By around about 12:35 PM Frank Iero's lifeless body was strewn across a Jersey road.
He'd been stabbed, why and by who was unknown, he just lay there struggling and bleeding out. The poor kid.
He just lay there, waiting.
Gerard was driving. Gerard was drunk, his vision a blur and giggles escaping his mouth as he swerved along the Jersey road. He was losing control of the car.

Thump
"What the fuck was that?" Gerard giggled, and with that, he opened the car door to see Frank, dead.
Bleeding and hit
"F-frank?, Frank Iero?" He muttered, sounding like a child in the headmasters office
No reply.
"Oh shit, Frank I gotta get you home, and fixed oh god" He was panicking.
Gerard then began to pick up the boy and carry him, bridal style might I add, to the back of his car.
He swerved, and the roads were wet and slippy . What had he got himself into?


By the time Gerard had got home with Franks body, the streets were pitch black and the TV stations had turned to shopping channels. Great.
"Come on Frankie" he murmured
He walked down the cold, hard steps to the infamous basement of the Way household.
The lights flickered and Gerard shuddered with excitement. He had memories here.
Twisted ones filled with blood and delight.
The ones he never spoke of.

Notes