Status: On hiatus indefinitely.
This Night, Walk The Dead
That's How I See This Ending
[Frank]
By six I had reached the flat. And the sun had begun to rise. Which meant I had approximately 10 minutes to get my stuff and get out before the landlord had his shower and came to take my things as "payment". The first thing I noticed when I opened the door was that everything was everywhere. The second thing I noticed was that while this wasn't unusual, everything was in different places than it was last.
"Gerard." I muttered angrily. "Stupid idiot leaving his crap everywhere. Why can't he just go wreck something that isn't my life for once?"
"Because that isn't Gerard's style, Frank. You know that."
I whirled around. "What the f… Rayne?"
At the mention of his name, Rayne hopped down off the bench, which I'm certain was empty moments ago, and made what could only be described as 'spirit fingers'.
"The one and only. So tell me, how are you enjoying your morning?"
All the personality of a game-show host, but with none of the prizes.
"What are you doing in my flat?"
"Your flat? Well don't worry; it won't be yours much longer. I'd give it 2 minutes till Steve's here."
"Steve? How do you know Steve?"
"One minute forty-five." He tapped his finger on his wrist, where his watch would be, if he were wearing one.
"Why are you in my flat and how do you know Steve's my landlord?"
"One minute thirrrrrrty." He seemed to be enjoying this.
"Are you going to answer me or not?" I yelled
"One minute twwwwwwenty."
"Fine. I'm getting my stuff and leaving. You can do whatever you want, I don't care." I moved towards the bedroom.
"I think I'll just hang around here then." He swung himself back onto the bench.
"Didn't you hear me? I. Don't. CARE." I wrenched open the bedroom door and went inside, slamming it shut behind me.
"I think you do-oooooooooooo." Came a sing-song voice, much better suited to three year-olds.
"Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong." I muttered under my breath.
"RIGHT!" he yelled through the closed door.
he heard that?
I grabbed my guitar and shoved it in its case, and swung the case over my shoulder, wearing it like a backpack. I was shoving clothes into a bag when the door opened behind me.
"Sooooooooooooooooooo, do you want your jacket back or not?"
"She can keep the fucking jacket for all I care, as long as you let me do this in peace!" I shoved the last of my clothes into the bag.
"Ooooh…. Temper."
"At least I’m not talking like a toddler."
"Oh! I'm hurt. You've cut me deep Frank. How could you say such a thing?" he paused for dramatic measure, then put the back of his hand to his forehead. "How could Evie ever say you were a nice person? You’re such a-"
"She said what now?" I interrupted.
Rayne straightened from his 'I'm fainting' pose.
"Can't tell you that."
"You just did."
"No I didn't."
"Yes, you did."
"No, I didn't."
"Did."
"Didn't"
"Did."
"Didn't"
"Did!"
"Now who's acting like a toddler?" he smirked, pushing his long purple/black hair out of his eyes, when we both heard the front door open. "Oh look, Steve's here!"
He clapped his hands together in childish glee.
Damn. I had to get out, but how could I do that by myself?
"Do you require my assistance?" he asked.
"No." I looked towards the window. Would I survive a 6 floor drop?
"Do you require some assistance?" he asked
Damn him.
"Yes."
"Klein helfen Evie?" he spoke to the roof. "nine?" [little help Evie? - no?]
Right.
“What is it with you guys and German? Would it kill you to speak English? It seriously can't be too hard, you speak English 90 percent of the time anyway"
He sighed and stared at me.
"Have you got a problem with my help?"
"No."
"Okay then. Go to the window."
"But we're on the 6th floor!"
"Blame Elena when you get there."
"Get where? Splattered on the cement? Because that's how I see this ending."
"Do you want to keep your possessions?"
I glanced back at the door; I could hear Steve’s footsteps approaching.
"I don't see why I trust you, I have no reason to trust you, you're probably just some guy Steve hired to kill me before I owed him any more money." I walked over to the window and opened it.
"Now just sit on the ledge."
"You're mad, you know that, right?"
"Yes. Now sit on the ledge."
"Just sit there? How's that going to help?" I asked.
Suddenly I was no longer sitting on the windowsill. I was on bench in a park.
"What the hell? What just happened?" I asked/yelled at the top of my lungs.
"Is that really necessary?" came a voice from my right.
"Evie! How did we get here?" I yelled
"Frank would you shut up?" Rayne hit the back of my head.
"Hey! I’m attached to that!"
"Would you like to keep it that way?" he raised his hand again
"Yes…" I said softly.
I looked up at Rayne. Then at Evie. Then back up at Rayne. Something was definitely going on here.
By six I had reached the flat. And the sun had begun to rise. Which meant I had approximately 10 minutes to get my stuff and get out before the landlord had his shower and came to take my things as "payment". The first thing I noticed when I opened the door was that everything was everywhere. The second thing I noticed was that while this wasn't unusual, everything was in different places than it was last.
"Gerard." I muttered angrily. "Stupid idiot leaving his crap everywhere. Why can't he just go wreck something that isn't my life for once?"
"Because that isn't Gerard's style, Frank. You know that."
I whirled around. "What the f… Rayne?"
At the mention of his name, Rayne hopped down off the bench, which I'm certain was empty moments ago, and made what could only be described as 'spirit fingers'.
"The one and only. So tell me, how are you enjoying your morning?"
All the personality of a game-show host, but with none of the prizes.
"What are you doing in my flat?"
"Your flat? Well don't worry; it won't be yours much longer. I'd give it 2 minutes till Steve's here."
"Steve? How do you know Steve?"
"One minute forty-five." He tapped his finger on his wrist, where his watch would be, if he were wearing one.
"Why are you in my flat and how do you know Steve's my landlord?"
"One minute thirrrrrrty." He seemed to be enjoying this.
"Are you going to answer me or not?" I yelled
"One minute twwwwwwenty."
"Fine. I'm getting my stuff and leaving. You can do whatever you want, I don't care." I moved towards the bedroom.
"I think I'll just hang around here then." He swung himself back onto the bench.
"Didn't you hear me? I. Don't. CARE." I wrenched open the bedroom door and went inside, slamming it shut behind me.
"I think you do-oooooooooooo." Came a sing-song voice, much better suited to three year-olds.
"Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong." I muttered under my breath.
"RIGHT!" he yelled through the closed door.
he heard that?
I grabbed my guitar and shoved it in its case, and swung the case over my shoulder, wearing it like a backpack. I was shoving clothes into a bag when the door opened behind me.
"Sooooooooooooooooooo, do you want your jacket back or not?"
"She can keep the fucking jacket for all I care, as long as you let me do this in peace!" I shoved the last of my clothes into the bag.
"Ooooh…. Temper."
"At least I’m not talking like a toddler."
"Oh! I'm hurt. You've cut me deep Frank. How could you say such a thing?" he paused for dramatic measure, then put the back of his hand to his forehead. "How could Evie ever say you were a nice person? You’re such a-"
"She said what now?" I interrupted.
Rayne straightened from his 'I'm fainting' pose.
"Can't tell you that."
"You just did."
"No I didn't."
"Yes, you did."
"No, I didn't."
"Did."
"Didn't"
"Did."
"Didn't"
"Did!"
"Now who's acting like a toddler?" he smirked, pushing his long purple/black hair out of his eyes, when we both heard the front door open. "Oh look, Steve's here!"
He clapped his hands together in childish glee.
Damn. I had to get out, but how could I do that by myself?
"Do you require my assistance?" he asked.
"No." I looked towards the window. Would I survive a 6 floor drop?
"Do you require some assistance?" he asked
Damn him.
"Yes."
"Klein helfen Evie?" he spoke to the roof. "nine?" [little help Evie? - no?]
Right.
“What is it with you guys and German? Would it kill you to speak English? It seriously can't be too hard, you speak English 90 percent of the time anyway"
He sighed and stared at me.
"Have you got a problem with my help?"
"No."
"Okay then. Go to the window."
"But we're on the 6th floor!"
"Blame Elena when you get there."
"Get where? Splattered on the cement? Because that's how I see this ending."
"Do you want to keep your possessions?"
I glanced back at the door; I could hear Steve’s footsteps approaching.
"I don't see why I trust you, I have no reason to trust you, you're probably just some guy Steve hired to kill me before I owed him any more money." I walked over to the window and opened it.
"Now just sit on the ledge."
"You're mad, you know that, right?"
"Yes. Now sit on the ledge."
"Just sit there? How's that going to help?" I asked.
Suddenly I was no longer sitting on the windowsill. I was on bench in a park.
"What the hell? What just happened?" I asked/yelled at the top of my lungs.
"Is that really necessary?" came a voice from my right.
"Evie! How did we get here?" I yelled
"Frank would you shut up?" Rayne hit the back of my head.
"Hey! I’m attached to that!"
"Would you like to keep it that way?" he raised his hand again
"Yes…" I said softly.
I looked up at Rayne. Then at Evie. Then back up at Rayne. Something was definitely going on here.