Dead!

Frank sat shivering violently under the thin bed sheets. His cold skin creating no warmth against the material.

"Hey." A voice beside him sounded.

Franks head snapped up sharply, staring directly into to 'oh-so-calm' eyes of Gerard.
His anger at him was unbearable. Way past the point of shouting, way past the point of crying. Just pure anger.

"What the hell Gerard." He spat "what did you do to me?"

"Frank, I did nothing to you at all."

"Then why Gerard. Why do I look like a corpse, and why the fuck did you leave me in a cold room thinking I was going to die in here."

"Frank, I told you. You are dead now and I'm sorry. Your body couldn't handle the crossing like I told you and we had to do this or you would have ended up in the ghosts realm. And trust me, Anything is better than there. Oh it's so dull an-"

"Gerard just tell me what's happened. So I can fucking understand."

"Franklin, you're in the black parade. Which is like the afterlife, but so much more fun" he winked "We are the walking dead, and please don't go on to me about your appearance. I think it looks hot anyway" He winked again and frank realised that he wasn't wearing anything under the sheets, which only made his temper worse. Gerard's easy going attitude was really starting to piss him off.

"But seriously this place is great. You should come look round with me.. well you can get dressed first." He said, throwing a bundle of black material into frank's lap and walking through the wall like it was the most casual thing in the world.

Frank pulled on the clothes (which consisted of tight black jeans, combat boots, and a black dress shirt) and started to pace round the room.

Dead? Really? But why would he do that.. maybe he drugged me, maybe he was just a dodgy person all along and I'm hallucinating. But fuck, nothing fits.

Frank's mind was working overtime. He refused to accept the impossible. Because there's a logical way round everything, Right?

But he'd agreed to this. He'd made no objection to talking to a stranger, meeting up with him and even agreeing to keep it a secret. It was all his fault. If he'd just had some common sense..

Frank stood with his fists clenched in the centre of the room. "Fuck you" he said aloud to nobody in particular.

He said it again, louder. And soon he was smashing his fists into the impenetrable walls cursing wildly while the tears streamed from his hollow eyes.

"let me go." He screamed

Dropping to the floor and hugging his knees to his chest sobbing quietly

"let me go."

---------

White. But not white. Even brighter than white.

That was the colour of the light streaming into frank's vision from a rectangular opening in the wall.

So apparently doors just appeared now.

Frank edged cautiously towards it, scrunching up his face at the blinding brightness.

There were sounds coming from the other side too. The kind of drumbeat that accompanies a marching band, And a wailing, screeching sound that made franks ears ring.

He stretched his hand out towards the light and lost sight of it immediately.

He slowly crept forward, not caring what might on the other side. The word escape clouded his mind.

The other side, he discovered when he fell headfirst into it. Wasn't what he'd been expecting.

It was another room, the same as the first but with deep black walls and no trace of the 'door' he'd just come through.

There was a small speaker in one corner where the drumbeat seemed to be coming from. There was also a small table with a chair on either side of it, like the ones police use for interrogations.

He examined the smooth walls but found no mark or scratch.

'Like walking into a dream'. Frank thought replaying a song he'd heard once before in his head. 'So unlike what you've seen. So unsure but it seems, 'cause we've been waiting for you, Fallen into this place, just giving you a small taste. Of your afterlife here so stay. You'll be back here soon anyway.'

Madness. You find it in the strangest of places.