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This is What We Call a Tragedy	By : ShotgunSheri Category: My Chemical Romance > General Views: 673 -:- 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
- 1-This is What We Call a Tragedy
- 2-Ch 2
- 3-Ch 3
- 4-Ch 4
- 5-Ch 5
- 6-Ch 6
- 7-Ch 7
- 8-Ch 8
- 9-Ch 9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 10
- 11
- 12
A few hours later, the door of the mausoleum was letting light in through the cracks around it. Frank had fallen asleep, still holding me. I sat up a little, which cause his eyes to shoot open. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “I was just sitting up.”

He nodded, realizing I was safe before yawning slightly and looking down at me, “What’s up?”

“The sun is out...” I whispered. “If we leave now, we could make it out... Think about it... I can guarantee they won’t be expecting me to run anywhere in my condition.”

Frank looked at me, studying my expression. “Can you walk?” he asked.

“To get away from them? I can do anything Frank,” I said softly.
He nodded as if contemplating it for a moment before turning to me, “Alright...”

I stood up, my legs shaking at first, my body was physically exhausted from the wounds I’d endured over the last few days. Frank jumped to his feet and steadied me, “I’m okay,” I promised. He gave a nod and took my head as we quietly made our way up the staircase that led to the door. It reminded me of a story I’d once heard, of a girl escaping Hades. All she had to do was continue up the stairs, without looking back... But she looked by. “Don’t look back,” I whispered to myself, not meaning to say it out loud. Frank rose a brow at me, but we continued on. As we got to the top of the stairs, we could see a metal chain holding the door shut, a master lock securing it. Frank shot me a hopeless look, but I kept walking to it. I just had a... feeling.

I smiled, wanting to scream when my hand touched the chain. The lock wasn’t actually locked. It appeared to be, but the handle wasn’t pushed in far enough to lock. I undid it as quickly as possible, before pushing the door open. Hearing something behind me, I pushed Frank out of the entrance before heading for it myself.

Someone grabbed my ankle and I screamed.

“I don’t fucking think so,” Gerard growled, pulling me toward him.

Frank grabbed my waist and kicked Gerard in the stomach with all his might, the shock and quickness of the blow sent Gerard toppling down the stairs as Frank and I fell out into the sunlight.

Frank and I scrambled to our feet, slamming the door of the tomb behind us. Frank smirked, holding the chain and lock in his hand. “This should buy us some extra time,” he said, securing the door shut with the lock. “Let’s get out of here...”

I nodded, holding my side again. “Fuck, it really hurts,” I whimpered.

Frank stood in front of me and lifted my, well technically his, shirt to expose my midriff. My entire stomach was a deep purple. Frank cringed, “You need emergency help...”

“If we go to the hospital, they’ll find us,” I said in a voice that trembled. “We’ll be dead...”

“Do you realize that if you don’t go, you could die?” he asked, looking concerned.

“Been there, done that,” I said flatly. “Look, I promise I’ll be okay, it just hurts... You know I’d never break a promise to you, you’re my best friend.”

He sighed, clearing giving up, “Fine... Let’s find someone to help us...”

We left the cemetery and made our way for Frank’s house. A flicker of pain passed behind his eyes as he looked at the front of the house. “We can’t stay here,” he said softly, “they’ll look here first...”

I nodded before coming up behind him and wrapping my arms around him. I rested my chin on his shoulder, “I’m sorry Frank... I’m sorry...”

He turned to me, “It’s not your fault, okay?”

I nodded slightly as he took my hand and led me into the house. I cringed as I stared at the wall next to the stairs, there was a small pool of my blood on the carpet. Frank looked from me to the stain with realization, his expressing becoming enraged for a moment. He then led me up the stairs to his room, where he grabbed his laptop, wallet and car keys before we headed back outside. “Where are we going to go?” I asked softly.

“To a hotel in New York, about an hour away... I figure the further we are, the harder we are to find. It’s 9am now, we should get there at about 10,” he said as we hopped into his car.

We got to a hotel at about 10:15 and Frank had to shell out $450 for a room, for one night. He muttered about the prices before taking my hand as we made our way to the room.

On the bright side, the room had to be the nicest one in the hotel. It was huge with a large bed, an all inclusive mini-bar, a kitchen and a living room. Sure, these were all things that would be more useful in a vacation type situation, but it still made me feel better.

I drank four shots of straight vodka out of the bar and made a disgusted face, shaking my head one from the taste. I hate the taste of vodka... but right now, with my injuries, I could deal with it. Frank didn’t even discourage me. In fact, he took two shots himself to numb his bruises.

He then set up his laptop keeping it on the coffee table in the living room. I sat next to him on the comfortable couch. He searched for what seemed like ages before coming upon a webpage that seemed pretty damned legit.

This girl even mentioned the Elizabeth Bathory myth, talking about Gerard outright. Apparently, he’d crossed her path a few times. Frank jotted down the number of the foursome of hunters: Jess and Rebecca ‘Becks’ Austin (apparently the two were sisters; Jess being 16 and Becks being 19, but apparently the best hunters around), Steve Sanders (21) and Nick Merete (18).

He called them up and went into the other room to talk, emerging about a half hour later with a smile. “They’ll be here in a few hours... Two of them are going to accompany us to the hospital, while the other two start the stake out for the guys...”

“I don’t want to go to the hospital,” I whined.

“You’re going,” Frank said sternly, kissing my forehead.

I sighed, almost contently, “Fine...”

“Until then, we can get some sleep,” he said softly, before carrying me to the bed. He laid me under the covers before cuddling up next to me. “I’ll never let them hurt you... not tonight,” he whispered.
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This is What We Call a Tragedy