|When The Singing Ended A Killjoy fiction
Author: Phantomcrawler PM
This story picks up right where the music video "Sing" by My Chemical Romance was left off. It starts off with a young killjoy, named Liquid Firefly, discovering something horrifying in BL/i's morgue.Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure - Words: 2,054 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 7 - Published: 04-27-11 - id: 6943378
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
My breath caught in my throat as I looked at the body in front of me. I wish I hadn't unzipped that body bag, because I now stood in the morgue with silent tears falling down my face. I wasn't even supposed to be here, if I was caught, I'd be as good as him right now.
In front of me lay the still, lifeless body of Party Poison.
That man had taught me everything I knew, he'd taught me more than Dr. Deathdefying, more than… More than anyone.
"Oh, God…" I felt sick. I felt a solid lump rise in my throat as I glanced across at the other three body bags. I didn't dare open them, because I knew what - or who, I should say - they held. I didn't need, or want, to see their bodies.
A hand clasped over my mouth, I sank to my knees, letting out choked sobs as I did so. How could I stay quiet now? How could I go on? How on earth would I keep running now? I stared up at the metal slab in front of me, the one that Party Poison rested on. I could see one or two clumps of his bright, so ironically lively red hair hanging over the sides, as well as his gloved hand. As much as I wanted to tear my eyes away from this awful sight, I couldn't… I tried to weep quietly into my hands, instead of staring up in horror at the body of the man that taught me how to survive.
Eventually I forced myself to look away. I'd never see those beautiful eyes again… I'd never see Kobra kid's karate kick and I'd never see Fun Ghoul's smile again. I'd never see Jet Star look after that little girl as if she were his own and I'd never see Party Poison slide the Trans Am or dust a Drac ever again.
Oh God… I had to tell them, if they didn't already know, that is… I had to tell the other Killjoys that their beloved four had perished at the hand of BL/i…
I didn't even know how I got here. I woke up somewhere in this dull, plain, mind-numbingly-boring building and walked around for a while, eventually stumbling across this room.
Killjoys never die.
Killjoys can't die.
Not these ones… No, no… I wouldn't believe it.
A hand rested on my head, I felt my heart stop. Korse had found me. It had to be him, or a Draculoid… I stiffened automatically, preparing myself for the laser beam that would end my mourning for the boys. Fingers laced gently through my short hair, I should be dead by now… I thought, my heart pounding in my throat as I cautiously turned to see who was holding me by my hair…
"Oh my God..." I breathed out quickly in shock. The man on the metal slab was holding my hair as though for dear life. Quickly, I scrambled to my knees, peering over the top of the slab to see if what was happening was real of not, "Poison... Is... Is that you?"
At first, I thought I must have imagined it, as the body didn't move, nor was the hand anywhere near me anymore. He lay perfectly still, as he had been since I'd seen him in here, not so much as a twitch... Until I saw the corners of his mouth slowly turn up into a triumphant smile, his eyes flickered a little, but didn't open, "No, it's David Bowie..." he replied sarcastically, his mouth only barely moving, as though he was in pain.
Even after death, that Killjoy still managed to surprise me. I shakily stood up, staring down at him. My eyes traced over every aspect of him, as though inspecting to make sure he was telling the truth. Dirty black boots covered the bottom of his filthy, what should have been white, jeans. His jacket, the unique blue, red and white colours formed the same design as his jacket usually did, the symbol he'd made for himself was firmly printed onto one of the breasts of it.
He sat up, wincing a little. Sliding from the metal table, he raised his arms over his head and stretched, as though waking from a long slumber, instead of returning from the dead. He then started searching for ray guns, an unlikely –but not impossible – thing to find in these morgues. Scalpels, saws, all sorts of medical instruments lined the otherwise empty benches; they were lucky they woke up before the Dracs had started dissecting them, by the looks of it.
Convinced, at last, my thoughts turned to the others. Rushing over to the three remaining body bags, I saw them twitch and move a little as those inside them started to come back to life, to wake up and live to fight another day. I hurriedly unzipped the bags, letting the boys breathe. My short black hair jutted out randomly as I ran a hand through it, looking in amazement at the reborn killjoys.
"You never fail to amaze me..." I laughed.
A cheeky grin flashed across the blonde man's face for an instant before it returned to a poker face mask, refusing to show his emotions in such a place as a morgue, let alone one of BL/i's morgues. The lean, muscular man hopped down from his own slab, taking a few wobbly strides towards Poison, his brother. He rested a hand on his brother's shoulder and whispered something to him before turning to face me, "What are we doing here?"
"Kobra, you were ghosted. I don't know how I got here either, but I'm guessing the same thing that happened to you... I woke up here and found you."
"Hmm..." Kobra Kid's tone was less than 100% believing, but he'd trust me eventually, I hoped, "How do we get out without getting dusted again?"
He wasn't speaking to me, I knew he wasn't. He was talking to his comrades, the same three he'd died alongside not so long ago. One, Fun Ghoul, ran a hand through his greasy black mop of hair and sighed, completely puzzled. Jet Star sat with his head in his hands, leaning forward off his slab.
As they discussed how to escape, I watched intently. Like a child watching her mother or father do something incredible, I watched in pure astonishment as the Killjoys that had literally just risen from the dead decided upon an escape plan. They scratched their heads, snapped their fingers and grinned as each of them thought of a new scheme, regardless of it being ridiculous or not.
Unthinkingly, I spoke aloud, "We could always sneak out..."
The four men all turned to face me with a bemused expression on each of their faces. The one to speak was the one I had expected to take the lead; Party Poison took a step or two forward and leaned down to where I was now sitting on the cold, hard, white, concrete floor...
"How do you suppose we go about doing that, exactly?" he asked, his bright red locks of hair falling over his face.
Pulling the mask down over our faces, we checked to make sure our colourful, eccentric clothing was hidden by the white suits we wore over the top. Sucking up a deep breath of air, we looked between each other and nodded briefly, procrastinating leaving the safety of the room. After all, what's safer than the dead?
We walked briskly through the empty halls, looking as though we were walking with a purpose, instead of trying to figure out an escape from this depressingly white coffin for the living. We passed Dracs, real ones, and they seemed to buy our cover, as they turned the corner without so much as a second glance.
The thick glass showed us the outside world, the hot, dry, red desert that awaited us in the distance seemed so far away, we were truly in Battery city, right in the heart. If we could reach zone 3 or 4, we'd be safe – or safer than this. What were the chances of us making it that far though? 0? 0.5?
Someone turned their head to the left, sharp; as though he'd seen something he really didn't want to. I couldn't tell who it was that had looked, but the next thing I knew, he was running. Sprinting down the corridors, holding a white ray gun, as dull as the Dracs, without a personality, he raised the gun, ready to fire.
A man, bald and almost elf-like in looks; with big, dark eyebrows that curved sharply downwards to form a frown, was walking briskly towards us. His grey suit was as dull as everything else in this place. Korse smiled; a sinister, evil smile that made me shudder noticeably. Poison removed his mask and threw it carelessly to the floor, still running at the grey man. He fired repeatedly, desperately trying to kill the man.
"You took her!" he growled through clenched teeth, "She was a kid, and you just took her!"
The firing angry and off target, but Korse backed away, nonetheless. He didn't have his ray gun, and there were no Dracs to witness this or defend him. He turned on his heel and walked quickly down the hall, shouting 'intruder' and 'the Killjoys. They're alive!' over and over as he did so.
Soon enough, the halls were filled with Draculoids, firing randomly in the general direction of Party Poison, the only one who wore no mask. As far as they knew, we didn't exist. Poison ran, he didn't know where, but he ran. He sprinted down the halls with a new found enthusiasm, he was searching desperately for an exit.
A chair stood meekly in the corner of the corridor.
"Firefly! Break the window!" He was talking to me; Liquid Firefly. The name he'd given me when I'd first appeared in the outer zones; when he found me unconscious in the desert.
I glanced at the chair, then back at the Dracs, who were still trying to get Poison. I picked up the chair and threw it off the window, which cracked loudly. A spider web of glass had cracked. One more, maybe two more throws like that and we'd be out of here...
Now the Dracs were coming for me, catching my shoulder as I threw the chair again, weakening the web. Their white suits and terrifying, horror-movie masks made me shrink back a little. They raised their ray guns and pointed at me. There was nothing I could do. This was it.
I was going to die at the hand of BL/i.
Thoughtlessly, I grabbed the chair again and ran at the Draculoids. What I was doing, I didn't know, but it was working. The Dracs recoiled to avoid the legs of the chair as I swung it around once, hitting three or four of them before hurling it at the window with twice as much force as the last times. I ripped my mask off to reveal my satisfied smirk of triumph.
"Boys! We're gone!" I called, leaping from the window, which was only on the first floor. One story up was nothing, I thought back to when I was younger; I'd broken my foot trying to jump from the second floor window. When it had healed, I tried jumping again, but the second time, I succeeded.
The killjoys tore their Drac masks away and tossed them to the floor, following me out of the window in a shower of laser beams. All five of us landed with a loud thud on a white van, rolled down the windscreen, and slipped off the bonnet. We looked between each other and smiled before throwing ourselves over the side of the bridge the Killjoys had walked over when they came to rescue the girl and stumbling down the grassy embankment...