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Can You Stake My Heart
By : poe
Category: My Chemical Romance > General
Views: 2756 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0Disclaimer: 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
- Okay, so funny story......i kind of forgot about this part of my fic. i wrote it, but i didn't really like it, but i realized that without it, things just didn't really make sense in regards to the whole gerard bloodlust thing.....so yeah. here it is. sorry about any confusion that may have occured......i'm only one girl here!!!! ;)
I do not know, own or have any affiliation with anyone in mcr.
"Mother?" he called softly into the dimly lit room. He didn't expect an answer, but he still hoped for one. He tread quietly accross the light carpet to the middle of the room. He knew what was waiting for him, even before he saw it. Her still form lying on the floor next to the bed. Sometimes it was the floor. Sometimes it was the couch. Sometimes it was the bed. But she was always so still. Tears in his eyes, and the vague thought that this couldn't really be happening, he slowly approached her, his steps heavy and leaden in his dazed stupor. It was like watching the scene unfold on a movie screen. He saw his hand reach out and touch the body on the floor, finding it warm, but lifeless. He saw a large stain on the carpet coming from underneath that body. He saw his hand turn the body over to be greeted by glassy eyes, pale skin, and two puncture wounds on the neck, the source of the dark marks on the carpet. His mother had been bitten.
He tried to back away, but found his feet planted firmly in place. His face felt hot, he couldn't breathe, his nose was stuffed up from tears, and his mouth gaped, gasping for air. He couldn't breathe... No.... He saw the bump of her belly move slightly. The baby....He saw his hand moving towards her stomach, and with an action so vile he felt the bile in his stomach burning his throat as it tried to make its way out, he looked down to find himself holding a tiny baby. A small, screaming, blood-covered baby. He cried harder, his sobs mingling with the newborn's, knowing that it would grow up alone, knowing the life this child would lead.He stroked its face tenderly, trying to soothe its cries. The baby grabbed onto his finger pulling it into its mouth, soothing his wails. He let him, it was a boy, suck on it for a while, as he carried the child away from the gruesome picture to another area of the house.
And then, the baby bit him. "Ow! You little-" He stopped dead. He looked down at the baby gurgling contentedly. Newborns don't have teeth. He tried to wipe some of the blood off of it, holding the baby up against the light. He pulled back its upper lip to reveal two sharp canines portruding from its gums. "No...." He inspected the baby more closely, holding it away from him. Its eyes suddenly flew open, revealing not blue irises, like most newborns, but blood red. It's mouth gaping, tiny fanged teeth bared, it made a lunge for his throat....
Gerard woke up, panting for breath. He threw the sheets off of himself, wiping a hand accross his sweat-covered face. Fucking dream... He got out of bed, walking towards the kitchen for a glass of water. He paused at the mirror in the hallway, knowing what he'd see, but just wanting to check. Sighing, he continued on to the kitchen, grabbing a glass, filling it with cold water, and taking a long drink. It wasn't nearly as satisfying as he wanted it to be, and did nothing to quench his raging thirst. He dragged his feet back to bed, climbing in and pulling the covers over himself. He didn't want to go back to sleep.
He could handle the dreams. He heard that everyone got them, at least everyone like him got them, so he didn't really have a choice. He had to handle the dreams. But handling them, and getting used to them, well, those were two very different things.
Just because he dreamed almost the same thing every night, didn't mean that he liked it. Worse though, was the thought of what those dreams meant. He hadn't had them for a long time. He ran a hand through his unr uly shoulder-length black hair, sweat forming again on his face at the thought.
Bad things were going to happen. - You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
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