frerard oneshots

We can run away from here

-NOT SMUT!!!
-Gender bend Frank (Francesca)
-TRIGGER WARNINGS: murder, suicide, stealing, arguing and some assorted organized crime.
-Third person P.O.V.
-This story, plotline and idea is my own original creation however the characters are based on real people who are nothing like this in real life.

"I can't do this anymore!" She yelled from about ten paces behind him. He stopped, turned around to look at her and noticed her gun was pointed in his direction. He pulled his handgun from the holster an his and froze, rethinking the events of that night.

Francesca and Gerard marvelled at their paper faces littering the streets. Gerard knew they couldn't stay in New Jersey much longer, after all, the police were closing in and soon enough would find the bodies stacked up by the side of the shed. He thought about how sloppy their last job was and how that was their downfall. Francesca stared at her boyfriend and knew something was up. She walked over to him, grabbed his hand and they made their way up a side street.

It was the dead of night and the bitter air reeked of death and sin. The street lamps flickered and cats prowled around rubbish piles looking for a nice, fat rat to eat. Shady looking shops were closed and their shutters were covered in graffiti, tags and stickers. Francesca stopped outside a shop window and looked inside. She spotted the rows of cigarettes lining the shelves behind the counter. Smashing the window, she stepped inside. Walking towards the cigarettes, she picked up other little things like chocolate, crips and two Redbull energy drinks. She grabbed a pack of cigarettes and left the shop.

"What are you doing?" Gerard hissed, snatching one of the drinks and a cig from the packet. Francesca shrugged and took one out for herself. She reached into her back pocket for her lighter, lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. Gerard took the lighter and lit his own before they set off walking again.

After what seemed like forever, they got to the dock. They noticed a small boat at the end. Suddenly a man emerged from the boat, surrounded in a thick, eerie fog. Gerard took the gun from his holster, aimed it at the man laughing about how easy this shot was going to be. He pulled the trigger and the man fell to the ground. He walked over to the lifeless body that was now oozing blood on to the pavement aand took the keys to the boat.

Just as he was about to step on to the boat, he heard a shout from behind him. "I can't do this anymore!" She yelled from about ten paces behind him. He stopped, turned around to look at her and noticed her gun was pointed in his direction. He pulled his handgun from the holster an his and froze, looking at her. For a moment, sympathy flickered in his eyes. He felt bad and it cracked through his rough exterior for a fraction of a second. It exposed his vulnerability and pain. Just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished.

Not even a second later, there was a flash and a bang. Gerard's ears were ringing. She lay dead on the floor, her finger still on the trigger. Bits of her skull and brain matter were splashed on the wall behind her. Her gun was still pressed to her temple and Gerard let out a relieved sigh, getting on to the boat. "Sorry Frankie!" He shouted at her lifeless body.

As he started the motor, the sun started to rise. He turned the boat around and drove it off into the distance. Whilst looking at the sunrise, he thought about the many times they sat on a motel roof during their "buisness trips", watching the early sunsets over Monroeville. "What a waste," He muttered to himself, "At least I didnt have to pull the trigger." He laughed slightly at his joke and wiped a sad, lonely little tear from his eye. Now to get the hell out of New Jersey and start a new life.

Hope you enjoyed this short story. I wrote it in an english lesson for an assessment.
-xoxoKit