Sequel: NightCurse ›
Welcome to the Black Parade
The Psychopath
“RAY KILLED A FAN KILLED A FAN!” Frank shouted as soon as he dashed to Gerard’s car, “He was wearing a MCR shirt with Cheyenne’s face on it! He also had a MCR necklace and a bracelet with her name printed all over it! He was creepy, and his teeth were yellow. But he’s DEAD!”
“How’d he kill him?” Gerard asked panicking Frank.
“He hit him as the man was jaywalking through the main street!”
“Then it’s not Ray’s fault,” replied Gerard, hiding his ocean of negative emotions.
“But he still killed him!”
“Where is Ray?” Gerard asked.
“He’s still there! He told me to come here to tell you since you always forget your cell-phone everywhere!”
“Let’s go,” Gerard said solemnly. Cheyenne was literally unable to get a single word in as they drove off to the scene. She was in shock, anyway.
They were soon at the scene. They parked in a Dunkin Doughnuts, because the roads were closed off to traffic. The road was soaked in deep-red, and a man lied in the middle of this red. Ambulances surrounded the scene, and Ray sat pretty far away from it on a white bench in someone’s yard. He watched as the paramedics tried to revive the man on-scene.
Cheyenne was creeped out by this guy. He smelled just like the guy who had raped her. You could small the tainted smell of cigarettes from about 250 feet away. The steel-strong vibe she got from him was crucifying. She felt her stomach become extremely uneasy. The man made her reminisce the entire night. It’d been too dark in the room for her to even see a single part of him that night. The man who Ray nearly killed had graying hair, dirty fingernails, urine-yellow teeth, moth-eaten clothes, and a trillion piercing. Cheyenne thought a few piercing on people looked amazing, but he had to have at least ten just on his ears.
The hideous man’s eyes began to peep. He then noticed Cheyenne with her eyes turning in the opposite directions and her noised scrunched up exorbitantly. She’d been breathing through her mouth the entire time.
“Cheyenne!” shouted the homely man, “I’m so glad you’re here!” He then got up and walked slowly to poor Cheyenne. She trembled with each step he took toward her.
“Err,” she said, “Hi!”
“My beautiful, beautiful girl!”
“Wha?”
“Come with me! We shall have happiness forever and ever!”
“N,n,n--”
The man then swiftly grabbed her by the wrist, shoved her into Ray’s car, and drove off going about 65 miles per hour on a 35 mph road. This had happened in a matter of seconds.
The smell of being contained within such a small space with him was absolutely atrocious. A few seconds after driving, Cheyenne barfed in the backseat. Police sirens Wee-Wooed in about three minutes of being on the road. The car just accelerated at the sound of them.
In about ten minutes, they completely lost the police. Twenty minutes after, they were at the man’s private home. The man parked about five minute’s walking distance of his house, stuck Cheyenne in a gigantic suitcase with wheels, and strolled her into his house. He then locked the door, so no one without a secret code could go in OR out of the house and released Cheyenne from the suitcase.
Cheyenne’s eyes wandered around a plethora of posters of HER. There had to be at least fifty posters per wall. There was a creepy bed with chains in the middle of the room she was released in.
“Now if you cooperate,” the queer man told Cheyenne, “We shouldn’t have at result to no dddrasstic meazzores!” He then began to strip right in front of her without warning. After that, he grabbed Cheyenne by the wrist, spraining it slightly, and pulled him toward her. With all of her might, she rooted her feet the best she could to the ground, but it was no use.
“I guess weeeeel have at ooz the metal!” he said as he accidentally spat into her face while talking.
He then began to strip HER and chained her to the bed in the middle of the room. He then began to do what he did the night before to her…
…She’d been there for five hours. It was 10 PM, and the sun had set hours ago. “Let’s go to my private strip of beach!” said the grotesque, hideous man, “If you do one thing, I’ll have at use tehh drasstick meazzores once agin!” He then unchained Cheyenne and brought out a steel whip from under the bed. He also ted a leash and collar around her neck like a dog in case she tried to run from him. He then pulled it and brought her outside to the beach. The man tied her to a bench in the middle of the strip of beach he owned. Everything around his five-acre-long strip of beach was carefully enclosed with fence wire except one side. That one, single side. He then pushed her down and began raping her. Cheyenne heard whispering in the distance and began to scream. The man gave her a light whip. Cheyenne’s arm soon began to bleed. The voices then stopped…
…It’d been thirty minutes since the despicable man had started on her. She then heard footsteps. They became louder and louder and came from the unfenced side. Soon, they were almost on top of her. The man was forced off of her by a much stronger man, and she was pulled up by a much shorter man.
“Don’t fuckin’ touch her, you fuckin’ scumbag!” a pleasantly familiar voice shouted at the grotesque man. Then, the much stronger man shot a punch into the man’s homely face. That’s when a third man arrived with a switchblade, the only weapon he had on him. The man who had thrown the punch had a furry ‘fro and a heart of love and courage. The man with the ‘fro proceeded to beat him up. The hideous man then kicked the ‘fro-man in the balls, snagged Cheyenne, and scurried swiftly away. He didn’t make it too far, however, when he suddenly felt a fierce stab through his back. Then, he dropped Cheyenne’s wrist. A few seconds after, a sharp stinging shot through his neck like a bullet only it was just a switchblade held by a man with lengthy, black hair. He then picked Cheyenne up and brought her to his car, where he sat her in the back seat and sat next to her.
She leaned on him a spurt tears out of her eyes faster than a sprinkler. Gerard hugged her tighter than he ever did before, and she didn’t care how much it hurt. Frank began to drive them to the hotel, and Cheyenne fell asleep while leaning on Gerard’s chest.
“How’d he kill him?” Gerard asked panicking Frank.
“He hit him as the man was jaywalking through the main street!”
“Then it’s not Ray’s fault,” replied Gerard, hiding his ocean of negative emotions.
“But he still killed him!”
“Where is Ray?” Gerard asked.
“He’s still there! He told me to come here to tell you since you always forget your cell-phone everywhere!”
“Let’s go,” Gerard said solemnly. Cheyenne was literally unable to get a single word in as they drove off to the scene. She was in shock, anyway.
They were soon at the scene. They parked in a Dunkin Doughnuts, because the roads were closed off to traffic. The road was soaked in deep-red, and a man lied in the middle of this red. Ambulances surrounded the scene, and Ray sat pretty far away from it on a white bench in someone’s yard. He watched as the paramedics tried to revive the man on-scene.
Cheyenne was creeped out by this guy. He smelled just like the guy who had raped her. You could small the tainted smell of cigarettes from about 250 feet away. The steel-strong vibe she got from him was crucifying. She felt her stomach become extremely uneasy. The man made her reminisce the entire night. It’d been too dark in the room for her to even see a single part of him that night. The man who Ray nearly killed had graying hair, dirty fingernails, urine-yellow teeth, moth-eaten clothes, and a trillion piercing. Cheyenne thought a few piercing on people looked amazing, but he had to have at least ten just on his ears.
The hideous man’s eyes began to peep. He then noticed Cheyenne with her eyes turning in the opposite directions and her noised scrunched up exorbitantly. She’d been breathing through her mouth the entire time.
“Cheyenne!” shouted the homely man, “I’m so glad you’re here!” He then got up and walked slowly to poor Cheyenne. She trembled with each step he took toward her.
“Err,” she said, “Hi!”
“My beautiful, beautiful girl!”
“Wha?”
“Come with me! We shall have happiness forever and ever!”
“N,n,n--”
The man then swiftly grabbed her by the wrist, shoved her into Ray’s car, and drove off going about 65 miles per hour on a 35 mph road. This had happened in a matter of seconds.
The smell of being contained within such a small space with him was absolutely atrocious. A few seconds after driving, Cheyenne barfed in the backseat. Police sirens Wee-Wooed in about three minutes of being on the road. The car just accelerated at the sound of them.
In about ten minutes, they completely lost the police. Twenty minutes after, they were at the man’s private home. The man parked about five minute’s walking distance of his house, stuck Cheyenne in a gigantic suitcase with wheels, and strolled her into his house. He then locked the door, so no one without a secret code could go in OR out of the house and released Cheyenne from the suitcase.
Cheyenne’s eyes wandered around a plethora of posters of HER. There had to be at least fifty posters per wall. There was a creepy bed with chains in the middle of the room she was released in.
“Now if you cooperate,” the queer man told Cheyenne, “We shouldn’t have at result to no dddrasstic meazzores!” He then began to strip right in front of her without warning. After that, he grabbed Cheyenne by the wrist, spraining it slightly, and pulled him toward her. With all of her might, she rooted her feet the best she could to the ground, but it was no use.
“I guess weeeeel have at ooz the metal!” he said as he accidentally spat into her face while talking.
He then began to strip HER and chained her to the bed in the middle of the room. He then began to do what he did the night before to her…
…She’d been there for five hours. It was 10 PM, and the sun had set hours ago. “Let’s go to my private strip of beach!” said the grotesque, hideous man, “If you do one thing, I’ll have at use tehh drasstick meazzores once agin!” He then unchained Cheyenne and brought out a steel whip from under the bed. He also ted a leash and collar around her neck like a dog in case she tried to run from him. He then pulled it and brought her outside to the beach. The man tied her to a bench in the middle of the strip of beach he owned. Everything around his five-acre-long strip of beach was carefully enclosed with fence wire except one side. That one, single side. He then pushed her down and began raping her. Cheyenne heard whispering in the distance and began to scream. The man gave her a light whip. Cheyenne’s arm soon began to bleed. The voices then stopped…
…It’d been thirty minutes since the despicable man had started on her. She then heard footsteps. They became louder and louder and came from the unfenced side. Soon, they were almost on top of her. The man was forced off of her by a much stronger man, and she was pulled up by a much shorter man.
“Don’t fuckin’ touch her, you fuckin’ scumbag!” a pleasantly familiar voice shouted at the grotesque man. Then, the much stronger man shot a punch into the man’s homely face. That’s when a third man arrived with a switchblade, the only weapon he had on him. The man who had thrown the punch had a furry ‘fro and a heart of love and courage. The man with the ‘fro proceeded to beat him up. The hideous man then kicked the ‘fro-man in the balls, snagged Cheyenne, and scurried swiftly away. He didn’t make it too far, however, when he suddenly felt a fierce stab through his back. Then, he dropped Cheyenne’s wrist. A few seconds after, a sharp stinging shot through his neck like a bullet only it was just a switchblade held by a man with lengthy, black hair. He then picked Cheyenne up and brought her to his car, where he sat her in the back seat and sat next to her.
She leaned on him a spurt tears out of her eyes faster than a sprinkler. Gerard hugged her tighter than he ever did before, and she didn’t care how much it hurt. Frank began to drive them to the hotel, and Cheyenne fell asleep while leaning on Gerard’s chest.
♠ ♠ ♠
There is NO Chapter 25, yet.