A Tragic Affair
folder
My Chemical Romance › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
12
Views:
1,609
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
My Chemical Romance › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
12
Views:
1,609
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
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.
A Confrontation At The Grave
And 20 minutes later we were headed down the hill to the cemetery. I'd thrown on a black blazer, black fishnet stockings and black combat boots. Stokes and Moth were singing 'Mama' while I picked through the dark, noticing it was getting a little chilly. The boys were teasing me and calling me Black Mariah because of my clothes, but they knew I didn't own anything that was in bright colors because they hurt my eyes. "I think you two listen to too much MCR, and by the way last time I checked I'm not a horse drawn hearse."
"We know, and there's no such thing as too much My Chem." Stokes declared as he took a drink out of the bottle we'd brought with us. "You need to lighten up." Moth added. I was about to make a scathing comment back, but I stopped and thought about it. I had been a pill lately, but it was because I was so tired. I hadn't been sleeping much due to nightmares that became elusive when I tried to remember them upon waking. But I shouldn't have been taking it out on my friends. Finally I said, "You're right, sorry sweetheart." Stokes and Moth both put their arms around my shoulders, all of us grinning. As we marched into the cemetery we sang 'Mama' together, loudly. I wondered if we were waking the dead.
When we reached the Wilson tomb we decided to wait there. We passed around the bottle and smoked, giggling and making jokes. At one point Stokes said, "Oh, did we tell you? we think we might have seen Mikey down at Pim's Grocery today." I looked at Moth, eyebrow raised. "It's true." He said, non chalant. "Did you check to see if it was him?" Stokes shook his head. "Nope, he left too fast." "I doubt it was him boys, unless he was really fucking lost." They giggled and each took another swig.
But we all froze when we heard music. It was low and mournful, like a dirge. Moth suddenly grabbed my arm and Stokes' wrist and we scrambled behind the tomb, peering around the side. The music was getting louder, as though it were coming closer. Then they came in sight. I felt Moth tremble next to me as we watched about 100 people, all marching through the cemetery. So the Black Parade was real, and the worst was yet to come.
We gaped as they headed to Batt's grave, and held our breath as the leader stepped out. "It's Gerard..." Stokes whispered. And it was, but he looked different. Sickly pale and gaunt, like he hadn't eaten or slept in months. And his hair was black again, but it was long and scraggly looking. He was murmuring something but we couldn't hear what. Stokes, before we could stop him, snuck away to hide behind another crypt. He wasn't more than two or three feet from Gerard. I worried my lip between my teeth, then jumped when Gerard's voice rose.
"Harold Batt, thee who are the condemned,
Rise and join us in our dark crusade!
We have claimed your soul my new friend,
You are now part of the Black Parade!"
He screamed the last, and the rest of the procession cheered, they were clapping like mad. Slowly, a glowing figure rose out of the grave. It was Batt, but he looked much younger and wore only a funeral shroud. The rest of the Parade enveloped him, dressing him in blacks and grays and painting his face in the same hues. They started to leave, but Gerard stayed behind. He was staring in our direction and I shrank behind the the tomb, pulling Moth with me. That's when we heard it.
"HAULT!" We froze, our ears straining. Then we heard Gerard say, "We have a spy." We looked again just in time to see several Parade marchers lunge at Stokes, seizing him. Moth struggled against my grip, then knocked me to the ground and broke free as Gerard took hold of Stokes. He ran towards them, screaming, "Stay away from my cousin!"
I picked myself up off the ground and made to go after them, but then arms like snakes wrapped around my waist, pulling me back. I tried to scream but a hand clamped hard over my mouth. "It's too late," a voice, male, hissed. "Don't throw yourself into the mix, I'll need your help to save them." That didn't stop me from struggling though, especially as I could only watch as these demented marchers clapped my two best friends in irons. They were dragged away, and as I started to cry I was released. I turned, ready to kill whoever had kept me from saving them, but I stopped when I saw his face. "Mikey?"
"We know, and there's no such thing as too much My Chem." Stokes declared as he took a drink out of the bottle we'd brought with us. "You need to lighten up." Moth added. I was about to make a scathing comment back, but I stopped and thought about it. I had been a pill lately, but it was because I was so tired. I hadn't been sleeping much due to nightmares that became elusive when I tried to remember them upon waking. But I shouldn't have been taking it out on my friends. Finally I said, "You're right, sorry sweetheart." Stokes and Moth both put their arms around my shoulders, all of us grinning. As we marched into the cemetery we sang 'Mama' together, loudly. I wondered if we were waking the dead.
When we reached the Wilson tomb we decided to wait there. We passed around the bottle and smoked, giggling and making jokes. At one point Stokes said, "Oh, did we tell you? we think we might have seen Mikey down at Pim's Grocery today." I looked at Moth, eyebrow raised. "It's true." He said, non chalant. "Did you check to see if it was him?" Stokes shook his head. "Nope, he left too fast." "I doubt it was him boys, unless he was really fucking lost." They giggled and each took another swig.
But we all froze when we heard music. It was low and mournful, like a dirge. Moth suddenly grabbed my arm and Stokes' wrist and we scrambled behind the tomb, peering around the side. The music was getting louder, as though it were coming closer. Then they came in sight. I felt Moth tremble next to me as we watched about 100 people, all marching through the cemetery. So the Black Parade was real, and the worst was yet to come.
We gaped as they headed to Batt's grave, and held our breath as the leader stepped out. "It's Gerard..." Stokes whispered. And it was, but he looked different. Sickly pale and gaunt, like he hadn't eaten or slept in months. And his hair was black again, but it was long and scraggly looking. He was murmuring something but we couldn't hear what. Stokes, before we could stop him, snuck away to hide behind another crypt. He wasn't more than two or three feet from Gerard. I worried my lip between my teeth, then jumped when Gerard's voice rose.
"Harold Batt, thee who are the condemned,
Rise and join us in our dark crusade!
We have claimed your soul my new friend,
You are now part of the Black Parade!"
He screamed the last, and the rest of the procession cheered, they were clapping like mad. Slowly, a glowing figure rose out of the grave. It was Batt, but he looked much younger and wore only a funeral shroud. The rest of the Parade enveloped him, dressing him in blacks and grays and painting his face in the same hues. They started to leave, but Gerard stayed behind. He was staring in our direction and I shrank behind the the tomb, pulling Moth with me. That's when we heard it.
"HAULT!" We froze, our ears straining. Then we heard Gerard say, "We have a spy." We looked again just in time to see several Parade marchers lunge at Stokes, seizing him. Moth struggled against my grip, then knocked me to the ground and broke free as Gerard took hold of Stokes. He ran towards them, screaming, "Stay away from my cousin!"
I picked myself up off the ground and made to go after them, but then arms like snakes wrapped around my waist, pulling me back. I tried to scream but a hand clamped hard over my mouth. "It's too late," a voice, male, hissed. "Don't throw yourself into the mix, I'll need your help to save them." That didn't stop me from struggling though, especially as I could only watch as these demented marchers clapped my two best friends in irons. They were dragged away, and as I started to cry I was released. I turned, ready to kill whoever had kept me from saving them, but I stopped when I saw his face. "Mikey?"