A Murder Scene Canvas
Title: A Murder Scene Canvas. 2
Author: alt_3_etf
Pairing: Frank/Gerard, Ray/Bob
Rating: NC17
Warning: Death, Murder, Homosexuality, Cursing and Rape.
Disclaimer: I don't own them.
Summary: Gerard is a world famous artist for his Murder Scene genre. After 3 years of only allowing photographs of his drawings and paintings online, he is finally allowing his first painting - known as Death Wish, to be hung in a gallery in New York. However, just down the street there is a life size replica of his painting, only instead of red paint, its blood.
Author's Notes: Over a year since I wrote anything on here. Life got in the way, I apologise.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
The Station
“Look, Mr Way, how did you post your art online without anyone stealing it?” asked the larger officer. I sighed, “I already told you officer, I had a friend add a block onto the sight which disables; screen shots, copy and pasting and disfigures photographs if somebody took a photo using a camera. I don’t know how he did it, he just did.” The officer in front of me was obviously becoming agitated.
“We need to know who this ‘friend’ was Mr Way, he could be our prime suspect.” My eyes widened, “No! He would never do that. Trust me officer, he isn’t like that.” Unconvinced, the officer raised an eyebrow, “And how do we know that?” I caved. I know I shouldn’t have but I did. “It was my brother, Mikey.”
-
I didn’t like sitting in the waiting room, waiting for both Bob and Mikey to emerge from their interview rooms. The area was chilled and painted pale mint. No magazines or books cluttered the room and no posters or framing hung on the wall. My eye was twitching from insanity within 5 minutes.
“Mr Way, officer Toro would like to see you again in room 4,” boomed the intercom. Sighing, I stood and scrapped my feet across the cheaply laid tiles. I knocked on the heavy wooden door once before it was opened by one of the pigs. I was ushered into the room and sat down next to my brother and best friend.
“Now, I’m sure you are all aware of the situation, am I correct?” Officer Toro recalled. We all gave a small nod because, I wasn’t sure about them but I didn’t trust my voice anymore.
“So, you three are the only people who hold copies of any of Mr Way’s art work?” I was about to agree when I suddenly remembered, “No, Bob never had copies of my work, only Mikey and my Nonn- uh Grandmother did but after she passed away, we retrieved the canvases before anyone else could.” Accepting the statement, officer Toro hummed in agreement.
“We need to find this sick son of a bitch, Gee. I’m sorry but I’m not having your work being criticised because some nut-crazed fan decided they liked your work a little too much,” Mikey growled. “I know Mikes,” I replied. “The cops will sort it out. All we can do is hope that it was a one-off and the start of a series.” It was as if I’d said the most retarded thing in my life. It hit me through the middle of my chest. I snapped my head towards the officer, “My next canvas is being hung in another gallery next week.”
Sighing, the officer sat opposite us, resting his elbows on the table and rubbed his face with his gritty palms. “Well, then we’re going to have to make sure you don’t tell anybody which you are putting up. If you don’t reveal which painting you will be hanging, they won’t be able to plagiarise it in their victims that is of course if, this is victim was one of many.”
I turned my gaze to the shorter officer. He hadn’t spoken since I’d met him, not even at the gallery. He stood leaning against the wall opposite Mikey, Bob and I, his official hat rested under his crossed arms, whilst his right leg was bent, placed against the wall. Looking closely, I noticed he had tattoos on his neck and fingers, a small hole just under his lip where he obviously had a piercing and from what I could see, a hole in his nose too. He looked attractive, no scratch that, he looked drop dead gorgeous.
His gaze was on my brother, it was cold and harsh, his eyes giving away his thought process. He thought Mikey was guilty. Well, he wasn’t.
“Okay officer,” I started. “I won’t tell anyone except the four of you.” Well five, if you count the tanned officer behind the glass. I shuffled in my seat, leaning closer to the centre of the room.
“Sweet Revenge,” I whispered.
-
“Ladies and gentlemen, it is an honour to present you all with Mr Gerard Way!”
The audience began to applaud and whistle whilst I stepped onto the stage. Cameras flashed and questions and murmurs filled the room. I stopped in front of the podium and cleared my throat.
“I want you all to know that I appreciate all that you have done. Thank you for not pointing the blame to me when that poor girl was killed in the likeness of my painting. However, as advised by the police I haven’t revealed which of my paintings will be placed in this gallery to anybody so hopefully, the murder will be a one-time thing. I send my thoughts out to the friends and family of young Helena and I hope she rests in peace.”
The hall was silent as we let a minute of silent respect for the young girl pass our thoughts.
“Now, it is my pleasure to reveal for the second time, one of my favourite paintings, Sweet Revenge.” The curtain behind me slid to the side and exhibited my art.
Sweet Revenge really was one of my favourite paintings; it was probably one of my firsts too. The background on the canvas was pale white, living in contrast with the noir figures on the material. One figure that was clearly female, stood with a blade held in her hand, blood dripped from the metal tip, into a delicate puddle at her feet. The other figure, male, knelt on the ground, face in his hands, whilst blood dribbled from his body and onto the stiff dead corpse laid beneath him in a pool of crimson liquid. It wasn’t a very pleasant painting but to me, it represented the hatred and the passion within the human soul.
I nodded towards Officer Toro and his partner (whose name I still did not know but I just called him Hot Cop) and headed towards my brother and best friend, who were both, for some reason, drinking lots of champagne.
I quickly snatched the glass from my brother. “Take it easy there Mikes, the night is still young,” I said before taking a sip of the piss like liquid.
He growled at me and glared. “Hey! I like this stuff okay? It’s sweet.” I nodded in agreement and downed the rest of the glasses’ contents. I grimaced; it wasn’t very nice at all.
The night drew to an end and the guests were leaving, people bought copies of my painting, along with Death Wish. Butterflies erupted in my stomach. I was going to become the successful artist my Nonna always believed I could be, I hope she would be proud of me. I’ve tried my hardest and well if it isn’t good enough, then I no longer need to live, right?
The gallery was empty and the cleaners were piling in to sweep and disinfect the floors and tables of the nasty germs all the guests transferred into the room. Mikey and Bob started talking to Officer Toro whilst I packed up my stuff and said my goodbyes to my art.
I turned only to bump into (literally) Hot Cop. “Oh, s-sorry,” I muttered. He smirked and I wanted nothing more than to punch it off his sexy, smug face.
“No worries Mr Way, I was simply coming over to tell you that we’re going now, there’s been no reports of any murders or a-like so we’re confident to say that it was a one off at your last reveal.” I wasn’t really paying attention. I was too busy looking at the scorpion at the side of his neck move along with the vibrations he made whilst talking. His skin was slightly tanned and his chin contained small amounts off stubble. He was so cute; I wanted to kiss his cheeks and let my lips trail down to his throat and continue-
“Mr Way?” I snapped out of my fantasy. “Huh?” I asked, my face obviously holding a confused expression. He smiled and handed me a small business card, “If you need me at all, for anything just call me on this number and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
I smiled and took the card from him before shoving it into my back pocket. Note to self: Save number to phone, put it in address book and in number draw.
He left the gallery with Officer Toro and I was left in the centre of the room. God damnit! I forgot to get his name! Oh, wait. I pulled the card from my pocket and glanced at the letter. Frank Iero. Frank...he looked like a Frank.
I sighed contently and placed the card back in my pocket before leaving the gallery with my smallest fan club.
Walking down the dark street, only lit by street lamps I was nudged by my brother. “Sooo, you have the hots for Officer Iero right?” he smirked. I snorted. Of course I did but I’d never live it down if Mikes knew. “No,” I answered. He wasn’t entirely convinced and neither was Bob. “Well he’s attractive,” I hesitated. “I mean, sure he’s hot but he isn’t my type you know? I like them a little bit taller,” I quickly slid in. Phew. Hopefully I was off the hook. “Yeah right Gee, whatever you say.” Or not.
We entered the abandoned car park building. It was kind of dark; I could only make out shadows thanks to the dim lights outside. Mikey and Bob were slightly behind me as I dug into my pockets to find my keys. Finding them, I pulled them out only to drop them a few inches away from my car. I groaned in frustration whilst bending over to pick up them up by one of the metal rings. I stood up and -
“FUCK!” I leapt back from the car, dropping my keys again. I heard my groupies’ footsteps closing in on me before they both gasped.
“Gerard, it’s-”
“I know Mikey.”
“What’re we going to do?” I looked at Bob. “I don’t know...” I looked back to my car seeing the vicious scene in front of me. A mannequin dressed in female clothing stood stiff with a knife in its hand, blood was on the blade still dripping meaning it was fresh. Another mannequin knelt on the floor, its upper body dipped in red water which was running southwards, onto the concrete ground. And there, laid at the kneeling mannequin’s body lay an unrecognisable corpse, just like the painting.
Author: alt_3_etf
Pairing: Frank/Gerard, Ray/Bob
Rating: NC17
Warning: Death, Murder, Homosexuality, Cursing and Rape.
Disclaimer: I don't own them.
Summary: Gerard is a world famous artist for his Murder Scene genre. After 3 years of only allowing photographs of his drawings and paintings online, he is finally allowing his first painting - known as Death Wish, to be hung in a gallery in New York. However, just down the street there is a life size replica of his painting, only instead of red paint, its blood.
Author's Notes: Over a year since I wrote anything on here. Life got in the way, I apologise.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
The Station
“Look, Mr Way, how did you post your art online without anyone stealing it?” asked the larger officer. I sighed, “I already told you officer, I had a friend add a block onto the sight which disables; screen shots, copy and pasting and disfigures photographs if somebody took a photo using a camera. I don’t know how he did it, he just did.” The officer in front of me was obviously becoming agitated.
“We need to know who this ‘friend’ was Mr Way, he could be our prime suspect.” My eyes widened, “No! He would never do that. Trust me officer, he isn’t like that.” Unconvinced, the officer raised an eyebrow, “And how do we know that?” I caved. I know I shouldn’t have but I did. “It was my brother, Mikey.”
-
I didn’t like sitting in the waiting room, waiting for both Bob and Mikey to emerge from their interview rooms. The area was chilled and painted pale mint. No magazines or books cluttered the room and no posters or framing hung on the wall. My eye was twitching from insanity within 5 minutes.
“Mr Way, officer Toro would like to see you again in room 4,” boomed the intercom. Sighing, I stood and scrapped my feet across the cheaply laid tiles. I knocked on the heavy wooden door once before it was opened by one of the pigs. I was ushered into the room and sat down next to my brother and best friend.
“Now, I’m sure you are all aware of the situation, am I correct?” Officer Toro recalled. We all gave a small nod because, I wasn’t sure about them but I didn’t trust my voice anymore.
“So, you three are the only people who hold copies of any of Mr Way’s art work?” I was about to agree when I suddenly remembered, “No, Bob never had copies of my work, only Mikey and my Nonn- uh Grandmother did but after she passed away, we retrieved the canvases before anyone else could.” Accepting the statement, officer Toro hummed in agreement.
“We need to find this sick son of a bitch, Gee. I’m sorry but I’m not having your work being criticised because some nut-crazed fan decided they liked your work a little too much,” Mikey growled. “I know Mikes,” I replied. “The cops will sort it out. All we can do is hope that it was a one-off and the start of a series.” It was as if I’d said the most retarded thing in my life. It hit me through the middle of my chest. I snapped my head towards the officer, “My next canvas is being hung in another gallery next week.”
Sighing, the officer sat opposite us, resting his elbows on the table and rubbed his face with his gritty palms. “Well, then we’re going to have to make sure you don’t tell anybody which you are putting up. If you don’t reveal which painting you will be hanging, they won’t be able to plagiarise it in their victims that is of course if, this is victim was one of many.”
I turned my gaze to the shorter officer. He hadn’t spoken since I’d met him, not even at the gallery. He stood leaning against the wall opposite Mikey, Bob and I, his official hat rested under his crossed arms, whilst his right leg was bent, placed against the wall. Looking closely, I noticed he had tattoos on his neck and fingers, a small hole just under his lip where he obviously had a piercing and from what I could see, a hole in his nose too. He looked attractive, no scratch that, he looked drop dead gorgeous.
His gaze was on my brother, it was cold and harsh, his eyes giving away his thought process. He thought Mikey was guilty. Well, he wasn’t.
“Okay officer,” I started. “I won’t tell anyone except the four of you.” Well five, if you count the tanned officer behind the glass. I shuffled in my seat, leaning closer to the centre of the room.
“Sweet Revenge,” I whispered.
-
“Ladies and gentlemen, it is an honour to present you all with Mr Gerard Way!”
The audience began to applaud and whistle whilst I stepped onto the stage. Cameras flashed and questions and murmurs filled the room. I stopped in front of the podium and cleared my throat.
“I want you all to know that I appreciate all that you have done. Thank you for not pointing the blame to me when that poor girl was killed in the likeness of my painting. However, as advised by the police I haven’t revealed which of my paintings will be placed in this gallery to anybody so hopefully, the murder will be a one-time thing. I send my thoughts out to the friends and family of young Helena and I hope she rests in peace.”
The hall was silent as we let a minute of silent respect for the young girl pass our thoughts.
“Now, it is my pleasure to reveal for the second time, one of my favourite paintings, Sweet Revenge.” The curtain behind me slid to the side and exhibited my art.
Sweet Revenge really was one of my favourite paintings; it was probably one of my firsts too. The background on the canvas was pale white, living in contrast with the noir figures on the material. One figure that was clearly female, stood with a blade held in her hand, blood dripped from the metal tip, into a delicate puddle at her feet. The other figure, male, knelt on the ground, face in his hands, whilst blood dribbled from his body and onto the stiff dead corpse laid beneath him in a pool of crimson liquid. It wasn’t a very pleasant painting but to me, it represented the hatred and the passion within the human soul.
I nodded towards Officer Toro and his partner (whose name I still did not know but I just called him Hot Cop) and headed towards my brother and best friend, who were both, for some reason, drinking lots of champagne.
I quickly snatched the glass from my brother. “Take it easy there Mikes, the night is still young,” I said before taking a sip of the piss like liquid.
He growled at me and glared. “Hey! I like this stuff okay? It’s sweet.” I nodded in agreement and downed the rest of the glasses’ contents. I grimaced; it wasn’t very nice at all.
The night drew to an end and the guests were leaving, people bought copies of my painting, along with Death Wish. Butterflies erupted in my stomach. I was going to become the successful artist my Nonna always believed I could be, I hope she would be proud of me. I’ve tried my hardest and well if it isn’t good enough, then I no longer need to live, right?
The gallery was empty and the cleaners were piling in to sweep and disinfect the floors and tables of the nasty germs all the guests transferred into the room. Mikey and Bob started talking to Officer Toro whilst I packed up my stuff and said my goodbyes to my art.
I turned only to bump into (literally) Hot Cop. “Oh, s-sorry,” I muttered. He smirked and I wanted nothing more than to punch it off his sexy, smug face.
“No worries Mr Way, I was simply coming over to tell you that we’re going now, there’s been no reports of any murders or a-like so we’re confident to say that it was a one off at your last reveal.” I wasn’t really paying attention. I was too busy looking at the scorpion at the side of his neck move along with the vibrations he made whilst talking. His skin was slightly tanned and his chin contained small amounts off stubble. He was so cute; I wanted to kiss his cheeks and let my lips trail down to his throat and continue-
“Mr Way?” I snapped out of my fantasy. “Huh?” I asked, my face obviously holding a confused expression. He smiled and handed me a small business card, “If you need me at all, for anything just call me on this number and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
I smiled and took the card from him before shoving it into my back pocket. Note to self: Save number to phone, put it in address book and in number draw.
He left the gallery with Officer Toro and I was left in the centre of the room. God damnit! I forgot to get his name! Oh, wait. I pulled the card from my pocket and glanced at the letter. Frank Iero. Frank...he looked like a Frank.
I sighed contently and placed the card back in my pocket before leaving the gallery with my smallest fan club.
Walking down the dark street, only lit by street lamps I was nudged by my brother. “Sooo, you have the hots for Officer Iero right?” he smirked. I snorted. Of course I did but I’d never live it down if Mikes knew. “No,” I answered. He wasn’t entirely convinced and neither was Bob. “Well he’s attractive,” I hesitated. “I mean, sure he’s hot but he isn’t my type you know? I like them a little bit taller,” I quickly slid in. Phew. Hopefully I was off the hook. “Yeah right Gee, whatever you say.” Or not.
We entered the abandoned car park building. It was kind of dark; I could only make out shadows thanks to the dim lights outside. Mikey and Bob were slightly behind me as I dug into my pockets to find my keys. Finding them, I pulled them out only to drop them a few inches away from my car. I groaned in frustration whilst bending over to pick up them up by one of the metal rings. I stood up and -
“FUCK!” I leapt back from the car, dropping my keys again. I heard my groupies’ footsteps closing in on me before they both gasped.
“Gerard, it’s-”
“I know Mikey.”
“What’re we going to do?” I looked at Bob. “I don’t know...” I looked back to my car seeing the vicious scene in front of me. A mannequin dressed in female clothing stood stiff with a knife in its hand, blood was on the blade still dripping meaning it was fresh. Another mannequin knelt on the floor, its upper body dipped in red water which was running southwards, onto the concrete ground. And there, laid at the kneeling mannequin’s body lay an unrecognisable corpse, just like the painting.