A Bullet Theory {I Tried}

[decay;;]

Chapter One

"State your name for the record."
I sat in silence, staring with the slightest sensation of a smug smile at the darkened figure in front of me. The heat from the low lamp bore down on my dark hair, trying to break my concentration with it's overpowering warmth. I ignored it, my palms sweating as I numbed my mind in the way I had become so accustomed to, seeing what would happen.

A fist slammed onto the hardwood of the desk. I barely winced.
"State your name for the record." the voice repeated. I pondered whether to give in to the orders. I choose otherwise and continued to stay still, averting my eyes to explore the black depths of the small room I was enclosed in. The only source of natural light sending it's fluorescent glow from the outside streetlights was filtering in from a small grate on the wall to my right, as though representing my chances of escape, of redemption. Opposite, to my left, an artificial wall stood, beyond it a team of detectives, police officers and lawyers. Maybe a few victims, a few relatives. I could feel their eyes on me, looking through the glass I couldn't see with my own experienced eyes. Eyes that had seen so much... if only they knew.

They thought they knew pain? Grief? Horror?
If only they knew at all.
An exasperated sigh tore my attention away from my brooding. Brooding? I'd never had time to brood on the things I had done, never had a chance to think things through. But things had never been spontaneous either. They'd always been... it's too hard to comprehend. This time, I was ready for the question. I could feel it coming back again. I could feel it in the anger radiating from the person before me, shrouded in darkness. I could feel it in every inch of my soul.

This was my chance, at last. My chance to be forgiven for my sins. My chance to tell my story. Maybe even rewrite it. If I lived to tell it at all.
"State your name for th-"
"Gerard Arthur Way."

[ricegrains&rosesxo.]

OHHHHH.
I was so expecting you to say "Chadwick Merryweather Hardy... the Third" at the end of that.
But no,
It's Gerard as per usual.
And this time,
He's been caught by the cops for something...
... something he's gunna admit to us, possibly?
Like now?
In the next update?
'Cuz you had better update this.
Like now.

Xoxoxo *SxPxF*

[decay;;]

Chapter Two

The light above was swung forcefully around to shine into my eyes. I squinted against the harsh brightness, my skin tearing as I tried to see, desperate to set eyes on my captor. Know your enemies. It was a phrase over-used by my grandmother, and one I had never truly understood until now.
"Where were you on the 16th July 2005, Way?"
I waved a hand, desperately trying to signal for the lamp to be moved. He took no heed, pressing me further for answers.
"Where were you?" he repeated, his voice echoing round the empty room, bare of any furniture other than the table, the lamp, and the hard wooden chair I was pressed into.

I kept my silence, managing to prise my eyes open exceedingly slowly, the light as excruciatingly painful as a thousand blades to the pupils. But I was used to pain, it was a way of life, and therefore I merely dipped my head slightly to avoid the questioning glare the lamp gave me. The light was withdrawn moments later.

"Gerard Way, do you confess to the murder of Michael James Way?"
Silence. If I didn't even think about it, maybe I could just as easily forget.
"Do you confess to the murder of Frank Antony Lero?"
"Iero." I spat.
"Is that a confession?"
"No, it's a correction."

"What about the murder of Yasmin Leanne Bell? Rebecca Nildoh... Matthew Pellisser... Robert Edward McCracken..."
I allowed the words to flow off his tongue like burning lava splashing into my blood and creating an explosion of pain with each name as I stayed absorbed in my silence.

The number of people I killed?
The question was how many I didn't.[/font][/color]

[ricegrains&rosesxo.]

WHATHEFUCKNO.
Not Mikey, Frankie, Bertiee, Matieee, Meeee?
Why Allie??
Why??
UPDATEEE.
I gotta go.

Xoxoxo* SxPxF*

PS: Argh, middle names. *burns*

[decay;;]

Chapter Three

Solitude. Only the faint sounds of echoing footsteps, the quiet murmuring of the traffic outside, and my own stammering heartbeat kept my mind away from dwelling on the past and focused on my next move. A plan. An escape.
Of course, it had been inevitable that I would be caught eventually. You can only get so far before people starting putting two and two together and jumped to far-fetched conclusions. It was all far more complex than just... killings. It was an art, it was surreal, it had a million and one reasons - not one of them that they, the faceless representatives of the law, would understand.

A loud clang of metal stole me from my thoughts as a key slid into the lock of the door. I held my breath, jumping silently from the floor and moving to the bed with the stealth I had learnt over the years. I barely had time to compose my expression into what I hoped was disinterest before light flooded into the room and a figure stood aside to let another walk towards me. It froze at my side.
"Gerard?" The man said, his voice low and husky. I looked slowly up into his face. It was entirely in darkness except for his glinting eyes, a shiver ripping through my spine. I returned my gaze to the bed, folding my arms carefully, casually.
"I need you to come with me."

"More questions?" I asked darkly. He shook his head, offering me a large, rounded hand.
"Just a little chat."
I sighed, understanding the difficult situation I could find myself in if I refused, and took his hand. A wave of vulnerability washed over me as he gripped my wrist, my long thin fingers hanging weakly as I was led out of my cell and down another corridor I hadn't seen before. A noise behind us indicated the guard closing the door.

"I didn't kill them." I whispered as we walked. He didn't even turn to face me, just kept striding, pulling me with him.
"Excuses," he replied, "but we can solve all this later."
"Solve? It takes a lot more to solve this."
"You're a puzzle, Gerard Way. It just takes a little rearranging. And I'm going to be doing it."
"Bend the pieces 'til they break," I spat, "there's no way you'll get me figured out."

He laughed hoarsely.
"Don't be so sure of that, murderer."

[ricegrains&rosesxo.]

Please no torture =]]
'Cuz I suddenly thought: ELECTRIC CHAIR.
=[

And Gee's right!
There IS an art buried in murder... somewhere.

Updateeeee yeah?
=]]

Xoxoxo *SxPxF*

[xxcemetarydrivexx]

ee !!!
Nice !!
NOOO YAZZ IS DEAD !?!?!? ...again ? :S
And mikey !?!?!? NOOO !! What about frank ?!?!?
and why isn't bob and ray dead i want them dead....
lol !!
i thought they were all friends :S
Oh Well........................
Good story so far !!
Amy !!

[decay;;]

Chapter Four

He left the room quickly, nodding to the guard on his departure. The temperature of the room dropped several degrees as I stared at the piece of paper before me, my blood suddenly cold. The guard watched me, his arms folded, silent.

"You're going to write me a story," the man had instructed me. I'd pushed the paper across the table away from me, laying the ink pen carefully upon it.
"I was never much of a poet," I'd told him, but the paper had been shoved back in front of me, the pen stuffed roughly into my hand.
"Write everything," he'd hissed, venom spilling from his throat, "don't miss a detail. It could just save your life."
"What's to be saved?"

What was to be saved, indeed. I was a sinner. I always had been, from the crib to the eleven-story parking lot where the game had ended with a flick of the finger and the wailing of a thousand fallen angels. That wailing... it had been so haunting, for lack of a better word... and here I was, stuck in purgatory. A living hell. This was my test. And I had to pass it. For the love of God, if he existed anymore at all, I had to pass.
And they all just thought I was a serial killer.
If only they knew.

I looked at the pen in my hand, it's silver tinge reminiscent of a knife, poised and ready to carve out my imperfections. I pressed it upon the page, and began to write.

3rd July, 2005.[/font][/color]

[ricegrains&rosesxo.]

Sister I'm not much a poet but a criminal?
Eehee.
Shotgun sinners... =]
Why does the 11 story parking lot sound familiar?
My brains currently being overwritten with... FRENCH. </3

A thousand fallen angles?
Like the corpses of a thousand evil men?
Is that what Mikey, Frank, Matt, Bert, Hodlin and myself are now?
UPDATEEE.

Xoxoxo *SxPxF*

[decay;;]

at the center of the earth in a parking lot of the 7-11 where i was taught.
is that why? :]
unintentional, just thought it might look kinda cool, and i love that song anyway.
i'll update in a sec :]
xoxo

[ricegrains&rosesxo.]

haha probably.
Coool.
Y'know, in the last four chapters you've used the phrase "if only they knew" three times.
Just thought it was interesting =]

Xoxo

[decay;;]

Chapter Five

3rd July, 2005.[/color]
I killed her.

With a shrug, I pushed the paper away from me once more. The guard read it briefly, his dark eyes scanning the red ink, and pushed it back towards me in silence. I sighed, knowing I would have to dig deeper into every painful memory, and continued to write.

Her name was Yasmin. At least, that's what they had called her, when we first set eyes upon eachother. Stay away from her, they had said. They'd told me a decent kid like me shouldn't mess with girls like her. But the sense of danger and mistrust mystified me, and before I'd known it, I was following; following the rabbit into the rabbit hole, into a wonderland of death, torment and regret. And above all, fear. And soon enough, I'd become addicted.

It had been a cool afternoon, the breeze dancing around the skyscrapers as I walked the streets of New York City, my shoulder-length black hair ruffling against the collar of my jacket. Around me, the people took no notice, instead wrapped up in their own affairs. The thing that had drawn me to NY, other than the arts, was the people. Not because I was social; far from it. Rather, I prefered to watch them, an outsider looking in on his family celebrating Christmas without him. Sometimes, I would look at each person in their crisp suits and briefcases, or stiletto heels and lipstick, and wonder what their lives were like. With some of the commuters, it was easy to read their emotions. With others, it was harder.

And that's how I met her.
The door chimed as I walked in, the sun beating on my back through the crystal glass as I walked up to the counter, a few steps behind the man in front, his nose upturned as he glanced over his shoulder at me. My green eyes slowly travelled up to the menu suspended above the customers like some kind of luminous angel, my attention attracted to a mocha latte. I placed my order, handed over a five dollar bill, and waited. Once again, old habits kicked in, and I casually scanned the room. Our eyes met, and I turned away quickly, my blood suddenly warm with embarassment.

A few moments passed, and she was standing right next to me, the cup in her hand half-empty of it's liquid as she held out the other. He black hair fell straight just past her shoulders, her brown eyes fixed on me as she smiled weakly, reading me every move. I shook her outstretched hand.
"Gerard Way," I smiled. She nodded, "Alison. You from around here?"
"New Jersey," I replied, "but I go to art school here."
"SVA?"
I nodded, taking a deep drink from my latte. She looked away, her eyes fixed on something I couldn't quite see. I cleared my throat.

"So erm, what brings you here?"
"Milkshakes," she answered, facing me once more and motioning towards her cup, "the vanilla ones are awesome."
"Yeah, I'm more of a coffee person myself." I laughed.
"I know people like that," she smiled, and her eyes slid sideways quickly to where she had been looking before, "want to join me?"
I nodded, and she led me to a table in the corner.[/font][/color]

[decay;;]

Chapter Six

[/color]
I flicked a wisp of raven hair out of my eye as I raised my polystyrene cup to my lips again. I took a few more sips of my coffee and flicked another page of the newspaper. Alison watched me, reading it upside down from the opposite end of the tiny table we were seated at.

"So what do you think of these murders?" I asked, motioning to the blazing headline at the top of the broad page.

'BODY FOUND IN FLATS' - another victim claimed by tri-city serial killer'

She coughed anxiously, "It's scary."
"Scary?"
"Yeah," she insisted, "I mean, a killer, that's sorta creepy."
"Mmm..." I agreed, continuing to read the lengthy article. A guy in his early twenties, found hanging in the foyer of an abandoned apartment. It said that the police had found suspicious injuries upon discovery, but couldn't reveal them to the general public.
"Suspicious injuries," I smiled to myself, "blatantly a vampire."
Alison coughed lightly again, "Yeah... anyway, I'd better get going, I need to visit a friend."

"Do you have to? I was enjoying your company." I said, and it was true. With all my friends back in Jersey, I didn't socialise very much with the other art students.
"It's kind of important," she apologised, "I'll see you some other time."
"Soon," I warned, drinking some more of my coffee. She nodded, a smile playing on her lips.
"Very soon." And with that, she was gone. I turned the page in my paper, and absorbed myself back into the text.

The door was slammed open again, sending a powerful draft into the room. I didn't move, but raised my eyes from the page, coming face to face with the man that had sentenced me to this troubling task.
"How are things going?" He asked, unable to keep the sneering ridicule out of his husky voice.
"I'm starting at the very beginning," I told him, "if you're anxious to hear the macabre, you'll have to wait." I added. He raised an eyebrow.
"A confession?"
"A warning."
He nodded, a sly smile still fixed on his half-shadowed face, "Well, take as long as you need. There's plenty of time."
I looked back at the page, my voice dripping with venom, "That's what you think."[/font][/i]

[ricegrains&rosesxo.]

OOOO.
Am I this coffee addict thing you know then?
Y'know, the one that isn't Gee...
EURGH FULL NAMES EURGH.
Am I the friend too? =]

Miss me much?
Don't worry, I'll make up for lost time.

MOREEEEE.
I wanna know why I'm dangerous, mysterious, so on and so forth.
Oh and why I'm dead =D

Xoxo *SxPxF*

[decay;;]

Chapter Seven

6th July, 2005[/color]
I saw a lot of her for the next few days. Our friendship seemed to know no boundaries; every day without fail I would receive a call, or a text, inviting me to some place that was only ours. It felt nice to finally have found a friend outside of home. Although, I had quickly learnt I was not her only friend, and the details of her companion were very vague. She would never go into detail about them, even though I would tell her story upon story of the things I had done with my friends and brother back in Jersey. But it didn't matter. I had her, and she had me, and the days passed by a little brighter with company.

"Gerard," she smiled, "you in there?"
I felt a broad grin crack upon my face and shook my head, "Yeah, sorry, got all nostalgic."
"Nostalgic about what?"
"When we first met," I smiled, "seems like a long time ago."
"Yeah," she laughed, casually pressing the button on the traffic lights.

We were on the streets of New York, as always. Rush hour was just beginning, and slowly, the air filled with the sounds of polluting, clunking traffic and the hollow blaring of car horns as the commuters patience on the roads wore thin. The lights changed to red, allowing Alison and myself to cross, which we did in silence. Once on the other side, our conversation continued.

"So what are you doing later?" she asked. I shrugged my leather jacket-clad shoulders, brushing past the heavily-laden crowds on the sidewalk.
"I dunno, probably hanging out with you," I replied, "but I have an art exam tomorrow, so I need to be up early."
"What are you going to do for it?"
"I have no idea." I smirked, but inside my mind was already whirring with the stress. She grinned again.
"Well, there's a gig on at the Yorba Lounge tonight, if that's your thing."
"Damn right it's my thing! But Yorba, that's in Jersey..."
"New Brunswick," Alison nodded, "we can get there by bus, and I'll pay, if it will save you your grant for this month."
"Are you serious?"
"Oh yeah."

"A body was found in New Brunswick that night," he snarled, "I presume you know this, Gerard?"
"I do," I muttered, my eyes swelling. I looked away, back to the page, where I would have to retell what I'd seen.
"I'm dying to know if this had anything to do with you," he continued. I shook my head, a slight incline to either side as I battled with my emotions. I still didn't know his name, but he'd watched me write, commenting on my poise, the way I winced when a memory came drifting back into my mind like a bullet to the brain, shattering my concentration.
"I'm not the only killer in the story."

The bus rattled through the dark streets a few hours later, the lights burning holes through my eyes as I lent my head on the window, the shaking glass keeping me occupied. She was watching me intently, her other hand embedded in her messy black hair.
"You okay, Gee?"
I kept my eyes fixed on the road outside as it flashed past in monotone, the reflection of myself and the lights inside the bus obscuring the colours, "It's really dark outside."
"Yeah..." Alison agreed, "A bit misty too."
"When it gets dark like this, I like to pretend there's bats and vampires and all sorts of shit out there," I smiled into the glass, "I've done it since I was a kid. It reminds me of Halloween."
"I know what you mean," she said, "you into horror flicks?"
"Yeah, I love 'em. Except needles. I hated Hellraiser, 'cos the guy had all those needles in his head."
"That was some creepy shit."

The bus slowed to a stop. The view outside was pitch black, aside from one solitary street lamp a considerable way down the road casting a faint glow onto the dark figures sauntering past.
"Our stop," said Alison, and I heard her picking up her bag from beside me, "come on."

I placed both hands on the vibrating bar of the seats in front, peeling my face from the window I had left a fog upon with my breath, and staggered off the bus and into the darkness.
The night everything changed.[/font]

[ricegrains&rosesxo.]

!!!!!
Am I a killer then?
WHO DIES IN BRUNSWICK ALLIE.
I bet it's you... who killed you?
I think you had better update 'cuz I DEMAND answers.
Lots of answers.
Like who your mystery friend is and shite.

Xoxo *SxPxF*

[decay;;]

_HALF-FILLER.

Chapter Eight

[/color]
Everywhere you looked, there were people, of all shapes and sizes. Some that looked clean, some that looked fucking dirty, some that looked so out of place it was almost compelling to watch them. There were wallflowers, moshers, dancers and drunks. And in the middle of it, there was me.

"Who's playing tonight?" I asked Alison, my voice louder than usual to make myself heard.
"A few bands. I think Thursday are as well." she shrugged.
I nodded, a smile growing on my face, "You serious? Thursday are here?"
"Yeah, do you know them?"
"Me and Geoff go way back."

It was true, we did. We'd met in a comic book shop over three years ago; I'd been looking for an interesting read, and he came and asked me if I knew of any special edition Batman books. He later told me that he'd asked me because I looked like a vampire bat myself. I'd taken it as a compliment. I suppose, with my piercing green eyes, long black hair and usual combination of black shirt, black jeans and black leather jacket, his description was probably quite accurate.

The lights died down, the crowd laughing and shouting in anticipation. As the first band tentatively stepped out before us as though fearful the stage was about to collapse beneath them, me and Alison pushed forwards, finding ourselves embedded deep within a group of tall men who took no notice of us. Unsure of what to do with my hands and fearful of getting them crushed against someone, I thrust them into my pockets and watched the singer of the band grab the microphone. He signaled to his band-mates, and they launched into an explosive first song.

It wasn't until a few songs in, the lights burning down onto my dark hair, that I recognised Geoff as the singer of the band. I knew he was with Thursday, but having been an introvert back in Jersey, I had never grasped the opportunity to see his band play. Satisfied to have found him after all those years, I turned to Alison. Her gaze were fixed on something over my shoulder, and her expression seemed almost... pleading. I knocked her on the shoulder.
"I didn't realise this was Thursday," I started, "they're pretty good."
"Yeah," she nodded, tearing her eyes away, "yeah, they are."
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, it's nothing. Not really with it."

I patted her on the arm, pretending to turn back to the band. As soon as she had followed suit, I quickly looked out of the corner of my eye, searching for what had been distracting her.
And there she was.

"You are dragging this on a little bit, don't you think?" he snarled, "Get to the point."
"What point?" I asked, "Was there ever a point?"
"I don't know, but I think you do. Don't dawdle, just write it out quick. It'll be less... painful." I tilted my head into one of my hands, my elbows resting on the table as I closed my eyes, trying to control the temper I had contracted over the months.
"There's parts a lot more painful." I choked, in the barest whisper.

Her appearance seemed almost threatening. Her long dark fringe hung dangerously into her heavily-lined green eyes, contrasting the pale white skin flashing beneath the heavy strobe lighting, making her motions look almost mechanical as she looked from the crowd to the band. Her clothes were black, blending into the darkness as though she was a spirit, haunting the dancefloor. I was transfixed.

The band had long left the stage, but still I stood watching her, the way she moved, the way she weakly smiled at the people brushing past her, the way she looked so fragile, as though she could break, but looked like she could break you. And suddenly, a hand grabbed my arm and I was roughly pulled to one side. Alison came face to face with me, gesturing at the man next to her. He held out a hand.
"Gerard! I haven't seen you in time, man."
"Hey Geoff. How's dirty Jersey been treating you?" I grinned, my mind still on the girl I'd seen. Alison's eyes were flicking between me and her, questioning.
"Things have been pretty good, we're kinda well known now," Geoff smirked, "what about you? How's the art?"

"It's going alright," I grinned, "nice to of seen you here."
"Yeah, it's been swell," he nodded, "I'll see you round sometime, Gee."
As soon as his back was turned, Alison pulled me aside a few steps again.
"What was distracting you?" she pressed. I shrugged.
"The same thing that was distracting you."
"I-I don't know what you're on about," she said hastily.
"The girl you were watching earlier," I said, "what's her name?"

"I don't... well, I mean... stay away from her, Gerard."
"What? Why?" I asked, shocked.
"She's dangerous. Stay away from her, I'm serious. Don't look at me like that."
"What's so dangerous about her?" I asked. Alison sighed darkly.
"She had bad intentions, okay?" she replied, "she's a little dodgy. Don't get involved. Please. Don't."
I sighed, my mind racing.

If she, this girl, was so dangerous, there was no way I was going to leave it there. She interested me; she was compelling, complex, a character; and I wanted to learn about her. I wanted to know everything. Her name, her story, and why I'd been warned.
Fatality.[/font]

[ricegrains&rosesxo.]

What did I ever do to you eh. =[
I'm guessing thats me anyways...
As you pointedly described the green eyes doused in eyeliner, the long dark fringe, the pale skin...
I'm not that intimidating am I? xD
Oh God. Bad thought.
I didn't kill you did I?
Or Geoff...
I get the feeling I'm a bitch in disguise =O

So yeah. More, now. (Yes, I'm very aware your eating, so get a laptop or something...)

Xoxo *SxPxF*

[decay;;]

Chapter Nine

[/color]
When I next looked, she'd moved. I searched the crowd, but she was gone, and I felt worry mixed with a sour dose of curiosity ebbing into my mind. Alison was still around, had immersed herself in a group of people, deep in conversation. Occasionally, she would steal glances over her shoulder, checking I was still with her. I was. But for how long?

"I'm going," I announced to her in a low tone. She spun around.
"Where are you going? I thought you were with Geoff." I had to admit it, she was certainly very quick at reading me.
"I don't know where he went, so I'm going for some air," I lied, "I won't do anything stupid."
"You'd better fucking not," she warned, and then her voice softened, "look, Gerard. I know we haven't known eachother long but I'm serious when I tell you to stay away from that girl. You don't want to get involved."
"Yeah," I nodded solemnly.
"I trust you," she smiled weakly, breaking my heart with her naïvety, and motioned for me to leave, mouthing 'be careful' as I turned on my heel with a final, parting curve of the lips and rushed out into the darkness.

The night was cold, the icy wind harsh on my skin as I walked, keeping the collar of my jacket close to my neck to provide warmth that didn't exist in such conditions. The sky was hanging low, a veil of thick fog covering the tall buildings and far away landscapes of New Jersey. And there was silence. A chilling, eerie silence that drove right into my soul, echoing my every thought for it was the only sound I could hear in my mind.

And she was there.
A whisper, the merest hint of a shadow, silhouetted against the mist, but I knew it was her. Even with the full moon so far above and obscured by a blanket of darkness, there was no mistaking those eyes. I froze as they travelled past me, scanning the area, and I was thankful for my dark clothes camouflaging me. Seemingly satisfied, she turned and ran into the fog. I waited until her outline had vanished completely, and contemplated my next move.

To follow, or not to follow?[/font]

[ricegrains&rosesxo.]

Yeah I'm a bitch.
But am I a murderer?
Or as it would now seem, a person with Bambi Girl eyes AHH!
We shall see we shall see.
I demand that you fight your pc off of your sister, the tramp and the chiwowa.
'Cuz this needs updating.
And various other reasons like I have stuffs coming up soon that shall remain unknown.

Xoxo *SxPxF*