself. That was when his eyes widened in utter shock, snapping from his barely conscious state and already screaming his head off. “Wh-what...what the fuck? Where am I? Who the fuck are you? Please, let me go! Please-”
“Shut up!” Gerard growled, slapping Irvine clean across the face once again, making him go silent as he continued to tremble in paralyzed fear. Gerard grabbed him by the hollow cheeks, squeezing his face as his nails digged into them, making his lips pucker like a fish. “You only speak when I give you the permission to...got it?”
“Wh-wht th fck? Wht th hll are-” Irvine mumbled through his squeezed mouth despite his captor’s orders to not do so, still frantic and just about clueless to what’s really happening. “Pls lt m go. Pls-”
“I SAID SHUT UP!” Gerard roared, slapping Irvine again and again as his eyes widened in infuriated wrath, making his victim whimper and wince in pain until he fell silent as Gerard grabbed him by the face again under his sharp-nailed hands. “You do not fucking speak until I tell you to. If you dare speak again...you will really, really fucking regret it. Do I make myself clear?”
Nodding in response, Irvine didn’t utter a word, finally following his master’s orders. I can see that he’s still beyond fucking confused, almost completely oblivious to what’s yet to happen to him, as well as what the reason behind it is. He’s definitely shaking, his body shivering in the cold as his eyes stayed as wide as golf balls, looking so hopeless.
“Good. Now...I have some questions to ask you, and I want you to answer me. Got it?” Gerard tightened his grip around Irvine’s cheeks one last time before letting go, his face red and scattered with claw marks. Gerard turned around to face me, his face immediately transitioning from twisted anger to innocent smiles, winking at me before turning back, making the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I know he did that to check up on me, to make sure I wasn’t coming up with any ideas to escape. He wants me to watch him torture and kill Irvine in all his grotesque glory. “I want you to take a good look at me, and tell me who I am. I want you to think long and hard specifically about what you’ve done long ago, because that will help you remember who I am. Understand?”
“Wh-what? What are you talking about?” Irvine gawked. “What do you mean? What do you--OW!”
“Do you understand?” Gerard hissed, his voice ice-cold. He grabbed Irvine’s face into his hands again and brought it right to Gerard’s, glaring at him as he began to speak through clenched teeth. “I want you to just shut the fuck up and look at me, and do as I fucking say. Take a good look at me, and think about who I am, as well as what you’ve done all those years ago. Like I said before, all of that will help you remember who I am, as well as the people you’ve ruined. Think, you miserable piece of shit. Think of what you’ve done, as well as the lives you’ve ruined...or is that too hard for your pathetic mind to process? Go ahead, Irvine. Think. Think of all the crimes you’ve committed, as well as people you’ve killed. That’ll help jog your memory to start figuring out who I am, and why you’re here with me. Think, Irvine. I’ll wait. I now give you the permission to open your stupid mouth and talk,”
Letting go of a frantic and mortified Irvine, Gerard sat back in his chair and reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighter, lighting the cancer stick up and taking a long drag from it, followed by blowing the nicotine-fused smoke in his bewildered prey’s face, sending him into a coughing frenzy. I know he can’t take a moment to stop and think about who the man in front of him with the cigarette is; he’s trapped and scared shitless, so of course he’s not gonna be thinking straight and rationally. I can see in his frustrated yet restless eyes and mutters of anxiety that he’s trying to do so, but is failing miserably.
“I-I...I don’t know!” he cried. “I-I don’t know who the fuck you are! H-how the hell do you even know my name? I...I just don’t know! Whoever you are, just please let me go! I’ll do anything! I’ll give you anything! You want money? I’ll give it to you! I’ll fucking give you anything you fucking want, just please, for the love of--”
“Shut up,” Gerard silenced Irvine once again, his free hand slapping him clean across the face, then took another hard drag from his half-burnt away nicotine stick. He glared at his piece of meat to terrorize, it’s head weary and still from the impact of the slap it was just given, it’s eyes heavy and no longer frantic. Shaking his head in bitter disapproval and annoyance, Gerard grabbed Irvine by a handful of his hair, yanking his head forward so their faces were nearly touching. “God, your voice is so annoying. You just never shut the fuck up, do you? You’re giving me a goddamn headache. You really can’t remember anything, can you? Here, maybe this will jog your memory a bit…,”
Flicking off the ashes from his cigarette, Gerard raised it and planted it right on to Irvine’s skin in the space between his two eyes, sending him into a screaming and flailing frenzy under Gerard’s tight grasp on his head. Being forced to watch in the corner of the room, I felt myself cringe, shivers running down my spine as I heard the sound of the burning stick singeing and hissing on flesh.
“Come on, you piece of shit! Think! Who am I?” he interrogated, pushing the cigarette down harder and harder on the skin of Irvine’s head. “Come on now! I ain’t got all fucking night!”
“I don’t know! I don’t fucking know, okay? I don’t know anything! Just please let me go!” Irvine cried, his whimpers of genuine fear and pain making my insides do a flip-flop in my body. What unsettles me even more than Irvine’s cries is the fact that Gerard’s clearly enjoying all this, bringing pain upon someone that’s unable to defend himself and seeing him scream and cry and beg for their miserable life. This is what he’s longed to do for years, and now that it’s in his hands, he’s savoring every bloody moment of it...and all I can do is keep watching, and dare to not even think of running away. I can still feel Gerard’s eyes on me, as well as his mind, despite all of that clearly occupied on the tortured soul right in front of him. He’s still watching my every move. He wants me to keep watching the show.
“So, you really don’t remember anything, do you? You’re fucking pathetic,” Gerard growled through clenched teeth as he threw his nearly gone cigarette on the floor, putting it out with a good stomp as he continued to tightly hold on to the back of Irvine’s head, their faces still so close to each other that I can almost see the spittle flying out of Gerard’s grinding teeth on to Irvine’s face. “If your stupid mind really can’t process something so simple, then I guess I’ll be fucking courteous enough to fill you in. It really boggles my mind that you don’t remember the two innocent people you’ve killed, the two children you’ve scarred, the family you’ve ruined so many years ago. I almost refuse to believe you don’t remember anything. I think you’re bullshitting me, but if you’re not...then fuck it, I’ll tell you. I am one of those children you’ve ruined since that day you killed his own flesh and blood parents. I am one of the sons of the Way couple that you murdered. My name is Gerard Way, and I am here to get my revenge and fucking kill you...after what you’ve done to my...d-daddy and...m-mama! I will make you feel every single ounce of pain I’ve felt over the past twenty years. I...will...fucking...kill...you!”
It was at that moment when I think Irvine finally got through his thick skull who the man torturing him really is. It’s like it all came back to him, the memories of him killing Gerard and Mikey’s mom and dad all those years ago with his side-kick Cecil. I can see it’s all crossing his mind, seeing his eyes and mouth widen in shock. He probably never thought back then that day that one of the sons of his murdered parents would eventually grow up to become a revenge-seeking killer that would go on a quest to kill the two culprits responsible for the heinous act that ruined his whole life.
“Y-you...you what?!” Irvine barked, his voice twisted with bewilderment and utter shock. “Y-you...you’re one of the brats of that couple we robbed and killed? You’re one of their fucking kids?”
“You’re goddamn right I am!” Gerard snarled, eyes and voice still full of wrath. “You bet your ass I am...and now that you know who I am, I’m pretty sure you know why you’re here, yes? I’m gonna make you fucking suffer. I’m gonna make you feel every ounce of pain that’s been inflicted upon me. You’ll never know what I felt until I show all of it to you. You will never know...because you’re shit. You’re fucking shit! You’re nothing but fucking dogshit that doesn’t know a thing about what I went through...and the only way you’ll find out is if I make you experience every last ounce of it before you die,”
“N-no! Don’t kill me! I don’t wanna die!” Irvine yelped hysterically, flailing under Gerard’s tight grasp. “Please don’t kill me-”
“Be quiet!” Gerard interrupted, giving the back of Irvine’s head a good yank, which succeeded in shutting him up. “Just shut your goddamn mouth and keep it shut. And quit flailing around, too. I want you to stay quiet and still. We haven’t even started yet! Now…,” Gerard paused, turning his head over to me with a grim smile growing across his face. “Frankie, baby...I need to ask you something, and I want you to answer me honestly. How many?”
What? How many what? What are you asking me, Gerard? How many what?
“Wh-what?” I asked reluctantly, my voice shaky. “How many what?”
“How many times did he hit you, Frankie? How many times did this motherfucker hurt my little sugar pop? Tell me,”
Gerard, what do you mean? I don’t know how many times I got pummeled by Irvine! I was near death and on the brink of unconsciousness! Counting the blows to my head and body (or anything related to math, for that matter) is one of the last things I’d be doing when I’m being attacked! I haven’t a fucking clue, Gerard! What do you want me to do, count my bruises? I don’t know how many times he hit me!
“I...I don’t know,” I answered hesitantly. “I can’t remem-”
“How many, Frankie? How many times?!” Gerard barked, his breaths growing heavy under his clenched teeth, going into full-rage mode dramatically in the blink of an eye. “How many times? Ten? Twenty-”
“T-twenty!” I yelped, feeling the inner me curling up into a ball of cowardice from the man nearly screaming right in my face. “Twenty times,”
“Ahh...twenty,” Gerard repeated, rapidly and terrifyingly transitioning again from full-out rage to calmness, his whole body no longer tensed-up from the amount of rage brewing within him. He smiled slowly, bending down and opening up his toolbox, pulling out a set of plyers and glaring back at Irvine with that wicked smile still on his face. “So, twenty’s the magic number, huh? Well then...let’s start counting then, shall we?”
“Wh-what? What the hell are you talking about? What are you--AHHHH!” Irvine screamed, kicking and flailing within the ropes wrapped around him as Gerard took the pair of plyers to on to Irvine’s left index finger, ripping the nail slowly off the skin. Blood poured out from the fresh wound and onto the floor, giving the plain dingy cement floor a rather crimson and horrifying tint. That was when I couldn’t even stop myself from curling up in the corner, blocking myself out from Irvine’s ear-shattering screams. I also just can’t afford to look at the horror that’s unfolding in front of me. It’s making me feel so sick just knowing it’s all right in front of me, no matter how much my mind tries to run away from it. My stomach is churning. I feel like I’m on the verge of throwing up, despite trying my hardest to not envision Gerard ripping each of Irvine’s fingernails from the flesh of his digits.
“Two!” Gerard hollered as he started to go to town with the plyers on Irvine’s next finger, followed by another wave of Irvine’s screams and cries of agony. “Three!”
“No! Stop! No more, please! No more...AAAAAAUUUUUGGGHHHHH!”
“Four!”
“Oh god, please help me! Oh my god! Make it stop, make it stop! Please help me, god!”

That was all that ensued; nothing but a blur and a vicious cycle of Gerard ripping off Irvine’s fingernails, then after that, all his toenails as Irvine cried and screamed and begged his absent god to help him from the hell he’s been put through by the person that’s been through the same place and back. I just couldn’t bear to look at all, just like any other sound-minded person would do. I had to swallow my puke a handful of times before it all twenty rounds of Gerard ripping off Irvine's nails finally ended. After it did, Irvine’s fingers and toes were nothing more than a severed and bloody mess, his whole self beyond hysterical and begging for mercy as his nails laid scattered all over the floor, surrounding him and Gerard, who’s still standing in front of him, smiling like he’s having the time of his life, which he unfortunately most indeed is. As for me, I am so numb and sick that I’ve become almost completely shiftless. I can’t move a single inch if I even tried, as well as utter even one word. I’m also shaking and sweating so much that my whole body is nearly soaked to the bone in perspiration. I might as well have become full-out catatonic after all I've witnessed, and the worst part is, the torture is still far from over.
“Well, Irvine,” Gerard sneered, reaching back into his toolbox to find his next torture device of choice. “Are you ready for act two?”
“N-no! P-please stop! No m-more...no more!” Irvine cried, his speech barely comprehensible from how much he’s been shaking. “P-please stop! I’ll do anything!”
“Oh, come on! We’ve barely even started! That was hardly a warmup!” Gerard exclaimed joyously as he pulled out a hunting knife from his box, waving it in front of his mortified victim’s face. The expression on Gerard’s then shifted from smiles to murderous glares instantaneously, still holding the knife in front of Irvine as he scanned over his ruined body in deliberation. “Now that you suffered for every single time you hit my sugar pop, I’m gonna make you hurt for all that you did to daddy and mama, you son of a bitch. While I do, I think I wanna keep something, like a souvenir to remind me of this glorious day like a memorable vacation...but what will I take? Hmm…,”
“No, please! I’m sorry for killing your parents! It was a fucking mistake, I swear! I’m sorry for-”
“Shut the fuck up!” Gerard nearly screamed, slapping Irvine hard across the face once again. “You are not fucking sorry, you disgusting piece of shit! Sorry doesn’t do shit! Sorry won’t fix me from how much you and Cecil ruined me! Sorry won’t bring back daddy and mama! Sorry will not save you! You are hopeless! You hear me? Fucking hopeless! Now…,” he stopped, continuing to scan over Irvine’s body in deep thought until he paused, his eyes widening with newfound enlightenment. “Ah-ha! I know what I’ll take with me! You sit tight now,”
Gerard reached back into his box and pulled out a small Mason jar, setting it down beside him as he slowly brought the knife to one of Irvine’s ears, holding it just above the surface of the skin as Irvine shook and whined in utter panic, blinded by his own hysteria to what’s yet to come.
“Now, this is all for what you’ve done to daddy…,” Gerard paused as he whispered into Irvine’s ear, before he slowly started carving at it with the knife in his hand, sending Irvine into a screaming frenzy as blood ran down the side of his head, the sound of ripping at skin and cartilage mixed with Irvine’s screams and Gerard’s hysterical laughter being the only things I can hear. I turned away, trying my damndest to hold in the bile that’s building up in my stomach and emitting up to my mouth and covered my ears to block out Irvine’s blood-curdling screams. I don’t know how long it all went on. It could have been a few minutes, or even a few hours. When I finally looked back, Irvine’s ear was cut clean off his head, blood pouring out all over the floor from his bloodied head. Gerard placed the severed ear right into the glass jar, staring at it in awe like he just caught a bug.
“Ah, yes...it’s beautiful!” he exclaimed happily, amused with his new souvenir. He set it down, keeping the lid off of it. “It needs it’s partner, though. The poor thing will get lonely in there all by itself. Now…,” Gerard’s voice shifted to a low tone, glaring eyes back on Irvine as he set the knife just above his other ear. “This...is for what you’ve done to mama…,”
“N-no! Please, no--AAAAUUUUUGGGHH!” Irvine screamed, his other ear slowly being carved off as Gerard continued to laugh maniacally at the top of his lungs, the sounds of screaming and laughter warping together into a horrible unison of pure madness as the carnage in front of me continued to unfold. I gagged, feeling the bile in my stomach build up once again. I got down on my knees, letting the vomit release from my mouth and spill all over the floor. I just can’t hold it in anymore. I can’t take any of this anymore. I am so sick and tired and scared and I just want it all to go away. I wanna scream. I wanna cry. I wanna run away...but I can’t. My own fear is keeping me glued to where I am sitting, forcing me to keep watching. I know Gerard’s still watching me, the eyes in the back of his head watching my every move as he worked the knife through cartilage and flesh, blood pouring and splattering all over his hands.
“Mama...we all go to hell…,” Gerard sang softly, his voice not faltering one bit despite all that’s been taking place right in front of him, all of it being done by his hands. “Mama we all go to hell...I’m writing this letter, and wishing you well...Mama, we all go to hell….,”
Mama…?
Wait a minute. What is he singing? It sounds just all too familiar, like I’ve seen these lyrics once before, and not that long ago. I’ve definitely seen it somewhere...but where, exactly? No, wait...I do know! It’s on the walls. It was written all over the the walls of this very place by the very same person, written in smeared black ink. It’s the same writing and ramblings that came from the madman that’s craved for revenge for so many years, and now, it’s right in his hands.
“Oh well now mama, we’re all gonna die!” Gerard continued to sing, his voice now booming and manic. “Mama, we’re all gonna die! Stop asking me questions, I hate to see you cry! Mama, we’re all gonna die!”
With Irvine’s second ear now cut clean off his bloodied head, Gerard placed it right into the jar with it’s fellow dismembered body part, sealing it shut with the lid and waving it in front of his victim’s face like a mother would do with a set of car keys, dangling it in front of her curious baby. Gerard smiled from ear to ear, unable to contain his laughter as his now deaf victim continued to scream and cry in hopeless despair and pain.
“It’s true, you know,” Gerard cackled. “We’re damned after all. We all do go to hell. We all are gonna die one day...and I’d never let it happen to me until I finally get the chance to get my sweet revenge! I told myself that I’d never rest until I finally got even with the two of you, after all you’ve done to me, daddy, and mama! Now I have it! I have finally got my revenge! I know daddy and mama are watching me from up above, and they must be so pleased that I am finally getting my revenge for all that’s happened to them! Three cheers for sweet revenge! Three cheers for sweet fucking revenge! Now…,” Gerard turned to me, his eyes and smile exaggeratedly wide, like a horrifying and homicidal cartoon character. “Frankie, baby...I need your help...for act three! I need your help...for the grand finale!”
Oh, no. Oh dear god, no. I am not ready. I am far from it. I’ll never be ready for more. This is exactly what I’ve been dreading. Gerard now wants me to actually take part in further desecrating Irvine’s near-deceased body. Gerard now wants me to literally help me kill him! I can’t, though! I still can’t move! I still can’t speak! I can’t see, either! Now, I can’t even breathe right! My own body is caving in on me once again! There’s just so much blood and pain and suffering and--
“Baaaaaaaaaaabyyyy!” Gerard sang, calling for me. I jumped, snapping back into the horrid reality my mind has been drifting away from. He’s standing right in front of me with something large and sharp in his hand. He went and grabbed it as I was losing myself to my own anxiety and blinding fear. It appears to be a giant saw, with handle bars at each end for two people. It’s the kinds of saws that’s used to cut down large trees...and this is what Gerard chooses to finish his victim off with. Behind Gerard, Irvine continued to wail and scream and struggle within the ropes, clearly in hysterics from what’s terrible fate is yet to come upon him. “Come on, sugar pop...the show must go on!”
No...no, no, no! It can’t go on! I can’t go on! I’ve already seen too much! You’re fucking insane, Gerard! I don’t wanna do this! I never did! I can’t help kill him! I just want it to stop! I just wanna go home! I wanna run away and disappear from all this! Please don’t make me do this, Gerard! Please, please, please! I want Irvine to suffer as much as you do, but...it’s all just...so wrong. I said I’d help you, but...but…
No. I have to do it. I have to kill him. I know if I just sit here and delay the inevitable, Gerard will be furious with me. Irvine does deserve to die after all he’s put Gerard through, and now that he’s so close, I may as well just get it over with. If it hadn’t been for this man and all he’s done, Gerard would never need to be fixed. He wouldn’t be so damaged. He made Gerard this way. He’s the reason why he’s so sick. He’s the epitome of all his suffering...and I must help Gerard rid of it all. I did tell Gerard I would fix him, after all…
Forcing all my might within my body, I slowly and silently stood up to my feet, walked up to the blood-soaked Gerard, and followed him over to Irvine’s restrained and flailing body. Gerard smiled warmly and sinisterly, handing me one end of the saw with the handlebar as he held the other side on his end, the sharp teeth of the saw now just inches above Irvine’s waist area.
No, Frank. Don’t do this! This isn’t right! Let go right now! Just let go and run. Run as fast as you can and--
“This is it, Frankie...I finally got it,” Gerard laughed, still smiling oh so gleefully despite what he’s about to do with my help. “Isn’t this great? I finally get to kill someone again! I finally get to have my sweet revenge once again! Oh, how I missed this feeling! But you know what? It’s all thanks to you, sugar! You helped me finally get it! I don’t know how I could ever repay you! I get to kill this bastard with you, Frankie...I just couldn’t ask for anything better than this! Now, on my mark, I will bring the saw down and push, and I’ll tell you when to push, that way we carve this piece of meat up nice and good. Got it?”
No, Frank! Just stop! Don’t listen to him! He’s no good! He’s fucking crazy, and you need to run! Get out of here Frank, or you’re done for! There’s no good to come out of all of this! Just run, run, run!
“Y-yes…,” I muttered, shaking my head. I closed my eyes shut and held onto the handle tightly, waiting for Gerard to make the first pull and give me the prompt to do the same. Irvine is still screaming, his voice hoarse and his speech far from comprehensible. I just want to get this over with, as much as my mind keeps telling me not to. I want it all to be over, and perhaps this is really the only way that’ll all happen. Gerard will rid of the body after this, where it’ll never be found, and I’ll never have to see any of this ever again. It’s like a horrid dream you just can’t wake up from, and the only way out is to let the worst happen. If only that were the case, because I know I’m not sleeping. It feels all too real. I am awake, as much as I wish not to be. “I-I’m ready…,”
No, Frank! Stop it! No, no, nooooooo!
Gerard yanked back on the saw, digging into the surface of Irvine’s skin of his groin area. That’s when my eyes opened wide, almost completely against my own will. The blade’s already in his skin. There’s blood seeping out from the wound in his perineum and down his legs as Irvine screeched and cried and wailed bloody murder. There really is a lot of blood...so much of it...
Close your eyes, Frank! Don’t look! Just close your eyes! Why aren’t you closing your eyes, damn it? Stop looking, goddamnit! Stop--
“Push, Frankie!” Gerard commanded, his voice barely hearable through Irvine’s screams. His eyes are still wide, craving for more blood. He’s waiting for me. “Come on! Don’t just stand there! Puuuuuuuuuush!”
No, Frank! Don’t push! Just stop what you’re doing and--
Do it, Frank! Do it! Do it, do it, do it! Keep going! Just fucking do it, Frankie!
Still holding on to the handle of the saw with both hands, I shoved forward, digging the teeth of the saw deeper through Irvine’s groin, more blood spurting out from the open and gaping wound and onto my shirt, as well as on Gerard, who just kept smiling like the madman he is. The blood is so warm and thick. I’ve never seen so much of it, or even felt so much. I never knew blood could be so warm. I never knew anyone could scream this loud, either...
“AAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUGGGHHHHH! AHHHH, PLEASE HELP ME GOD, HEEEEEEELLLLPPPP!!!!” Irvine cried out, unable to run away from death’s tight grip around him. “AAHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHHHHHHHHH! HELP ME, GOD! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!”
Gerard pushed forward again, and I pushed back. Now there’s even more blood, and it’s splattering all over us. I can hear the sound of flesh and bone being ripped apart mixed with Gerard’s laughter and Irvine’s screams. We pushed again and again, more blood protruding from Irvine as his screams became more and more gurgled and choked up. I feel so warm now having someone else’s blood all over my face and body. I’m not shaking and shivering anymore, too. I don’t feel like throwing up like I did before either. I feel...relaxed, but Irvine needs to shut up. He deserves what’s happening to him. He needs to pay for hurting and ruining Gerard. He needs to die…
“Ahahahahahahah...AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAAAHHH! SWEET, SWEET REVENGE!THREE CHEERS FOR SWEET REVENGE!” Gerard exclaimed at the top of his lungs, the laughter not at all coming to a cease, blood smeared all over his face. “DIE, YOU WORTHLESS SCUM! DIE, ALREADY!!!! DIE, DIE, DIE, DIE DIE! DIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIE!!!!”
Yes, Gerard! Irvine must die! There needs to be more blood shed! Bring more, more, more! Make him suffer! I love this so much, I can’t stop laughing! I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe! It’s so beautiful! Now that he’s dying, I’m getting closer to fixing you, Gee! I can fix you! I can--
I froze, my vision being almost nothing but pure red. It’s like I completely blacked out, only to be snapped right back into reality. What is this place? Where am I? How did I--
Oh, god...oh my god! What the fuck? What the fuck just happened? What did I let myself do?!
Right in front of me sat Irvine’s desecrated corpse...or at least, what’s left of it. It doesn’t even look like a body, but rather a mish-mash of blood and scattered organs. Right beside it stood Gerard, who’s down on his hands and knees over the “corpse”, his whole body nearly covered to every inch of the blood that’s just been shed. He’s laughing so much that he’s visibly trembling, smearing his snow white face with more even more blood.
“Oh, Frankie...I’ve never felt so happy in my whole fucking life! Three cheers for sweet revenge...three cheers for sweet revenge...three cheers for sweet revenge!” he hollered, his distorted voice echoing throughout the building, as well as my own messed up head.
Oh, god...oh my god...what did I do? What the fuck did I just do? Oh no...I am a murderer! I fucking helped Gerard murder someone! The body...oh god, the body...I can’t take it. I’m gonna be sick. I think I’m gonna--
Stumbling to the floor, everything around me began to blur as I fell to the floor. My eyes closed, the whole world surrounding me going black. The only thing I could hear is Gerard’s maniacal laughter as my consciousness slipped away, hopefully for good and forever. I don’t deserve to live after what I just did.
I’ve gone full-out insane.
I have turned exactly what I have feared and have tried to fix Gerard from being.
I’ve become a monster just like him.

Notes