A Bullet Theory {I Tried}

[decay;;]

Chapter Ten

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I took a tentative step forward, my eyes desperately searching for somebody, something, anything that could comfort me. The adrenaline was pumping almost painfully through my veins, anticipation overcoming my body as I slowly walked into the cemetery, careful of my footing to avoid walking into graves hidden in the fog. If there was a place mistier than the rest of Jersey, this was definitely it. Directly beneath the moon, the world seemed to have become stained in black and light green, the fogs hue slightly lime as it drifted, blocking my vision entirely at intervals. My heart in my throat, I continued walking, every step consuming me into the darkness.

And then I saw her. Crouching at the mausoleum, her knees drawn to her chin as she shook, occasionally glancing upwards as though fearful the sky was about to collapse onto her. She was fragile again, almost pitiful, and I felt my heart sink back down again as I held my breath, sympathy taking over. I began to walk forward. As soon as I'd moved, she jumped to her feet, backing against the mausoleum. The fine hairs on the back of my neck prickled and stood on end, and a chill ran down my spine, causing me to convulse and sway slightly.

"Are you okay?" I asked, being the first thing to come into my mind. She nodded, then paused, shook her head, and nodded again.
"I'm fine." she rasped, her voice wavering slightly a though she was close to tears. Half of me wanted to comfort her, and the other half told me that an act like that could well scare her away.
"What's your name?" I asked her. She shook her head.
"I can't tell anyone."
"You can't tell anyone what?" I took another step forward. She flinched, but seemed to be relaxing. Slowly, but it was happening.
"I can't tell anyone about it. Because I can't trust anyone."
"You can trust me-" I began, but she interrupted.
"How do I know I can?" she argued.
"I guess you can't," I said, "but I'm Gerard."

I held out my hand. Her eyes widened as she looked at it, and grasped it tightly with her own, allowing me to pull her into the moonlight. Her hair was a mess, knotted and straggled as though she'd just been through a struggle, red lipstick smeared around her mouth. She was paler than she had been earlier, her make-up smudged from tears. We shook hands and as soon as I released hers, she drew it back and thrust it into the pocket of her black jeans as though fearful I might see it.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked. She nodded, with less hesitation this time.
"Yeah, I-I'm fine," she stepped closer, so that our faces were inches away, "but you need to get out of here."
"I-what?" I stammered. She gripped me by the shoulders weakly, and shook me slightly.
"I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry?"
"I-I'm sorry," she repeated to herself, breaking eye contact for the first time since we'd met, "whatever you find... I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

I looked at her, and she looked at me reproachfully, still repeating the words in a whisper to herself. In the half-light, with the rest of her face cast in shadow, her words seemed more threatening more urgent. I looked at her a few moments longer, capturing her every feature in a snapshot, and turned, running from the cemetery. I ran into the fog blindly, my feet snagging on broken twigs and nettles, my heart pounding as the darkness fell down on me. It was complete and utter black now, the moon concealed behind a veil of thick cloud, and I was frightened, and alone. I ran, and ran, without any idea where I was headed, until I felt my toes collide with something and was lifted off my feet into the undergrowth.

Spluttering, I rose myself gingerly from the ground, reaching blindly into the darkness. My long fingers lightly touched something cold, smooth. I moved my hand to the right, feeling folds of fabric, and then rough strands of damp, sticky hair. It was a person.
I drew my hands back as though scolded with a burning torch, falling to my knees as I shook, suddenly fearful as I waited desperately for something, anything to come save me. As the first rays of moonlight spilled into the fog, an eerie glow passed over my hiding place.

They were dead. Their hair matted and tangled, their face covered in scratches caked in dirt, blood staining their lips, their cheek, their neck. I lent closer, careful not to place a hand on the victims bloodstained white shirt as I looked closer, examining the wounds. Their face was barely recognisable in the scarce light, but I knew instantly who it was.
It was Geoff.

And then I realised. It hadn't been lipstick smeared around her poison lips.
It was blood.
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[ricegrains&rosesxo.]

Ohmygod.
Vampire-murderer-schizophrenic am I now.
Cool.
I don't want Geoff to be dead though Allie =[
And I don't want you hating me haha.
I can see why I'm sorry though... that sounds weird.

UPDATTEEEEE DAMMIT!
=]

Xoxo *SxPxF*

[decay;;]

Chapter Eleven

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I paused, the pen lingering in my fingertips for only a few more brief moments before I dropped it onto the table and lowered my head. The room was silent as out of the corner of my eye I saw rough hands seize the page and read the pain I'd just inked upon it. I took a deep breath and exhaled, quickly at first but gradually slower as I calmed down, the panic of the memory gradually fading back to the dull blur I'd previously remembered it as.
"So you mean to say you didn't kill Geoff Rickly?" the man said eventually with an almost mocking tone, as though expecting me to laugh and say I had. I stayed silent, but tilted my head to the left, then the right, which seemed to be an answer enough. The paper was moved back in front of me and the pen rolled into my open hand.
"One down," I didn't have to look at his face to know he was sneering, "six more to prove your innocence."
I hadn't said I was innocent.

For a few minutes I dwelled, sitting at his side like a mother waiting for her son to awake from coma, expecting some kind of miracle. Although occasionally casting fearful glances around me, I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away from the corpse of an old friend so close to me that I almost felt responsible.

Had she... had she done this?
No, she couldn't have. This was savage, brutal, reckless. Could anybody so fragile and withdrawn be capable of this... murder?
But she'd apologised... she'd kept apologising... almost as if she'd known...

It wasn't until the sound of a solitary car passed by on the close road and cast dancing yellow light across the scene that I came to my senses and I rose shakily to my feet, nettles still embedded deep into the canvas of my shoes. I shook them off, looking down once more at my friend, and ran away, as far and as fast as I could.
I could hear someone shouting my name and ran towards the voice, back into the industrial epicenter of the unfortunate state I called home, lights of the buildings and clubs and construction sites and cranes suspended in animation overhead blending together into something as surreal as the situation I'd found myself tangled in. Finally, I slowed, finding myself outside the Yorba. Alison ran up to me as I came to an abrupt halt, acknowledging my messy hair and sweating palms.

"I told you!" she cried desperately, gripping me by the shoulders and looking me up and down, "I told you to stay away!"
"Geoff..." I whispered. Her face drained of any remaining colour it may have had before then, and she cursed under her breath. I looked down at my hands, and she followed my gaze, her brown eyes widening.
"There's blood on your hands..." she observed quietly, "you can't have met... oh God... no..."
She might have expected me to inquire why she seemed so fearful, but I was lost, my body confused as my mind was left behind in the cemetery with Geoff and the girl.

"Gerard, you have to get out of here!" I was shook again, "get the 2:45 bus the fuck outta here."
"But Geoff..."
"I'll sort everything out," she insisted, "but you have to get away from this place. She'll come for you next...."
"She will?" I repeated slowly. She nodded frantically.
"Gerard, leave, now. You have to, please, get away from New Brunswick. I'll see you in the morning. Now go."

She shoved me roughly away from her and ran from me the way I'd come. I waited until her silhouette had vanished and, composing myself, walked steadily towards the bus station.[/font]

[ricegrains&rosesxo.]

Yeah I killed Geoff.
Why am I gunna go after Gerard next huh?
And why are you like, scared of me...
Just 'cuz I can kill a few people here and there.
And why do you run the way Gerard came?
You're not gunna try and negotiate with me or something are you...

UPDATEEEE.

xoxo *SxPxF*

[decay;;]

Chapter Twelve

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"Where've you been?" Mikey said as I stepped tentatively over the threshold, kicking off my shoes. I kept my hands in my pockets, suddenly aware of how suspicious I must have looked on the journey home.
"Went to a show in Brunswick," I shrugged in what I hoped was a casual voice, "saw Thursday."
"Geoff Rickly's band?" he asked. I nodded, trying to forget about the singers fate that I'd witnessed.
"Cool."

He walked back into the den of our tiny one-bedroom flat. I waited until he'd closed the wafer thin door and ran into the bathroom, locking it behind me and turning on the taps. Ice cold water began to flood into the sink and I grabbed a nailbrush from the cabinet, running my crimson hands underneath the flow. Lathering up the brush with the lime soap on the sideboard, I started scrubbing at my skin roughly, oblivious to the intense pain as I considered the events. I hadn't touched Geoff's body, so the blood must have come from when I'd shaken her hand...
But surely that didn't mean she'd killed him...

My hands were raw and beginning to bleed by the time I'd turned off the water and grabbed a towel, but at least it was now my own blood and not his. I dried them and unlocked the bathroom, walking to the bedroom and throwing off my jacket, the dull sounds of the TV echoing from the den where Mikey was, indulging himself in reality shows and murder mysteries that I suddenly felt I belonged in. I stripped down to my jeans and threw myself into my bed, staring up into the darkness of the ceiling. Next to me, the phone softly beeped, reminding me off missed messages and, more importantly, reassuring me that at least I still had someone other than my twisted, bloody memories.[/font]

[ricegrains&rosesxo.]

Awww Gerard =[
I know I should probably be going "Awww poor geoff" but that's an "Awww Gerard" moment.
Oh and, one down, six more to prove your innocence:
- Geoff
- Mikey
- Frank
- Rebbecca Nildoh
- Bert
- Me

whos the last corpse ehh???
UPDATEE.

Xoxo *SxPxF*

[decay;;]

You missed out Matt :]
Updates laterrrrr
xoxo *SxPxF*

[ricegrains&rosesxo.]

fuckkk youuuu =[
xoxo

[decay;;]

Chapter Thirteen

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"Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?" I murmured, watching the rain lashing at the dirty windows, the tattered curtains whipping wildly in the wind issuing into the cold room through the cracks in the glass. The first time I'd had this feeling. What was it?
Regret? Remorse, perhaps?
Feelings that I'd only ever read about.
"Like you expect me to change my mind." Her eyes shone from beneath her wet hair, almost bloodthirsty, the creeping rays on the moon reflecting in the emerald pools. I stared blankly at my hands, desperate for a way of bending the rules.
"Come on, Yasmin, there's got to be another way!" I pleaded, "I swear, this one-"
"You know the drill. He sees, he dies. It's worked in the past, and it's going to keep working." She smirked as she said it, sending a chill down my spine. I ran my fingers through my hair.
"Yazz, I swear, I swear on our lives, that this one is special."
"Special?"
"You can't just snap his neck and leave it there. He's different, I swear. You felt it too, didn't you?"
She shuffled slightly, her shoes scuffing on the stone floor, and for the first time since we started, she looked uncomfortable.
"You felt it when you shook his hand, passed on the blood. You felt it, didn't you Yasmin? Didn't you?"
She frowned, "Yeah."

Raining.
An electrical storm, the weatherman was explaining, pointing at the splash of royal blue moving its way slowly across the map. Another day, another week, and my mind was still trapped at the mausoleum with the girl and Geoff's body lying mere yards away. They'd found him by now, of course. I'd seen the paramedics wheeling the body away the morning that I returned, the pristine white sheet hiding a horrific truth.
It was like a horror movie, the freakish type that shakes you so bad that you can barely sleep without drawing the covers of your bed to your chin before you sleep before drifting into the nightmares.
Except it was all real.

I didn't realise that the phone was ringing until thunder cracked somewhere in the distance, jerking me from my nostalgia and throwing me brutally back to the present, where the skin on my hands remained raw and the memories still crept through the wall I had built around myself. I rubbed my eyes, reaching for the reciever, suprised that the power hadn't yet been cut.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Gerard."
"Alison?"
"I told you I'd be in touch eventually."
"You said the morning, and it's been a week."
"I had to sort something out..." her voice trailed off. I looked out towards the storm again, watching the rain hammer on the window. It reminded me of the A.A Milne poem, about watching rain racing down the window pane. When I was six, or was it five. Either way, it wasn't twenty-eight.
"Let's go for a walk."
"You have got to be kidding me. Have you seen the weather?"
"Of course I have. But I'm serious, Gee, we need to talk a little."
"About Geoff?" I hadn't intended for my voice to crack as I said it. A pause.
"Yeah."

Maybe this was my chance to find out what happened. To discover the truth about his killer, the circumstances, everything. A little rain can't hurt anybody.

"Meet at the coffee place on 12th Street."
"Alright."

The rythmn of my heart matched the dull ring of the dialling tone as I stared at the rain again.
Showdown.

[ricegrains&rosesxo.]

who the fuck am I in cahoots with =|
are you refering to gerard with the whole handshake thing? hmm?
why must he die?
what are you gunna tell him?
thats one hell of a cool update =P

mooooooooooreeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!

xoxo *SxPxF*

[decay;;]

Chapter Fourteen

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The storm was worsening as I walked the empty streets, the sky above become steadily darker as water splashed beneath my feet, the passing cars soaking me as they flew past, the drone of the engines barely audible over the wail of the wind and my own stammering breath.

And there she was, her wet hair framing her face as she stood against the side of the closed coffee shop that had been the setting of our first meeting. She stood surprisingly still in comparison to my shivering, a black scarf wrapped around her neck. I approached and she looked up as I reached her side, a weak smile faltering on her face.

"Evening," she said, eyeing me quickly and then turning her attention back to the grey sky, "sorry to call you out in such shit weather."
"It's okay, a walk does wonders," I replied. She nodded, and rose from the wall, motioning for me to follow her as she headed out of the shadows and into the downpour. Once we'd achieved a distance, she spoke again.

"So they say Geoff is a victim of the tri-city killer?" she asked. I nodded, looking around fervently as though expecting the girl from the cemetery to jump out from behind a car, or a tree, or one of the many abandoned shacks that lined the street we had just turned onto.
"Are you going to tell me who she was?" I whispered. She looked up at me, somewhat sympathetically surveying me.
"I wish I could say you'll never find out," she muttered, coming to a halt, "I wish I could stop her, just this once."
"You know her?" I asked incredulously. She nodded, then shook her head, and sighed, giving up the act.

"I told you not to get involved."
"Stop saying that," I urged, "who is she? Why did she kill Geoff?"
"She killed Geoff..." Alison looked over her shoulder briefly, but the street behind was deserted, "...because she has to."
"What do you mean?"
She laughed abruptly, "What's the point? You won't believe me. It's hard to believe but goddammit, it's completely real."
"What's real?" I urged. She looked at me for a moment, moving a lock of black hair from her steadily whitening face, and then started forwards, reaching out a hand.

"NO!" She wailed. I looked at her in confusion as her brown eyes widened, fixed above my shoulder. I turned sharply on the spot, and caught a glimpse of two green pinpricks shining out of the darkness before I was knocked to the ground, a warm sensation spreading from my throat as Alison screamed in the distance, my vision swimming before me, the cold pavement grazing my face....

[ricegrains&rosesxo.]

cars =| =|
I HATE cars.

what so I killed geoff and then allienapped you?
sweet.
I have to... to keep the modernised vampires in pinstripe jeans and ironfist jackets hidden??
possibly.
MORE.

xoxo *SxPxF*