All for You

On July 6th, 2014, Frank Iero summons a demon.

Granted, he didn’t think it would actually work. Well, he did, but he didn’t. He’d been told before by his superstitious grandparents that many people have used demon-summoning (when done right) to achieve their goals, but he’d always been a bit skeptical of their claims. He was getting desperate, though, and thus, a demon has now appeared in his bedroom.

For the most part, it looks like a human, though that’s only because of the poor soul whose body it has possessed. It stares at Frank for an impossibly long time from where he’s sitting on his bed before it moves its human lips, speaking slowly and deliberately: “You requested to see me?”

Frank just nods, too dumbfounded and awestruck to say much else. There’s a fucking demon in his bedroom. Now he’s definitely going to have to go through with this. Good thing he’s already made up his mind.

The demon stares at him some more, making Frank squirm and causing a chill to run down his back. This all seems so surreal. “Uh, y-yes,” he says finally; he feels like he has to say something. “I did.”

“I see,” the demon says, pursing its lips before getting straight down to business. “And what is your reasoning behind this?”

Somehow, the demon’s formal way of speaking just intimidates Frank even more. “Um—um—my mom,” he stutters out. “She died last week. Car crash. I want you to bring her back.”

“Ah, a classic demand,” the demon replies, its gaze never leaving Frank. “Your mother’s life in exchange for your soul, in…what? One year’s time?”

Frank gulps, the repercussions of his decision only just now sinking in. He’s known the standard deal for as long as he’s known about demons; his grandparents always told him stories of people selling their souls for any number of reasons. He just never thought that he’d end up being one of them. He has to do this, though; he’d be lying if he said he didn’t value his mother’s life over his own. This is important to him.

Just as Frank opens his mouth to agree, the demon adds, “Actually, kid, I’m feeling a bit generous today. How about I give you a choice?”

Frank narrows his eyes. He’s heard about this before, too—demons taking pity and altering the basic arrangement. “What kind of choice?”

The demon shrugs, an oddly human mannerism from an extremely inhuman creature. “In one year from now at exactly midnight, I will come back to collect a soul. You can choose for it to be your soul…or you can choose it to be the soul of another, someone innocent, someone who has never even heard of demons. You don’t even have to choose the person; you can just say you’d prefer to be spared in exchange for someone different, and I will handle the rest.”

Frank bites his lip, contemplating. It would be nice to be able to keep his life and his soul, but he doesn’t want to take that away from someone else, especially not someone who hasn’t even done anything wrong. Both decisions are equally appealing and appalling.

The demon raises an eyebrow. “Well, Frank Iero? What’s it going to be?”

—

It has been exactly one year since Frank’s decision. The demon, of course, kept its end of the bargain and brought his mother back, healthy and undeniably alive, with surprising tact, grace, and elegance. This means that tonight is the night that it returns, here to take a soul, whether it be Frank’s or another.

It doesn’t matter what Frank decided—he’s sure he wouldn’t be ready either way.

Frank’s boyfriend, Gerard, notices the difference in Frank’s mood at around nine o’clock in the evening while they’re watching TV together on the couch in their living room. Frank’s been distant all day, and he knows that he has, but he can’t seem to completely pull himself out of his little trance, even though he does try. Mostly, he tries for Gerard’s sake.

“What’s wrong?” Gerard asks softly, linking his fingers with Frank’s and shifting his body closer.

Frank shakes his head, squeezing Gerard’s hand. “Nothing important.”

“Are you sure?” Gerard presses. “You’re acting kind of weird.”

“I know,” Frank sighs, biting his lip out of habit. “It doesn’t matter, though. Promise.” He kisses Gerard on the cheek in an act of reassurance, but he knows that Gerard probably isn’t feeling very reassured. Frank doesn’t blame him. “I love you.”

Gerard closes his eyes, seeming to relax, if only a little bit. “I love you, too.”

About an hour later, the two head upstairs to start getting ready for bed, Frank still more quiet than usual. He tries to keep everything lighthearted, he really does, but with each minute that ticks by, the darkness that’s been hovering over him settles down even more. As he lies in bed with Gerard’s arms around him, Frank just stares at the digital clock on their nightstand, the numbers changing in a way that’s simultaneously too fast and too slow. He just wants to get this moment over with, but at the same time, he wishes time would stop completely.

At 11:52, Frank climbs out of bed—quietly enough so that he doesn’t wake Gerard—and heads into the bathroom, closing the door behind him and turning on the light. He almost can’t believe himself, almost can’t believe the decision that he made one year ago today. He’s not sure why he felt compelled to go into the bathroom in the first place; maybe it’s just that he needs to be alone when this happens. He has to be alone with his thoughts, with the knowledge that when the clock hits midnight, the demon will be taking a soul with it to hell.

Gerard doesn’t know about the demon, and he doesn’t need to.

There’s another clock hanging on their bathroom wall, and Frank’s gaze never leaves it, letting the steady sound of the second hand ticking burn itself into his brain. Tick. Tick. Tick. It’s almost maddening.

11:55.

Now Frank’s sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet, thinking about what he’s done. Part of him regrets it, but he knows that it was worth it to bring his mother back. She deserved a longer life, so Frank sold a soul to give it to her.

11:58.

His skin is crawling. He knows that somewhere out there, the demon is preparing itself.

11:59.

Frank just wants this whole thing to be done. He knows that after midnight, everything will be over, and he won’t have to worry about it anymore. He’ll still be haunted, of course, but at least the anticipation will be gone. He takes a deep breath as the second hand passes each number, never stopping or slowing, facing the number “12” head-on.

When the clock strikes midnight, Frank hears a bloodcurdling scream coming from his bedroom.

Immediately, he stands up in alarm, realization crashing over him as he turns the light off and rushes out of the bathroom. He chose to keep his soul in exchange for another, but he didn’t specify whose soul he wanted the demon to take. He’s been expecting the guilt of knowing that he sacrificed an innocent person’s soul, but what he didn’t expect was for the demon—out of all the souls in the world—to choose Gerard’s.

Sure enough, standing in their shared bedroom is that goddamn demon, though the human body that it has possessed is different this time. Gerard is writhing around in the bed in pain, though the demon isn’t even physically touching him. He coughs, blood spilling out of his mouth as he grips at his side, agony and confusion written all over his features. For a moment, Frank can do nothing but stare in horror as the demon’s powers begin to consume his boyfriend. Soon enough, they’ll kill him.

“Oh, hello, Frank,” the demon says pleasantly, snapping Frank back into reality. “I’ve come to collect the soul you’ve traded for your own.”

Frank runs over to Gerard, leaning over the bed and grabbing his hand. “Gerard!” he says, his heart pounding as Gerard stares up at him with wide, terror-filled eyes.

“What,” he gasps out, coughing more blood out onto the white sheets of their bed, “the hell…is going on?”

“I’m so sorry,” Frank whispers, shaking his head furiously and trying to hold back tears. “I never meant for this to happen to you. I’m sorry.”

Gerard moves his mouth in an attempt to respond, but he’s cut off by his own screams of pain. “Frank, I—”

Frank glances up at the demon, who watches in silence with a clear smirk on its human lips. “Please,” he says to it, desperation coursing through every vein in his body. “Fix this. Don’t do this to him.”

“You told me to collect a soul that was not yours,” the demon responds, its voice way too fucking calm for what’s happening right in front of it. “Gerard Way’s soul is not yours. I will be collecting a soul tonight, Frank Iero.”

Frank doesn’t even think before he blurts, “Take mine!”

Gerard stops screaming and crying for a moment, as if the demon has suddenly paused his pain. “What did you just say?” it says.

“Take mine,” Frank repeats, surer now. “Please. It’s what I was going to do in the first place.”

“Frank, no,” Gerard pleads, breathing heavily. “Whatever you’re going to do—don’t do it.”

Frank shakes his head, never breaking eye contact with the demon. “I’ll give you my soul instead if you’ll just let him go. Please. He doesn’t deserve this.”

The demon stares at Frank for a moment before nodding decisively. “You’re right. He doesn’t.” Then it unleashes its torture on Frank.

Frank doubles over, yelling out as a horrible ripping sensation slices its way through his entire body. He feels like he’s choking, and a few seconds later he starts coughing up blood just like Gerard was. Everything is blurry. Everything is fear. Everything is pain.

Gerard is screaming his name, but he can’t even focus on anything other than the feeling of his death, the feeling of his body being torn apart from the inside out, the feeling of his soul about to be dragged down to hell.

Is it worth it? he wonders briefly, his last few thoughts. The answer comes to him only a few seconds after the question: Yes. It’s all for his mother, and it’s all for Gerard.