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Devil May Cry	By : TsukiNoCurse Category: My Chemical Romance > General Views: 889 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of My Chemical Romance. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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AN: I don’t own Plata Quemada, it only inspired me. I don’t own Frank Iero, Gerard Way, or any of the other My Chemical romance members.
I don’t own the lyrics! But, hEY! Gerard does :D!

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*~^I^I^~*
“We’re damned after all.
Through fortune and flame we fall.
And if you can stay then I'll show you the way
To return from the ashes you call.

We all carry on
when our brothers in arms are gone
So raise your glass high for tomorrow we die
And return from the ashes you call…”

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“Introduction”

Two Years Ago…

Perhaps if people could actually recall a memory of him, they would always remember that pleased smile, and peaceful expression in his face. Perhaps, they could never forget the way he laughed, or how he always smiled. Even his way of clothing was extravagant; people may recognize him with that white t-shirt and the red tie. Half of his head was shaved and the other half had long black hair. He was always painting his eyes, sometimes with a light shade of pink in the white skin under his them, or sometimes he would put big crosses across them.
Apart from that people tended to notice him because he always was curious about people’s lives, as well as he was always trying to find a way into people’s hearts.

But something people would never forget, but as well they wont be able to tell, was the pleasure that he got from killing. As well as the cheerful smile he had on his face while he did so.

Because he was always looking for something more, he really didn’t got to attached onto people. So he was close to no one, who may know his name and turn it in into the police.
He was noticeable as well, because of the so many failed attempts of the police to capture him. If at least they had a face they may recognize to capture! Even if he was unique in his own way, the little it was known about him where merely speculations or little testimonials they got from people before they died.

Bella Muerte, that’s how people liked to call him, since no one knew his real name.

It was the year of 1955, and in those dangerous times, people liked to think Bella Muerte was only another urban legend.

New Jersey State was, in those times s a place where no one would like to live, I can assure you that.

Because of the constant building of weapons in the past, for the World Wars, or even the Cold war, police have had barely time to organize and fight against the inner country criminals. And when those wars where over, no one could find a way to stop criminals, that had allied all together and made up the economy of the state.

Their economy during the Roaring Twenties had depended in those fuckers that had spent almost everything whether it was on jazz music, alcohol or prostitutes.

How ever, the Great Depression arrived. Little by little crime started to gain territory in New Jersey once again, fighting for what they said it was theirs: the whole state.

And that’s how people like Bella Muerte appeared. They where paid to fight and robber money. They where paid to spill the blood, of innocents and criminals alike.

And that is what made people’s life so damn difficult, so difficult that, if you where to find yourself in trouble, instead of screaming for help, you were taught to accept your fate and stood in silence to take whatever may happen to you. You may find yourself dead because of the need of food, or money. Living each day as if it was the last was the only rule. And that’s what people did: They lived drunk, stoned, or trying to move away from that place, which was impossible, since in the border line of New Jersey with all the states nearby, was the most dangerous part of the whole state. Only if you were suicidal, you will try to leave.

That’s how life worked.

*~*~
That day Frank was polishing Pansy.
Pansy was a beautiful Uzi submachine gun that made Frank proud of himself, since he had to robber it from the Israel defense police, when they came to deliver some weapons.
Pansy had killed so many people, and she seemed to enjoy her life quiet a lot. Killing and hanging in his back

He was staring around the place, while he polished Pansy once, twice; he lost count after like fifteen or so.
He was smoking, as he always did.
He probably smokes two full boxes or three a day.

He liked to drink a little too much, but he only spent himself when he was alone, because he couldn’t trust anyone.
He had established himself in that city a little ago, sleeping on a motel that was half destroyed, and almost every night sacked, until he arrived of course.

And today, he was looking for sex.

And that’s what he would certainly find in the public baths he had just reached.

As he walked by, with Pansy still hanging in his back, he found a lad, about his age, staring at the nothing.
Perhaps he was stunned.

His eyes where looking far away.

His hair covered slightly his face, but even under it he could see the amazing pair of eyes brown eyes, staring at the nothing, and his skin was so damn white!

Frank thought that the lad might disappear in any moment. His lips where slightly red, in contrast whit his pale skin.

God, he was gorgeous.

And he was looking for a place for sleep; he would pay whit the only thing he had right now: His body.

That night the boy slept with him.

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And in little, both of them started to live together.
And Frank learned many things from that lad: he learned that both did the same for living; that both were good at managing weapons, and dirty business, they became partners in crime.
Gerard was a well known murder and expert in bank robbery and transport.
He was known as The Teenager.

It was a fact in those times, that if you wanted them to work with you, either both of them worked, or none of them did it.

Both of them had built and strong friendship, in which both of them relayed. They trust each other so much, that sometimes they would find a sex partner in the other, or even a peaceful night in the arms of the other.

Once they, by silent agreement, became lovers, the earned the nickname of the Demolition Lovers.

Bella Muerte and The Teenager.

Frank Iero and Gerard Way.

That’s how our story is supposed to start, but let me tell you something that they both learned with the time:
Every time there is a meeting, there must always be a good bye…

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AN: One shoot? O,o! Please tell me what you think!! Reviews are welcome, and if you find any grammar error or something, please tell me so I can fix it :D
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Devil May Cry