In The Middle Of A Gunfight
Come out, come out little pig, little pig
“Where are you going?” I heard Ville ask, Finnish accent lacing his tired words.
“Nowhere, now go back to sleep.” I replied bluntly, pulling on my knee-length black jacket.
“Where?” he asked again, his eyes accusing as he stared at me, probing for an answer. The black of the couch blended with his tight leather pants but contrasted starkly against the white of his shirtless chest.
“Does it matter?” I answered with a huff, frustration getting the better of me.
I guess he realized then where I was going. His face softened then crumpled, sitting up he pulled his legs under him and looked at me, “Why? I don’t get why you have to.”
I let out a groan and narrowed my eyes at him, “Ville, it’s not your problem. Just shut up and let me do as I please. It’s no repercussion on you if something happens.”
“No repercussion on me? Oh, right of course. So if you die in some stupid fucking shoot-out it’s not going to matter to me, huh!” he growled.
“Fuck, why do you have to do this? Every fucking time! It’s annoying,” I replied sourly, “Hell, I’d hate to have to date you or something. You’re so fucking clingy and needy”
I regretted those words after seeing the hurt flood his emerald eyes but the pain was quickly replaced with anger.
“Fuck you, Francis. You’re an arrogant prick. You’re just as bad as him!” he spat, emphasizing the ‘him’ then storming out of the room.
Of course, I knew who he was referring to – Gerard Way.
Gerard Way is the kingpin, if you so will, of a gang ruling over the other half of Chicago, The Sweet Revenge. The Sweet Revenge and The Nightmare Convictions had been locked in constant plots of vengeance for years, as long as anyone in this town could remember.
I guess it was kind of a love/hate relationship now, almost to the point where I’d aim badly on purpose. In a way this war gave me reason, gave me purpose. If it ever stopped I can’t imagine what else I’d be doing.
Gerard was the kind of person who was manipulative and heartless but you could tell there was something more. Somewhere under the theatrical make-up and Godfather-like status there was someone human.
Moments later Ville emerged, now wearing a tight black shirt clinging to his skin, and still wearing the leather pants he’d been wearing for about a week now, “You do realize you go after them every freaking night and neither you nor them get any closer to killing one another” he commented bluntly. I shrugged, but didn’t really pay attention until his voice came again, asking, “Well, are we going?”
“We?”
“Yes, if you’re going then I’m coming too.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Why not?”
“You’re not part of this”
“But you are. And if you are, I want to be”
There was a silence.
“No, you don’t. You don’t ever want to be a part of this, Ville.”
“Just let me come, please.”
He pouted his rose pink lips and I gave in, “Fine, but shut up and don’t do anything stupid.”
“Where are the Jakes?” Nick asked, opening the car door but stopping abruptly when he saw Ville sitting in the car, “and more to the point, what’s he doing here?”
“To put the story in a three-second recap Jake W and Jake D is in crap with the cops for setting that place down near the skate park on fire and Ville’s here because…well, really I don’t know.”
Angel groaned, “If he gets me shot...” he muttered under his breath.
“Way’s down near the wreckers.” Nick informed, putting his cell-phone back in his pocket.
“Travis’ wrecker place?” I asked, referring to Travis Ritcher’s dump of car bodies.
“Yep, Von D says she saw him and his gang down there.” he said, glancing over at Ville.
“There, there he is.” I whispered, shoving Ville. Ville dropped his cigarette in surprise at my sudden outburst and frowned as he watched the bright red light at the tip of the cigarette fade to nothing.
“So, shoot at him. Then he can shoot at you. Then you can have a gunfight and I’ll sit here and smoke. Then when you’re both out of ammo I can go home and sleep” he replied, sounding not the slightest bit interested.
I chose to ignore him and crawled, hands and knees, behind a stack of boxes piled up in an alley. My gun clinked on the cold streets and I could hear Ville muttering under his breath. I turned around to tell him to shut up but then I heard a gunshot.
“Come out, come out little pig, little pig,” the all-too-familiar voice of Gerard sang out to the empty streets, “or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in.”
That taunting, sing-song voice sent shivers down my spine; it reminded me of one of those messed-up serial killers.
Nick raised his gun and jumped to a stand. He shot rapidly, aiming first for Gerard then his right-hand man, Frank Iero.
“Where’s the rest of your play-group, Nicky?” Gerard taunted, joker-smile on his finely structured face.
“Right here” Angel growled, taking a shot in Ray Toro’s general direction. The two randomly began shooting at each other, distracting attention from me.
I stayed frozen in my crouched position and waited. I heard Gerard approaching. I jumped to my feet and shot, the bullet speeding from the barrel. Gerard dodged it just in time and let a smirk creep upon his face before shooting again. The wind blew his red tie against his white oxford and his jet-black hair fluttered against his sneering face.
There were more gunshots and I managed to dodge the bullets that sped from Gerard’s gun. I noticed something move quickly out of the corner of my eye, a blur of yellow. My eyes focused rapidly and I recognized the blur to be Pete Wentz. Gerard may be able to protect himself but what could he do for his pretty-boy side-kick?
I took good aim at Gerard’s show-pony, Wentz, but missed by barely a centimeter. Gerard’s eyes darkened as he heard Pete’s shrill cry. Pete, who hadn’t even been hit by the bullet, sucked royally as a gunman – most of the time he just followed Gerard, knowing he’d keep him safe.
Gerard took a step closer, everything else seemed to slow down, and held his gun in direct line with my forehead. I choked on my breath but then he spun swiftly and took a clean shot at Ville who’d been sitting on a gallon-drum, smoking his cigarette daintily. He tumbled off the drum, not before unleashing a piercing scream.
I wanted, I needed, to go see if Ville was ok. I held my hands high and let my silver gun drop with a metallic clink at the exact time I heard Nick do the same. I nodded at Angel who looked annoyed but also dropped his gun. Backing away slowly I kept my eyes on Gerard who was smirking in the most self-assuring, arrogant way possible. Spinning on his heel he signaled for The Sweet Revenge to leave and they all obeyed in an instant.
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Yes...yes i did make travis own a wrecker yard, lol :]
__________________________________________
“Nowhere, now go back to sleep.” I replied bluntly, pulling on my knee-length black jacket.
“Where?” he asked again, his eyes accusing as he stared at me, probing for an answer. The black of the couch blended with his tight leather pants but contrasted starkly against the white of his shirtless chest.
“Does it matter?” I answered with a huff, frustration getting the better of me.
I guess he realized then where I was going. His face softened then crumpled, sitting up he pulled his legs under him and looked at me, “Why? I don’t get why you have to.”
I let out a groan and narrowed my eyes at him, “Ville, it’s not your problem. Just shut up and let me do as I please. It’s no repercussion on you if something happens.”
“No repercussion on me? Oh, right of course. So if you die in some stupid fucking shoot-out it’s not going to matter to me, huh!” he growled.
“Fuck, why do you have to do this? Every fucking time! It’s annoying,” I replied sourly, “Hell, I’d hate to have to date you or something. You’re so fucking clingy and needy”
I regretted those words after seeing the hurt flood his emerald eyes but the pain was quickly replaced with anger.
“Fuck you, Francis. You’re an arrogant prick. You’re just as bad as him!” he spat, emphasizing the ‘him’ then storming out of the room.
Of course, I knew who he was referring to – Gerard Way.
Gerard Way is the kingpin, if you so will, of a gang ruling over the other half of Chicago, The Sweet Revenge. The Sweet Revenge and The Nightmare Convictions had been locked in constant plots of vengeance for years, as long as anyone in this town could remember.
I guess it was kind of a love/hate relationship now, almost to the point where I’d aim badly on purpose. In a way this war gave me reason, gave me purpose. If it ever stopped I can’t imagine what else I’d be doing.
Gerard was the kind of person who was manipulative and heartless but you could tell there was something more. Somewhere under the theatrical make-up and Godfather-like status there was someone human.
Moments later Ville emerged, now wearing a tight black shirt clinging to his skin, and still wearing the leather pants he’d been wearing for about a week now, “You do realize you go after them every freaking night and neither you nor them get any closer to killing one another” he commented bluntly. I shrugged, but didn’t really pay attention until his voice came again, asking, “Well, are we going?”
“We?”
“Yes, if you’re going then I’m coming too.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Why not?”
“You’re not part of this”
“But you are. And if you are, I want to be”
There was a silence.
“No, you don’t. You don’t ever want to be a part of this, Ville.”
“Just let me come, please.”
He pouted his rose pink lips and I gave in, “Fine, but shut up and don’t do anything stupid.”
“Where are the Jakes?” Nick asked, opening the car door but stopping abruptly when he saw Ville sitting in the car, “and more to the point, what’s he doing here?”
“To put the story in a three-second recap Jake W and Jake D is in crap with the cops for setting that place down near the skate park on fire and Ville’s here because…well, really I don’t know.”
Angel groaned, “If he gets me shot...” he muttered under his breath.
“Way’s down near the wreckers.” Nick informed, putting his cell-phone back in his pocket.
“Travis’ wrecker place?” I asked, referring to Travis Ritcher’s dump of car bodies.
“Yep, Von D says she saw him and his gang down there.” he said, glancing over at Ville.
“There, there he is.” I whispered, shoving Ville. Ville dropped his cigarette in surprise at my sudden outburst and frowned as he watched the bright red light at the tip of the cigarette fade to nothing.
“So, shoot at him. Then he can shoot at you. Then you can have a gunfight and I’ll sit here and smoke. Then when you’re both out of ammo I can go home and sleep” he replied, sounding not the slightest bit interested.
I chose to ignore him and crawled, hands and knees, behind a stack of boxes piled up in an alley. My gun clinked on the cold streets and I could hear Ville muttering under his breath. I turned around to tell him to shut up but then I heard a gunshot.
“Come out, come out little pig, little pig,” the all-too-familiar voice of Gerard sang out to the empty streets, “or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in.”
That taunting, sing-song voice sent shivers down my spine; it reminded me of one of those messed-up serial killers.
Nick raised his gun and jumped to a stand. He shot rapidly, aiming first for Gerard then his right-hand man, Frank Iero.
“Where’s the rest of your play-group, Nicky?” Gerard taunted, joker-smile on his finely structured face.
“Right here” Angel growled, taking a shot in Ray Toro’s general direction. The two randomly began shooting at each other, distracting attention from me.
I stayed frozen in my crouched position and waited. I heard Gerard approaching. I jumped to my feet and shot, the bullet speeding from the barrel. Gerard dodged it just in time and let a smirk creep upon his face before shooting again. The wind blew his red tie against his white oxford and his jet-black hair fluttered against his sneering face.
There were more gunshots and I managed to dodge the bullets that sped from Gerard’s gun. I noticed something move quickly out of the corner of my eye, a blur of yellow. My eyes focused rapidly and I recognized the blur to be Pete Wentz. Gerard may be able to protect himself but what could he do for his pretty-boy side-kick?
I took good aim at Gerard’s show-pony, Wentz, but missed by barely a centimeter. Gerard’s eyes darkened as he heard Pete’s shrill cry. Pete, who hadn’t even been hit by the bullet, sucked royally as a gunman – most of the time he just followed Gerard, knowing he’d keep him safe.
Gerard took a step closer, everything else seemed to slow down, and held his gun in direct line with my forehead. I choked on my breath but then he spun swiftly and took a clean shot at Ville who’d been sitting on a gallon-drum, smoking his cigarette daintily. He tumbled off the drum, not before unleashing a piercing scream.
I wanted, I needed, to go see if Ville was ok. I held my hands high and let my silver gun drop with a metallic clink at the exact time I heard Nick do the same. I nodded at Angel who looked annoyed but also dropped his gun. Backing away slowly I kept my eyes on Gerard who was smirking in the most self-assuring, arrogant way possible. Spinning on his heel he signaled for The Sweet Revenge to leave and they all obeyed in an instant.
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Yes...yes i did make travis own a wrecker yard, lol :]
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