The Beginning of the End ch 1

He awoke from darkness all at once. Unsure of where he was, he attempted to convince himself he was still asleep and tried to wake himself up. It did not however work. He was not asleep. He did not feel asleep as it was. He did not even feel as though he were awake.

Gerard picked himself up off the ground. His surroundings were coated with a heavy layer of dirt and ash, which he soon found himself to be covered in. His already pale skin was washed out in his surroundings, especially compared to his black clothes. There was no sunlight, but it was not night. A brown, somewhat sepia tone shadowed the land.

The land was nothing but rubble. Buildings that surely once stood tall were piles of rotting wood and ash smoldering on the ground. Worse, Gerard found himself to be alone.

“What is this place?” he asked aloud, but his voice seemed lost in this nightmarish land. Instead, he heard sounds coming from the distance. What were they? Gunshots?

Gerard stumbled and wandered about the ashen streets. Upon the side of the road lay a broken mirror. Something inside him told Gerard not to look, but he could not resist. He should have, as his reflection would be burned into his mind forever.

Gerard’s skin was pale and lucid. It was not transparent, but it almost gave that effect in the dirty mirror. His lips were chapped and faded, much like the lyrics in his own song. (However, it was not that which caused his demise.) Seeing his eyes was what confirmed for Gerard that which he had feared. His hazel eyes were sunken into his face surrounded by black. Gerard was dead.

It made more sense to him now. He realized he was not breathing, nor was his heart beating. He had been consumed by man’s worst enemy and biggest weakness. At that moment however, Gerard felt no fear. He felt no emotion except that of indifference. It wasn’t like he was not expecting it. He realized a long time ago that everyone must die. He accepted that so he would be ready when it finally did happen. What he was wondering however was how he died. He also wanted to know why this place felt so familiar.

A light snow started to fall but the flakes did not stick. They also did not melt when they landed. The place was too cold for that, and yet they did not pile. The distant sounds of gunshots became clearer as it obviously neared Gerard. The sounds had changed though. Gerard realized it was the sound of beating drums. He wanted to go after the sound but eventually decided against it. The noise was coming to him, and he had all the time in the world to wait now that he was dead.

He had nothing to do but wonder until then. He needed to know why he was dead. He was perfectly fine with the fact that he was dead. He was not happy with it, true. He still had things in life he wanted to accomplish, so many lives to save. Now that he was gone, how many people would lose hope? Would that include his brother, Mikey? His band mates? His wife?

“Why am I here?” Gerard wondered aloud. “Have I been here before?” The wasteland seemed all too familiar. Gerard thought back to his life but he found it hard to remember. It was all a distant blur that seemed like it happened too long ago.

The beating drums were closer. Scanning the horizon Gerard saw something coming. He was unsure of what it was. It seemed to resemble a parade of some sort. The parade was slow moving as it stumbled across the dirt road. Leading the parade was a float. There were no people aboard the float, which bore a skull on its front. Walking alongside the float were two majorettes. They were dressed identically in black uniforms with silvery-white bars across their chest resembling that of a ribcage. They each had a black bar painted across their eyes. Gerard watched intently as the parade neared closer.

“How did you get here?” a startling voice asked from behind him. Gerard turned around to face yet another familiar person. She was a woman from the Victorian era. Her dress proved this entirely from its tight sleeves and puffy shoulders to its large skirt surrounded by a metal cage. The woman had frizzy blonde hair that took up much space. An old-fashioned gas mask hid her face. “How did you get here?” she asked again.

“I don’t…” Gerard began, but as he stared at his ghastly reflection in the eyes of the mask, memories flooded his vision. They appeared one right after the other as quick flashes until the answer to the woman’s question came. It played out for him clearly, the crash, the fire and flames, the flying metal, until he fell to his knees.

“What did you do to me?” Gerard asked the woman. She did not respond. Instead, she picked him up off his knees and asked for his strongest memory. Again, his life flashed before him until the clearest one played out. Gerard fell back again, but this time the woman did not help him back up. She turned her back to Gerard and stood as still as stone. “Who are you?”

“She will not answer you,” said a voice.

“She does not speak answers,” said another voice.

“Only questions,” said both voices together.

“Who…” Gerard whipped his head back to see the twin majorettes. They each held out one hand to help him back up to his feet.

“I am Fear.”

“And I am Regret.”

“Emotions of death,” they replied together.

“You two look so… familiar. Have I… Have I met you before?”

“Not personally.”

“But we haunt everyone in their lives.”

“We weed out the weak.”

“The weak cannot march with us.”

“March?” Gerard asked.

“Only Mother War can decide who marches however.”

“Who’s Mother War?” Gerard asked. Fear and Regret simultaneously pointed behind Gerard towards the woman in the gas mask.

“She is the keeper of memories.”

“Memories that tie you to life.”

“You’ve survived the emotions of death,”

“But your memories tying you to life,”

“Will prohibit you from marching with us.”

“You have to be able to let go.”

“Of what?”

“Life,” they answered together nonchalantly.

“I’m ready for death,” Gerard answered, sounding more as if he were convincing himself more than he were convincing the twins. Before he could go on Gerard found himself to be in a cemetery.

“Your only chance to say goodbye,” Fear whispered in one ear.

“Don’t screw it up,” Regret whispered in the other ear, and then they were gone.

Gerard looked around. The place was somber, as was any graveyard, but was also being drenched in rain. Behind him, he heard someone clearly failing at his attempt not to cry. Mikey! Mikey was standing lonesome at a grave. People surrounded him but he was in a world of his own. He stared at the grave with anger and sorrow on his face. Gerard looked at the grave even thought he knew what it said:

                   Gerard Arthur Way
                         1977-2008
               “Oh how wrong we were
                 to think that immortality
                    meant never dying.”

It was just how he wanted it. That was his favorite lyric ever since he wrote it so many years ago. It seemed all too true, especially now. Gerard had immortalized himself with music; however, it did not keep him from dying. Gerard was pleased that his brother had his grave done correctly. He was also pleased to realize he had been buried next to his grandmother. She was his biggest inspiration in life.

“I can’t believe this, Gerard,” Mikey spoke to the fresh mound of dirt. “I can’t believe we just put you in the ground like that. And me, standing here fine. You hate driving. I should have offered to drive! I should have died in that car with you! Or at least instead of you.”

“Mikey?” A band mate, Frank, rested his hand on Mikey’s shoulder.

“I know.” Mikey turned to leave. Your only chance to say goodbye. Don’t screw it up. Fear and Regret’s words rang in his head. Was Gerard missing his chance? He started to move, to do something, anything, for his little brother, but suddenly he stopped himself.

“It’ll be too hard,” he said to himself. “I won’t be able to go back. He won’t be able to go on.”

“‘And though you’re dead and gone, believe me,’” Frank whispered at Gerard’s grave. He finished the lyric with the help of Mikey who stopped walking at Frank’s recital. “‘Your memory will carry on.’”

“One test passed.”

“But how about another?”