He finds himself in the graveyard, and really, when getting to a whole new town, a whole new fresh start, Frank reckons that the last place he wants to find himself is in a graveyard, among dead people. Frank reckons however that there's hardly any difference in the gloomy atmosphere of the rest of the small town and the graveyard itself, perhaps even the graveyard is happier because the graveyard has this abundance of people that Frank needs right now.
As expected, nineteen year old Frank hasn't been doing all that well since his parents died. First of all, he was still utterly deprived of any cause or explanation and the police had completely left him hanging here, only suggesting that he moved in elsewhere to a new place to deal with their loss.
Frank just knew he should've been there when it happened, but he hadn't been, he'd been out at a fucking gig with this stupid guy he'd met the other night and at home, his parents they'd been fucking attacked or murdered by something or someone and it was just fuck.
He couldn't take it - he wanted to get out of there and boy he fucking needed to, but a tiny town with his grandparents, whom he'd met once many years ago was not what the nineteen year old had imagined at all. New York to rural New Jersey was a big change, and with the absolutely dreary atmosphere that this town pulled down on you like a thick foggy blanket, Frank perhaps reckoned that he'd be better off at home, even with the bloodstains on the walls.
They could never get out the blood and it felt just as permanent as the memories of walking home and seeing them there.
Somehow, though, the graveyard is peaceful, the graveyard is what he needs and most of all, it's empty and he's alone, and that's the first time that Frank lets himself cry.
He slides down against the cold stone exterior of the mausoleum and pulls his black jean clad knees up to his chest, letting his shamefully gay eyeliner run down his cheeks as the tears begin to burst through.
Fuck, he needed a fucking smoke, he needed fucking anything to help him forget what had happened, but he really doubted a town as fucking small as this had any kind of drug scene whatsoever, and it wasn't as if his grandparents were going to let him help himself to their alcohol either.
He didn't even know anyone, he bet no one in this town at knew where to get even some pot. Fuck, what Frank would do right now for some pot, god, he just needed this all to wash away and the greyed tones of this tiny little town did nothing but help the unforgettable blood red stain across his mind stand out.
From a top the hill the graveyard lay on Frank could see the whole fucking town spread out beneath him; fog coated over the top and the sky and buildings all one far too familiar shade of grey. Frank had no idea what he was doing here - there was nothing to do here. He was just beyond glad he was too old for school, because he couldn't imagine the school here doing anything more than making him want to put a fucking gun to his head and finish off the job of whatever killed his parents.
It was just the fact that they hadn't been killed with a gun or a stab to the heart or anything simple like that - they'd been killed psychotically, brutally, almost even lustfully - they'd been killed like someone took joy in their demise and wanted to prolong the deed as much as they could. They'd been stabbed everywhere and sliced upon with ferocity, but their wounds looked far worse than something that could have been done by a knife... the wounds looked like they'd been made by claws and fangs, and they looked almost as if they belonged to some beast or another.
But Frank wasn't stupid, this was just the workings of a particularly fucked up psychopath, and maybe Frank should be grateful that he was out of the state and that they wouldn't come for him next. He reckoned that he just wanted to be left alone here for a while before he could recollect his sanity and perhaps finally make his way back out into the real world, but as quiet and dull as this town was, he just knew he was never quite that lucky in anything, and that trouble would somehow find its way to him, eventually.
For now, it was just a waiting game, and Frank pulled down his knees, sitting crossed legged on the desaturated grass, almost ready to let his eyes roll back into their sockets and close completely, his eyes fixated upon the fog at the black, gothic styled gates of the graveyard, positioned as if it was guarding the place, almost ominously like a gateway.
The fog was sort of calming, almost protectively separating Frank from the rest of the two under its pale grey smoking blanket, and for the first time in several weeks now Frank felt somewhat safe and he let his eyelids flutter, and just as he was about to close them, completely burying himself amidst a blanket of darkness, the fog parted slightly.
And as the fog parted, the pale grey was replaced by a black, blacker than black, a shape, a figure, absolutely devoid of all light - recognisably human, to an extent, yet not quite, something was off.
The figure grew larger, stepping forward and Frank came to realise that the darkened figure had been watching him every since he arrived, the fog not serving as a safety blanket, but perhaps more of a blindfold.
-
Hey so you know what's possibly the worst decision I could make right now? Starting another fucking fanfiction... And what am I doing right now? Yes. I'm sorry, lol no. So yeah, I've wanted to write something like this for a while and seriously blame Buffy The Vampire Slayer and yeah also I'm kind of in love with the cover:')
I really have no idea how well or consistent this is going to go but oh well, we'll try. The next chapter could be either tomorrow or in four years time, you see it's like a pick and mix you don't know what you get isn't that great? Aren't I stupid please accept this stupid fic into your hearts I am a prat okay bye:') I love you all<3
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Antichrist (Frerard)
FanfictionThey were murdered, they were attacked and now they're dead. That's all Frank knows about his parents - gone before he'd even had chance to miss them, and it was fucking with his head. The police reckoned that moving away, to rural New Jersey with h...
