‹ Prequel: The Black parade
3 Cheers For Sweet Revenge
The Jet Set Life Is Gonna Kill You
Hotel "Buella Muerte"
I'm here now. Such a filthy mess I had left behind.
I was too eager, too sloppy with my actions.
(You did well)
Shut up Black.
12 Hours ago...
They lay dead at my feet, their once warm blood mixing with the filth of my cell.
The floor became slick from the spillage, sticky between my dirt crusted toes.
I did what the voice told me to do. I started screaming, making noises to lure the goons back to my cell.
When they came in, I brought the edge of my tin cup hard across the first guards jugular.
I had been hiding in the shadows, sharpening one of the edges into a sharp jagged keeness.
I hid in the shadows until they came in.
The guard sputtered and gasped, coughing up flecks of blood as he spasmed and writhed on the floor.
His comrades burst in, billy clubs drawn. I had relieved the dying man of his pepper mace, and sprayed a heavy dosage into their faces.
As they collapsed, screaming in agony, I went to make my escape.
(Where are you going Grey?)
Leaving, like you said.
(No no no! You must finish them off.)
Why?
(So they don't call for help, or follow you stupid!)
The voice was right.
I had no choice.
I picked up one of the billy clubs and proceeded to go to work on them, the faint traces of mace burning the corners of my eyes, nose, and mouth.
10 hours ago
I picked up the dead mans cell phone, I was sitting in the passenger seat of his 1991 Ford Escort.
I dialed up the only number that I could remember. Here I was, naked, blood spackled, dirty, and a splintered bloody baton in my hand.
"Hello?" spoke the familiar comforting voice.
"Dr. Kipling!" I shouted into the phone.
"Who is this?" demanded the man.
"It's me, Grey!"
There was silence for a moment before he answered, "Grey, what are you doing on the phone? Aren't you in prison for another year?"
"No no! I got out! I escaped!"
(That's not important..)
"But that's not important! I need your help!"
"Grey, listen very very carefully to me. You need to turn yourself in now. Your escape is all over the news!" he said in a hushed tone.
"I know! I made a mess of things!"
"Why?! I don't understand any of th-"
"He's back Doc!" I interrupted.
"Who is back?!" he said in a flabbergasted tone.
"Black."
The line was silent for a long time.
"Doc?! You there?! You gotta help me! He made me do those horrible things to the guards...and the people...I can't control him without meds!" I shouted.
"Yes Grey, I'm here! They weren't giving you Haldol like they were supposed to?! But that was a court order!"
I ducked down in the car that was pulled over in the vacant lot where I was hiding, "Look, I need help! He's out of control!"
(Gaze into her killing jar, sometimes stare for hours...ha! She's next you know.)
"Shut up! Shut up!"
"Grey?! Who are you talking to?"
"No one Doc! Look you gotta meet me somewhere!" I pleaded.
Silence again.
(He won't help you! Just because he was your psychiatrist, doesn't mean shit! He'll call the cops on you!)
I ignored Black.
"I don't know Grey, you've really screwed up this time you know that?! The cops are already following the bodies you left behind in your escape! I mean, you went and sodomized one of the guards with a billy club!" Dr. Kiplinger shouted through the phone.
"I know that! But it wasn't me! It was Black! He did those things!"
I heard Dr. Kiplinger sigh heavily on his end, "Okay, look. Get yourself to this location. We'll meet there!"
I copied down the address he gave me over the phone, writing it down with a pen I found in the glove compartment and a napkin.
"Got it! I'm on my way!"
"Grey listen! Stay low, keep out of sight, and don't do anything else wreckless or stupid!"
Dr. Kiplinger warned.
I nodded, "I know!"
"Good, I'll see you in one hour!"
I hung up and turned to look at the dead body next to me, his face caved in at the mouth and nose.
(You'd best take his clothes, money, and car.)
I had to agree with him.
I quickly dragged the body out of the car, stripped it, donned the clothes but left the blood stained shirt and jacket alone, only wearing the relatively cleaner undershirt.
(To the trunk)
I dumped the body in the trunk, got back in the car, and my way to the location.
I'm here now. Such a filthy mess I had left behind.
I was too eager, too sloppy with my actions.
(You did well)
Shut up Black.
12 Hours ago...
They lay dead at my feet, their once warm blood mixing with the filth of my cell.
The floor became slick from the spillage, sticky between my dirt crusted toes.
I did what the voice told me to do. I started screaming, making noises to lure the goons back to my cell.
When they came in, I brought the edge of my tin cup hard across the first guards jugular.
I had been hiding in the shadows, sharpening one of the edges into a sharp jagged keeness.
I hid in the shadows until they came in.
The guard sputtered and gasped, coughing up flecks of blood as he spasmed and writhed on the floor.
His comrades burst in, billy clubs drawn. I had relieved the dying man of his pepper mace, and sprayed a heavy dosage into their faces.
As they collapsed, screaming in agony, I went to make my escape.
(Where are you going Grey?)
Leaving, like you said.
(No no no! You must finish them off.)
Why?
(So they don't call for help, or follow you stupid!)
The voice was right.
I had no choice.
I picked up one of the billy clubs and proceeded to go to work on them, the faint traces of mace burning the corners of my eyes, nose, and mouth.
10 hours ago
I picked up the dead mans cell phone, I was sitting in the passenger seat of his 1991 Ford Escort.
I dialed up the only number that I could remember. Here I was, naked, blood spackled, dirty, and a splintered bloody baton in my hand.
"Hello?" spoke the familiar comforting voice.
"Dr. Kipling!" I shouted into the phone.
"Who is this?" demanded the man.
"It's me, Grey!"
There was silence for a moment before he answered, "Grey, what are you doing on the phone? Aren't you in prison for another year?"
"No no! I got out! I escaped!"
(That's not important..)
"But that's not important! I need your help!"
"Grey, listen very very carefully to me. You need to turn yourself in now. Your escape is all over the news!" he said in a hushed tone.
"I know! I made a mess of things!"
"Why?! I don't understand any of th-"
"He's back Doc!" I interrupted.
"Who is back?!" he said in a flabbergasted tone.
"Black."
The line was silent for a long time.
"Doc?! You there?! You gotta help me! He made me do those horrible things to the guards...and the people...I can't control him without meds!" I shouted.
"Yes Grey, I'm here! They weren't giving you Haldol like they were supposed to?! But that was a court order!"
I ducked down in the car that was pulled over in the vacant lot where I was hiding, "Look, I need help! He's out of control!"
(Gaze into her killing jar, sometimes stare for hours...ha! She's next you know.)
"Shut up! Shut up!"
"Grey?! Who are you talking to?"
"No one Doc! Look you gotta meet me somewhere!" I pleaded.
Silence again.
(He won't help you! Just because he was your psychiatrist, doesn't mean shit! He'll call the cops on you!)
I ignored Black.
"I don't know Grey, you've really screwed up this time you know that?! The cops are already following the bodies you left behind in your escape! I mean, you went and sodomized one of the guards with a billy club!" Dr. Kiplinger shouted through the phone.
"I know that! But it wasn't me! It was Black! He did those things!"
I heard Dr. Kiplinger sigh heavily on his end, "Okay, look. Get yourself to this location. We'll meet there!"
I copied down the address he gave me over the phone, writing it down with a pen I found in the glove compartment and a napkin.
"Got it! I'm on my way!"
"Grey listen! Stay low, keep out of sight, and don't do anything else wreckless or stupid!"
Dr. Kiplinger warned.
I nodded, "I know!"
"Good, I'll see you in one hour!"
I hung up and turned to look at the dead body next to me, his face caved in at the mouth and nose.
(You'd best take his clothes, money, and car.)
I had to agree with him.
I quickly dragged the body out of the car, stripped it, donned the clothes but left the blood stained shirt and jacket alone, only wearing the relatively cleaner undershirt.
(To the trunk)
I dumped the body in the trunk, got back in the car, and my way to the location.