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The Fabulous Kill Boys


The following morning, Frank looked up as the doorbell rang; since Mikey had disappeared he had taken sick leave from work. He had certainly been worried sick, but the simple fact was that he hadn’t wanted to be anywhere but at home until he was found. He had been grateful for Gerard. More than grateful; he had been a real rock. Frank often believed that people came into your life at specific times for a reason, and he had wondered if Mikey bumping into his brother that night had been one of those moments. It certainly seemed a significant event in bringing Gerard to him to comfort him in his distress.

Frank was, of course, oblivious to just how calculated an event that was. That Gerard had known exactly where Mikey was and had been using it just to get close to him. But even Gerard had been thrown by their newfound closeness and the sweetness of their burgeoning relationship had made the one he had with Melanie feel empty. Yes, he still cared deeply for her and believed that she felt the same, but it wasn’t what he wanted any more. He wanted Frank and he knew it was reciprocal.

Completely unaware of the danger he was in, Frank rose to answer the door.

“Frank Iero?” Melanie asked as Frank opened the door hiding her surprise at his small stature.

Melanie smiled, he looked tired, good, it would make it so much easier.

“Detective Howard, we spoke on the phone.”
“Oh!” Frank raised his eyebrows slightly in surprise. “Er, yeah, come in.”
“You seem surprised,” she commented as she walked in. “You were expecting someone taller?”

Frank shrugged as he closed the door behind her and followed her into the living room.

“I guess so, but then I suppose you were…”

Frank’s last words were cut off as Melanie’s right fist, protected from damage by a transparent Perspex knuckle duster, powered into his jaw, sending him spiralling backwards and crashing into the door frame. Tumbling to the floor in shock, Frank rolled over onto his back to see the woman stalking toward him.

“Actually, you being so stunted works in my favour,” she grinned as he scrambled to his feet. “If you’d been the size of a real man, it would have been quite different, but this is much more fun.”

Frank bristled at the insult.

“Who are you? Because you’re not a fucking detective.”
“No, I’m not, but I do know the whereabouts of your sweet little fuck-buddy.” Melanie laughed at the response from the shocked and still reeling Frank.
“M-Mikey?” Frank’s eyes widened and momentarily he dropped his guard. “You know…?” he hesitated as what she really meant came to him. “You’ve got him?”
“You’re not so quick on the uptake are you?” she smirked at his distress.
“Why?” he asked. “What do you want? We don’t have any money.”
“You really are slow, aren’t you?” she taunted, causing him equal amounts of distress and annoyance.
“Why should I know?” he snapped. “I don’t even know who you are!”
“No, but you know who I’m not.”
“So, you lied to me about being a detective? Why should that…?” Frank stopped mid-sentence and paled instantly.
“And there it is,” she gave a satisfied smirk.
“Who’s the other guy?” Frank asked quietly. “The other so-called detective? Is that who I’m supposed to know?”
“I believe you’ve met my other half, briefly. Apparently, you were quite rude to him.”

Frank’s brow creased and he shook his head lightly.

“Oh, you really are useless aren’t you? The club? Last weekend? Your stupid friend led him on then just ditched him when you turned up.”
“Ray!” Frank’s eyes widened at the realisation that he had in fact seen him whilst in the coffee shop with Gerard. “He… he knows I can identify him. I… I told him.”

Frank’s shoulders sagged as he realised that the man who had Mikey had quizzed him on the subject and he had unwittingly placed himself in danger. Suddenly awash with a variety of emotions including: fear, dread and defeat, Frank was caught off guard enough for her to rush forward, landing another cruel punch to his face. Staggering backwards, Frank planted his foot firmly behind himself; determined not to allow himself to be caught unawares again.

“Very good, except you’re still not quite there. You’ve complicated things for us with your new-found love interest. It’s not acceptable. You do realise that, don’t you?”
“Gerard?” Frank was confused; yes, Gerard knew Ray and maybe even this woman, but he refused to believe that he was involved.
“It’s touching, really,” she laughed mockingly. “Well, they do say ‘love is blind’. You really can’t see him for what he is, can you?”
“He knows what’s happened to Mikey.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. The sudden realisation that Ray had spoken to him in the guise of a police detective, but that it had been Gerard who had put him on the phone told him all he needed to know. Or at least, that was all he believed there was to know, but Melanie, seeing the hurt in his eyes, was determined to shatter all of Frank’s illusions in one fell swoop.

“He’s not the sweet boy you think he is, you fool. Yes, he knows about Mikey, in fact he helped to take him, but there’s something else that you’re not going to be able to handle. He’s a cold-blooded killer,” she scowled. “Or at least, he was until you came on the scene!”

Frank shook his head, dazed and uncertain how to react to the news.

“That guy Joe in the papers a few days ago,” she delighted in the horror in Frank’s eyes. “We tortured and killed him. And Bob? You must have read about the Belleville Butcher? He even managed to kill someone on your little coffee date the other day!”
“He… It… it’s not…” Frank stammered, unable to take in the words.
“What? It’s not possible? Gerard isn’t a killer?” She laughed. “He’s killed well over fifty people to the best of my knowledge, maybe a lot more than that. I only joined them three years ago.”
“Them? You, Ray and Gee?” Frank whispered.

She smiled a broad smile of satisfaction as Frank blanched. Ray was the one trying to get Mikey to go home with him. Was that why? He wanted to torture and kill him? Gerard’s brother?

“You’ve placed us in a difficult position, Frank,” Melanie scowled.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” he snapped sarcastically. “But not nearly as difficult as I’d like.”
“Not only do you know about and can identify Ray but you’ve compromised Gerard.”
“Compromised?” Frank glowered. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Clearly not what you think,” Melanie scoffed. “No, he’s showing signs of guilt. And that, my dear Frankie, is unacceptable in our business.”
“Don’t call me Frankie,” he growled resentfully.

Melanie laughed; the last thing she was interested in was his feelings, but now she knew he didn’t like it, she was going to persist.

“You really have caused us some problems, Frankie, not the least of which is that we now can’t trust Gerard because of you. We actually caught him in the act of trying to let his brother go. But, fittingly, you’ll play an important role in getting him back under control.”
“Control!” Frank cried in astonishment. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Me? I own Gerard!”
“Own? No one owns anyone and certainly not Gerard!”
“And the sweet part is, you genuinely believe that,” she offered a condescending smile. “But now your beloved Gerard and dear, innocent Mikey are both safely locked up, like you’re gonna be! And when Gee sees we have you, well,” she paused to laugh at his horrified expression, “he’ll do whatever we tell him to!”

Rushing forward suddenly, she landed another punch. Resetting himself and rolling his jaw from side to side to ease the pain, Frank internally cursed himself for underestimating her.

“That’s what you think’s going to happen, is it?” he forced himself mentally back into the room, he had to stop this.
“Oh, it’s happening, Frankie,” she laughed at him, as he scowled at the continued use of the familiar name. “Trust me!”
“Trust you?” Frank gasped at the ludicrous idea. “You’ve kidnapped my best friend and…”

Frank darted to the side to avoid another punch.

“You talk too much, Frankie,” she laughed as she took another menacing step forward. “What’s the matter? Don’t hit ladies?”
“No, I don’t!” he snapped.
“Well, this isn’t going to…”

It was Melanie’s turn to feel the explosive pain of a well-aimed punch. Unexpected and powerful, all of Frank’s anger and frustration was packed into the follow through. Her head turning sharply to the right, Melanie spun backwards into the living room, colliding with the couch before rolling onto her back as she hit the floor, unmoving.

“But you’re no lady,” he scowled.

Frank shook his hand out as his knuckles and Melanie’s left eye showed signs of the first blueish-grey blooms of some nasty bruising. Walking over, Frank dropped to one knee at her side to check she was unconscious before calling the police.

Silently and discreetly, Mel turned the lavender jade ring on her left hand with her thumb until it faced inwards. Opening her eyes suddenly, she grabbed Frank’s ankle, the spring-loaded needle piercing his skin. His eyes flew open at the unexpected movement and the pain of the needle seemed almost to go unnoticed.

Still leaning over her and furious, Frank swung his right arm again, connecting sharply with her cheek, but finding that for as much as she reacted with a scream, he was almost unaware as his hand, already bruised from the first punch, seemed to explode with pain. He realised now the necessity of the knuckle duster she was using; he felt certain that if not broken, he had, at the very least, damaged the tendons in his hand. Now clutching at it with his left hand for protection and support, he felt her grip his shirt and he became aware of the livid fury in her eyes as the whole of her left cheek flushed red and began to swell.

Frank could barely close his damaged fist now and knew he needed some sort of weapon to use against her. He pushed himself backwards in an attempt to get away, having still not registered what she had done, all the while adrenaline causing his heart to pump the drug quickly around his small frame. He scrambled further, finally pushing himself almost to his feet before slipping to the floor again as his muscles began to weaken and his knees buckled underneath him. Trying to stand once more became a logistical nightmare; he felt uncoordinated, dizzy and confused. He looked up, trying to focus his eyes and steady himself but instead his senses began to fail him and the room was sliding in and out of focus. Frank fell back, half sitting, half lying and Melanie rose to stand over him, rage giving way to gloating superiority.

“What… what have you done to me?” he gasped, raising his left arm defensively as his chest repeatedly rose shallowly but quickly.

Melanie laughed, displaying the lavender jade rose-shaped ring.

“I’ve drugged you, stupid! It’s a modern take on a poison ring. If I’d have known you were a dwarf, I’d have put less in the well, but maybe this is better? I could either give you another dose and you’ll be out for hours. Or I could take advantage of the situation.”

Already a numbing sensation seemed to be weighing him down and, no longer able to support himself, he slipped back to the floor, his arms falling uselessly at his side. Frank stared fearfully upward, semi-conscious and defenceless. Melanie dropped to his side, smirking. Grabbing a handful of Frank’s hair, she pulled his head into a position from which he was forced to stare at her.

“How would it be, I wonder, if I sliced you up? I could destroy every single tattoo you have.”
Frank’s face appeared to crumple. She didn’t want him dead, at least not yet, but she seemed to possess an uncanny ability to instantly see whatever might inflict the greatest emotional pain.
“No,” she smiled cruelly. “I can make you suffer in many more ways than ruining such beautiful art. Let me see what I can find.”

Rising, Melanie winked at Frank, before setting off around the house to find something that she would find interesting to use. Frank’s breathing was coming in short erratic bursts. Struggling against the drug, Frank found the strength to bend his elbows. Setting his hands firmly on the floor, he pressed hard, but instead of pushing himself to his feet, or even to his knees, he managed only to move himself backwards a few inches. Gasping with a combination of effort and frustration, he tried again but all his efforts were proving ineffectual. Disorientated and fearful, he fell back to the floor, barely able to move. His head swam and he knew the only reason he held onto consciousness was the adrenaline coursing through him.

Frank heard Melanie return before he could see her. As she walked, he could hear something hitting the sofa and chairs. Now standing over him, he could see that she was holding a baseball bat that had been given to him by a friend who played for the Newark Bears. Lifting the bat to shoulder height, she swung it down heavily across his thighs, causing a weak cry of pain. Already, the drug was causing him to lose consciousness and with this new onslaught, he almost welcomed it. Another blow to his upper arm and chest, left him coughing and reeling with pain and shock.

“I want you to beg me to stop, Frankie. I’m going to keep going until you do!”
“Go to hell!” he slurred, stubbornly refusing despite the agony.

Barely conscious, Frank had been desperate to stay awake and fight in whatever way he could, but now he knew it was a lost cause and his only movements were his eyes, which alternately fluttered open and closed.

Discarding the bat carelessly, she knew he would be unable to stay awake much longer. Dropping to her knees again she seized his arm roughly, injecting him with another dose of the tranquilliser.

“Goodnight, Frankie. Oh, and this?” she pointed to the rapidly bruising and puffy eye and cheek. “You’re going to pay for this. Or at least one of your boyfriends will.”

She threw his head back forcefully to the floor and Frank’s eyes closed, the worried lines on his brow softened and his head flopped slightly to one side. Melanie smiled; this was the last of the possible witnesses who knew about Ray and Gerard. Their empire was safe again, or at least it would be. It looked as though she would have to take on the mantle of killer. Gerard now had to be replaced; it was a shame, he was exceptional at his job.

Getting to her feet, Melanie headed quickly to the back door. Opening it, she grinned to see Ray already waiting there, but her grin switched quickly to a grimace as her eye and cheek caused fresh pain.

“Where is he?” He growled angrily as he examined her swollen and bruised face.
“He’s out cold,” she shook her head. “Don’t worry, honey, I've already told him there’ll be hell to pay for this.”
“Good,” he replied with a scowl, “that’s something he’s going to regret for the rest of his life.”
“They all will, sweetie,” she leaned in, grabbing him around the waist and kissing him hard on the lips. “You brought the rope?”
“Yeah,” he raised a small bag. “I’m surprised you don’t want anything worse though.”
“Worse?” She chuckled.
“More secure, then,” he smiled, shaking his head lightly.
“You wait till you see him all trussed up nice and tight and then tell me it’s not secure! Besides, you know how much I love the exquisite feel of rope on skin.”

Ray grinned; she had a glint in her eyes that told him that whatever she had planned, Frank was soon going to find himself immobile and extremely uncomfortable.

Walking through to the living room, Ray smirked as he saw that aside from being unconscious, Frank also appeared to have been beaten far worse than Melanie had. Seeing the expression on his face, Melanie explained.

“For some reason, he was reluctant to hit me, well, not until he’d completely lost his temper that is.”
“He did that hitting you once?” Ray queried, his tone one of disbelief.
“Twice,” she frowned. “Once to put me down and again when I was on the floor.” She shrugged. “When he checked on me, I drugged him.”
“I thought you were going to do it so we could enjoy knocking him around a bit?” Ray frowned, feeling as if he had missed out. “Although it looks as though you already have,” he added, eyeing the baseball bat.
“Ah, well, someone forgot to tell me that he was only about four foot nine.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry about that.” Ray shrugged. “I didn’t think.”
“Well, he was on the brink of unconsciousness after one dose, so I just finished him off. Wouldn't have been that entertaining.”
“Okay, so what do you want to do with him?”
“I need you to hold him upright,” she instructed, taking the bag of rope from Ray’s hand. “Sitting is fine, I just need his body and arms off the floor at the moment.”
“Okay,” Ray agreed, as he hauled Frank into a sitting position while Melanie got to work.

Kneeling behind Frank, she took a long length of rope and placed the centre across his back, taking it around underneath his armpits before crossing it over his chest. Pulling the rope back tightly over his upper arms she tied a tight double knot at his mid-back. Looping the rope under his arms at the elbow once more, she again passed it across his chest before bringing it back across his lower arms and tying another firm knot. Having pulled the rope tight, his wrists were now almost overlapping without even needing to pull them together. Working quickly, she wove a figure eight pattern before looping through his arms and between his hands. Finishing with a double knot tied between his wrists, out of the way of his fingers. As an afterthought, she threaded the rope through the back belt loop on his pants and fastened another firm knot.
“Nice,” Ray commented on her handiwork, with a raised eyebrow, earning a smile from Melanie as she fished another length of rope from the bag. Wrapping the cord around Frank’s knees a few times before tying a firm double knot at the front. Moving down to his ankles, she quickly bound them in a similar fashion to way she had his hands, again with the knot at the front.

“There, now I want you to stuff him into the tiny cupboard at the bottom of your equipment cabinet.”
“It would be just our luck that he likes it!” Ray rolled his eyes, remembering his experience with Mikey.
“No, I don’t think so. Judging by some of Mikey’s reactions and obvious preferences, I'd say that maybe dear little Frankie isn’t the one that’s used to being tied up. I think it’ll be a genuinely new and thoroughly unpleasant experience for him.”
“I do love you!” Ray pulled her close and nuzzled at her neck. “How about a little fun before we leave?”
“What kind? Brutal fun or sexy fun?”
“How about both?” Ray’s eyes twinkled.
“Well now, I like that idea,” she murmured as her head fell back, enjoying the sensation. “We’ve got dumb and dumber locked up at home and dumbest here’s out cold for the next few hours. Oh, and there’s a very handy couch right there.” She waved an arm to indicate.
“I like your thinking,” Ray grinned scooping her up and carrying her the short distance to the large and inviting soft leather couch. With a sympathetic look at her swollen face, he added: “I’ll be gentle.”
“You’ll do no such thing!” She smirked pulling him closer.


Melanie was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed in her dungeon, her right elbow resting on her knee and finally her chin cradled in her hand. She had expected to see at least one of the Way brothers awake on their return, but it had worked in their favour that neither had woken from their enforced slumber. It hadn’t been a difficult task to bring Frank into the house, or even to get him to Ray's dungeon, but the act of forcing him into the small cupboard at the bottom of Ray’s equipment cabinet had taken much more effort than originally imagined. It wasn’t that Frank was difficult to manhandle; he was small and slight and easy to manoeuvre, but the cupboard had actually been much smaller than Melanie had remembered. Either that or Frank was taller than she had allowed for. Nevertheless, the effort, to her mind at least, had been worth it. He was squeezed in, in an extremely cramped space, utterly unable to move. He would almost certainly be in agony when he woke and that was something that brought a malicious smile to her face. When Ray stood, having finally been able to close the cabinet door, sweat breaking on his brow, she had pressed him against the cabinet and kissed him hard as a precursor to, what she saw as, thanking him properly.

The exciting and rough sex on Frank’s couch, then the exertion of installing Frank in his temporary prison followed by the endorphin release from the unexpected but entirely welcome blow job had reduced Ray to an exhausted wreck and he had headed at her insistence upstairs for a well earned rest. She had wanted the time to contemplate what she wanted to do, what they deserved in fact. She was beyond angry, mostly with Gerard, but as his defection had resulted from his feelings for Mikey and Frank, they deserved her anger too. She remained seated for a very long time, merely watching and deciding. The longer they remained unconscious, the worse it would be for all of them.

In the end, it was Mikey who woke first. Recently, he had woken enough times in pain, discomfort or under attack that now he expected it; he was long past being able to wake having forgotten where he was. Now, his eyes looked frantically around before they landed on Melanie but he couldn’t help but smile when he saw her black eye, almost closed from the swelling of her cheek.

“What are you smiling about pretty boy?” She asked calmly, tucking her hair behind her ear and studying Mikey’s face.
“You and your boyfriend have a fight?” He smirked, happy to see that she had suffered too.

Melanie shrugged, giving no implication that she was going to say anything further. Gerard jerked awake at the sound of Mikey’s voice and look over at his brother. It was a quite different scenario for him; unused to waking bound and at Melanie's mercy in any other scenario than a Dom/sub scene, he was momentarily excited but that sensation was washed away immediately by the reality of the situation. He needed to find a way to placate Melanie or Ray, in fact, which ever of the two he could work his not inconsiderable charm on.

“Where’s Ray?” Gerard asked, watching as Melanie merely shrugged.

He felt certain he could get out of his situation, yes, but at what cost? He would not abandon Mikey now, especially after how they had treated him and especially given what he knew about Melanie and Ray. Yes, they would pay for playing him for a fool, but this needed careful handling.

“He’s around, I’d be more concerned for myself if I were you, baby cakes.”

Melanie turned to look at Gerard, smiling sweetly and the first thing he noticed was her black and swollen eye. The second thing he noticed was that she was calm, almost eerily so and her voice was schooled, collected. He knew that tone, he knew that that tone meant he and Mikey were in trouble.

“Melanie…” He began but Melanie’s glare was enough to shut him up.
“Be quiet, Gerard. There is nothing you can say to me right now that isn’t going to make me want to hurt you, so, if I were you, I’d keep my treacherous mouth shut.” She snapped.

Gerard did as she asked, shaking his head at Mikey in alarm when he opened his mouth to say something.

“Leave Gee alone you bitch!”
“Oh, Mikeyboy, you still really don’t understand how this works, do you? Don’t you remember what happened last time you called me a bitch?”

Melanie turned to Mikey and dragged her thumb across his cheek where she had slashed him with her knife, sucking her thumb when the action made him bleed again. Mikey flinched away from her touch and scowled at Melanie but she merely chuckled and dropped to her knees in front of him, resting her knife at his knee.

“Let me explain something to you, okay baby cakes? Every time you piss me off, or upset me, I’m going to take it out on Gee. For example…”

Melanie ran the knife down Mikey’s leg, stopping at the rope around his ankles.

“…if you kick me when I untie your legs, I’ll do the same to Gee, but I’ll use my knife, or my baseball bat to do it. Make sense?”

Mikey’s expression was an uneasy combination of scared and angry, both emotions fighting for dominance. Finally, he nodded slowly and Melanie smiled, hooking the knife into the coil of rope and tearing it free.

“You really are insane aren’t you?”

He asked her calmly and Melanie’s smile disappeared and she sighed and stood up. She stepped over to Gerard and grabbed a handful of his hair, pulling his head back.

“You can thank Mikey for this.”

Melanie punched Gee hard in the face, making sure he didn’t hit his head on the bed post, she didn’t want to knock him out, she just wanted to hurt him.

“I told you Mikey, you piss me off, you upset me, you take a swing at me and I’ll take it out on Gerard.”
“Why? Why won’t you just hurt me?”

Mikey’s voice was smaller this time and Melanie smiled again, standing behind him and untying the rope around his upper arms, leaning in to whisper in his ear, but loud enough so that Gerard could hear.

“Gee said he’d take your pain, that’s why. I heard him when he let you go. Plus, I’m starting to get bored and it’s giving me some entertainment. That’s reason enough, don’t you think? Get up.”

Melanie grabbed Mikey by the hair and pulled him to his feet, only letting go once he was standing because she could no longer reach.

“Don’t even think about it sweetheart.” She told him with a preemptive warning not to try something, pushing him back against the bed and holding the knife at his throat.

Without another word, or even bothering to look at him, she cuffed one of Mikey’s wrists and then switched her knife to her other hand to get his other wrist and closed them tightly around both his wrists.

“Move.” Melanie ordered, grabbing the front of Mikey’s shirt and pushing him in front of her, staying behind him and keeping her knife pressed against the base of his spine.
“Where are you taking him, Melanie?” Gerard called, alarmed.
“Just next door. Don’t worry baby boy, I’ll be back for you in a second.”

Melanie continued to push Mikey from her dungeon and towards Ray’s where they had set up ready for Mikey and Gerard while they’d been unconscious. The table had been moved to the side and there was now a length of rope tied to the suspension point where it hung low, at about waist height, with a chair next to it.

“I can’t wait for Gerard to get free and make you pay for everything you’ve done to him.”

Melanie turned Mikey around by his shoulders and tied the rope around the chain of the handcuffs with a raised eyebrow.

“Everything I’ve done to him? What are you talking about, little Way? I’ve only ever done things to Gee that he wanted me to, and even if he does take exception to something, I’m pretty confident I can talk my way out of anything.”

Mikey rolled his eyes at her and took a step towards her but Melanie didn’t move, but remained simply staring at him, almost daring him to try something. She knew she held all the cards - it wasn’t as if he could go anywhere or do anything to her, after all his hands were still cuffed and now tied to the suspension point.

“You’re not going to be able to talk your way out of it this time. Gee knows you’ve been playing him, you stupid little girl. He knows about you and Ray.”

Mikey could see the panic dance across Melanie’s face and smirked to himself.

“How?” She scoffed dismissively.
“I told him.” Mikey revelled in her obvious discomfort. “You’ve told me, Ray’s told me and I told Gee. Simple.”
“He won’t believe you.” She insisted.
“He did,” Mikey replied simply. “He isn’t stupid, you know.”
“Well…You clearly don’t know how easily I can make Gee believe what I want him to.”
There was clear uncertainty in Melanie’s voice and Mikey laughed, leaning over Melanie to whisper in her ear.
“Who are you trying to convince sweetheart? Me or you?”
“Sweetheart huh?” She laughed, using the moment to claw back control. “This does not bode well for Gerard.”

Melanie slapped Mikey and turned on her heels. Walking toward the wall she flicked a switch and the rope began to rise until Mikey’s hands were held above his head, his feet just barely touching the floor. She found herself smiling as he desperately tried to hide the pain of the cuffs cutting into his wrists. It didn’t matter what he said, she had control.

Returning to her dungeon and Gerard, Melanie sighed heavily and he looked up at her with a questioning look on his face.

“I really don’t think Mikey likes you very much, baby Gee.”
“Well, I haven’t given him much reason to, have I? But what particularly gave you that idea?”

Melanie sat beside Gee and rested a hand on his thigh.

“Well, he was teasing me, and he called me sweetheart - you know how I feel about that. What am I going to do with you, Gee?”
“You don’t have to do anything,” he turned his eyes toward her, soft and seductive. “You could just punish me and we carry on as if nothing happened.”
“Everyone makes mistakes,” she smiled. “Is that what you mean?”
“Yeah,” he smiled. “He’s my brother, it was a moment of weakness.”
“But your weakness isn’t for your brother, is it?”

Gerard swallowed as she continued.

“Don’t think I don’t know about your obsession with that tattooed dwarf,” she smirked, slapping his cheek a little too hard to be friendly.
“I’m playing the…”
“The distraught brother does not need to kiss and caress his brother’s housemate to prove he cares.”
“You’ve been spying on me!” He raged, pulling on the ropes to no avail. Shaking his head, he almost laughed. “Ray! Frank did see him.”
“Yes, he did, and he saw you. We gave you the opportunity to prove us wrong, but you couldn’t even manage that, could you? Now, I haven’t decided what I want to do to you yet, but I want him to see.”

Melanie stood, reaching around behind Gee to cut the rope from his wrists, pulling him to his feet with a hand around his throat.

“You don’t think I’m going to just go with you willingly without putting up a fight do you?” Gerard growled angrily.

Melanie squeezed Gee’s throat tighter and held on for ten seconds before letting him go.

“I think you’re going to do what I tell you because you don’t want Mikey to get hurt, and because you don’t want me to hurt you and I mean really hurt you.”

Gerard scoffed, putting a hand on Melanie’s hip and grabbing her hair with the other. She scowled at him and raised her knife but Gerard caught her wrist with the hand that was on her hip.

“Really Melanie? You’re going to stab me with the knife I gave you? The knife I taught you how to use?”

Gee held Melanie’s wrist tightly, making sure to grind the small bones to try and get her to let the knife go.

“I’m sorry Gee, I never wanted it to come to this. I didn’t believe Ray. I really hoped he was wrong. Why did you do it? I would have let Mikey go if you’d just asked me.”

Melanie sounded sincere, almost like she was going to cry, catching Gerard off guard and he loosened his grip on her wrist. That was all it took. Gerard swore loudly as Melanie stabbed him in the hand, the knife going straight through. Furious with himself as much as with her, he glared as he clutched at his bleeding hand, trying to stem the flow.

“I’m not afraid to hurt you to get you to do what I want you to, Gee. Next time? Next time I’ll stab you somewhere much more important. Got it?”

Not even waiting for a reply, Melanie dragged Gee the rest of the way to Ray’s dungeon and shoved him into the chair next to Mikey, tying his hands behind his back and to one of the slats in the chair so he couldn’t get up. Finding one of the cloths that Ray used to clean his knives, she folded it into a makeshift bandage and fastened it around his hand.

“Ray wouldn’t appreciate it if your blood messed up his dungeon, would he? He’s so meticulous. Now, we have the business of you…” Melanie turned to Mikey and firmly grasped his chin and turned him to face Gerard, “…being a little smart ass to me. I can't just let that go, can I? And I think I know just how I’m going to deal with it.”

Letting go of Mikey, Melanie strode over to the cabinet that contained Frank and picked up the baseball bat she’d taken from his house. She dragged it across the floor and stood in front of Gerard, using it to lean against and lifting his head with a finger under his chin.

“Still want to take Mikey’s pain, Gerard? I think he deserves to take it for himself.”

Melanie smiled at Gerard and swung the bat in Mikey’s direction but stopped short of hitting him in the face. Mikey looked at the bat, his eyes widening when he realised how much it looked like the one he and Frank had at home but he didn’t voice this to Melanie, or to his brother, because that made it real. No, it wasn’t the one he and Frank had at home, it was just a bat that Melanie had in the dungeon.

“I asked you a question, and you of all people know, that when I ask a question…” Melanie took a calculated swing with the bat and hit Mikey in the stomach, he grunted in pain and the chair creaked aggressively when Gerard lent forward in it. “…I expect an answer.”

Melanie raised the bat again, looking at Gerard as she swung it in Mikey’s direction.


Stopping just before she hit Mikey, Melanie used it to lean on again and looked at Gerard, expectant.

“Yes, I want to take Mikey’s pain. But, you already knew I was going to say that, didn’t you?”
“You want to take his pain? I'll give you pain.” Melanie shrugged with a smile.
“You of all people know that family means everything to me. That I’d do anything for the people I care about.”

Melanie’s smile disappeared and she schooled her face to look frustrated instead. She knew exactly what Gerard was referring to, and she knew exactly how she was going to use it against him.

“I don’t like this ‘new’ you, Gee Baby, he has far too much attitude. Maybe I should beat it out of you.”


Frank felt sick. His head was swimming and at first all he was aware of was the resultant nausea. He opened his eyes slowly but it didn't seem to make any difference; it was just as dark either way. Closing his eyes again, exhausted and lightheaded, Frank slipped into unconsciousness once more.

He had no way of knowing how long it had been since he last woke but he was certain it was at least an hour or more. He wasn’t feeling queasy any more and his head seemed to have shed the wool that had clouded his mind. He wasn't certain which situation was better however, as he got a sense of his predicament. Barely able to move, he became aware of the intricate pattern of rope that held his arms uncomfortably tight against his body. His hands tied with little feeling left in his fingers. Similarly, his knees and ankles were tightly bound. His situation was made infinitely worse by his cramped position. With what feeling he had, he could tell he was surrounded by wood and it was very dark, hot and stuffy. He gasped at the possibility that he might be buried alive, only then, feeling the gag pulled deep into his mouth, pressing on his dry tongue.


The cry for help emerged incomplete, almost unintelligible and so severely muffled as to be a whisper.

Panic began to bubble deep within him like the rumble of a volcano that threatened an eruption. Trying hard to stem his fear and the accompanying anxious and breathless gasping that he knew would follow, Frank tried to swallow but finding it impossible, his anxiety reached up like a ball in his throat, blocking his voice still further. He wanted to scream, to thrash, to kick, ultimately to escape, but equally he was terrified that if he did, no one would come. Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead and he heard a faint whimper in the darkness, only to realise that it was emerging from his own throat. Pulling on the ropes and twisting his hands and arms in desperation, tears sprang to his widened horrified eyes as nothing gave even a fraction of an inch.

That sound again. His muffled whimper. If he weren’t bound so tightly, he would know he was trembling.

Think, think think.

Finally recalling what had happened to him, a tiny flicker of hope forced its way into his mind. Did Gerard know where he was? Gerard would save him. He was sure. Quite sure. Reasonably sure. But what if he didn’t know? What if he was buried? He’d never find him.

He cried for help again, demanding to be let go. His heart and soul went into the desperate cry, but he knew without question that no one had heard him. He had barely heard himself. The dryness of his throat and the effectiveness of the gag preventing almost all sound.

He tried frantically to kick at what could have been his coffin, but his legs were so numb he couldn't coordinate them. Trying hard to shift his position to allow blood flow to regain some feeling was useless, there was simply no room to move. In fact, he was uncertain how he had been forced in in the first place, it was so cramped.

Tears stung his eyes as his fears and anxiety overwhelmed him and he shut them tightly, trying to stem their flow but that only seemed to push them out faster. Logically he knew that for his own safety he had to keep his breathing under control to conserve air and not to lose precious fluids to tears, but both seemed beyond his abilities. Perhaps, he allowed himself the thought, it would be better to die faster than slower. Shaking his head, he tried his best to push the thought from his mind.

It was at that moment that he realised his situation wasn’t what he had assumed. Clearly through whatever container he was held in, he could hear a woman’s voice. It could only be Melanie. She was talking to someone. He couldn't hear the words, but what came next was unmistakable. A loud ragged scream of someone in severe pain. A few more words and another pained cry. Another voice shouting through the pain begging her not to hurt him, whoever he was. But he could guess. The voice belonged to Mikey; he recognised him easily. He must be Gerard. She had all of them now. Who would stop her now? Certainly not Ray. No, his situation wasn't what he had thought - it was worse.

He was listening closely now, some words he could make out, but not others. Shouts and screams, he could hear all too well and there were far too many of them.


Gerard was trembling, his fists clenched, breaths pulled in in fitful gasps. His head hung low and it seemed that the only thing holding him upright were the ropes around his upper arms.
“Stop it!” Mikey screamed, lowering his eyes to see his brother, his eyes tightly closed and grimacing with pain beside him.

“You want some of this instead?” Melanie pressed herself against Mikey’s now exposed chest and pressing the tip of the bat into his neck until she forced him to look away from Gerard.
“No,” Gerard whispered weakly, coughing with the agony of pulling himself upright again.
“What you don’t realise, kid, is that your brother gets off on this,” she laughed at the disconcerted expression on Mikey’s face.

Turning to face Gerard, Melanie narrowed her eyes at him as she noticed the pain and exhaustion settled on his face along with no outward indication that he was enjoying himself in the slightest.

“Oh, but what have we here?” She moved over to stand beside Gerard, pressing the bat’s tip into his jaw, she angled his head upward and toward her. “Are those real tears, Gerard? Am I genuinely hurting you? Hmm?” she asked, pausing briefly. “Well, am I?” she yelled as she received no answer.
“I won’t let you hurt Mikey,” he gasped in response.

Melanie laughed, her smile broadening as she reached up and pulled on Mikey’s left forearm, still securely fastened above his head, eliciting a yelp of pain.

“You think you can stop me?”

Gerard’s head flopped back as once more he sagged, the ropes biting into his wrists as he slumped, unable to support his weight.

“You know what, Gerard?”

She stepped away and walked slowly to a cupboard, and opening it, admired the contents before selecting a prized possession; a five-tailed medieval scourge.

“I think this calls for one of the toys Ray bought for me. This is an antique scourge, instead of pieces of plastic or beads, this one has small sharp fragments of bone and blades embedded in the tails. It’s quite beautiful. Did you know he occasionally buys me little gifts?” she asked, wrapping the scourge loosely around his neck before pulling it away quickly – the sharp fragments protruding from the leather thongs tearing at his skin.

The suddenness and violence of the motion drawing an almost soundless scream from his lips as blood leaked from what felt a thousand cuts around his neck. His eyes rolled back as his body stiffened then sagged. Trying desperately to peel himself away from the arms of unconsciousness that had come to claim him, Gerard gasped for breath, forcing his nails into his palms as he clung to wakefulness – he was no good to Mikey if he was unconscious.

“I said, did you know Ray occasionally buys me little gifts?”
“No,” Gerard whispered hoarsely.
“Did you know that my relationship with Ray is nothing like ours?” she teased him with information she knew would hurt.
“Yes, I know!” Gerard spat with anger and humiliation staining his voice.
“You were a fool, Gerard! You thought I dominated Ray like I did you. You tolerated my relationship with Ray because you thought it was as forced as ours was. But it isn’t,” she laughed cruelly as his expression began to show less physical and more emotional pain. “It’s hot, passionate, mutual and equal. We both get what we want, often! Usually when I had you locked up down here waiting for whatever scraps I was prepared to throw you! You wouldn’t know a real relationship if your life depended on it!”
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong!” he screamed, hot tears of anguish and humiliation streaming down his face.
“Oh, Gerard, are you talking about dear Frankie?” she chuckled callously, pressing herself against him to whisper in his ear.

Nauseous and angry, Gerard tried unsuccessfully to shrug her off, but she clung, digging her nails into his shoulders.

“Yeah, I am!” he snapped angrily, knowing with every word that she would make him regret it. “And in the short time I’ve known him, he means more to me than you ever have or ever could!” he raged, allowing years of repressed anger to flow into the brief tirade.
“Oh!” she pouted, drawing out the word before letting go, to Gerard’s initial relief.

Heading back to the cupboard, she reached down and slid a wooden panel aside and, reaching in, dragged the bound, gagged and beaten and bruised form of Frank out into the dungeon. What little cool air was in the dungeon now overwhelmed Frank after the cramped, hot and stifling space he had been forced into earlier. Finally able to stretch out his legs, Frank collapsed, breathing hard, dizzy and lightheaded; barely able to even see clearly, never mind acknowledge the room’s occupants.

“You mean this?” she spat with contempt.
“Frankie!” Mikey cried, able to see better from his position. “No… no!” he shouted in desperation as he pulled hard on the chains holding him to no avail. “Gerard! You have to do something!”

Gerard stared helplessly between Frank and Mikey. Finally, he locked eyes with Melanie, and her smile grew as the pair reached an unspoken mutual understanding. He knew, in that moment, that she was determined to kill them all.



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