43 Years of Frankenstein {Frerard}

1 • And There I Was, Digging a Hole

"Sure you don't need a ride?", Ray repeated for what felt like the millionth time now.

"Really, it's fine, The weather is great.", Frank rolled his eyes at him.

"Well I'm running late, so I'll see you around?"

"Sure"

"Bye Frank! Oh and don't forget! We're having the shots on Monday!"

"Shit" Frank murmured under his breath.

Every year the town picks a specific day for all citizens to que at the hospitals to check for the Armageddon virus. 

Ray drove his shabby vehicle into the cold night leaving Frank his thoughts to accompany him on his way home, and maybe a few cigarettes. But who's he kidding. It wasn't a home. It was a cheap-ass, worn out apartment complex where he rented the dusty, ragged old apartment above the land lady's. Speaking of the old wench, Frank was about a month late on his rent.

"God" he chuckled around the cigarette as he fitted the rest of the pack into the back pocket of his jeans.

***

"Damn it!" Frank almost screamed at the last cigarette in the pack.

He should've just let Ray drive him home.
Frank was fucking lost! He must've obviously taken a wrong turn somewhere because he might be on his way to an abandoned chapel of some sort.

He thought maybe he would sit on the muddy ground and admire the few patches of dead grass and lifeless trees that still decorated the cemetery.

God! I never wanna be buried here, Frank thought to himself.

As he walked towards the church he started to notice how worn out it was. There were the occasional initials and 'fuck you's spray canned on the grey stoned walls, that were hidden somewhere behind the moss. The glass windows were stained and broken letting some of the vines and moss make their way in.

People say they find sanctuary in churches. I think those people are full of shit! Frank thought as he made his way towards the chapel.

He passed the tagged walls and the rusted iron gates to reveal to him the path to "Sanctuary"
Frank looked up and poised his arms as if calling out to it, looking for a little glimmer of light to change his view on this false hope.

Nothing happened.

Frank made a clicking noise with his tongue on his teeth and his arms fell to his sides.

"Full of crap" he said to himself as he stubbed out his last cigarette and entered the already open doors.

Which meant someone was inside.

Maybe it was a priest and Frank could confess his sins.

Frank chuckled coldly as he made his way up the stone, cold steps.

As Frank made his way down the aisle, he was welcomed by dead silence, which was expected. But what failed his expectations was the inside which was nothing like the outside. It was intricately designed with lights dancing around the navel as though it was sparkling with magic. The inside was absolutely gorgeous and the marvel of architecture. It was like some English Tudor Gothic style. It was beautiful and tranquil.

But the quiet really started to piss him off.

Don't get him wrong. Serenity and tranquility were Frank's middle names. But he lived alone, and the only company he got was dead silence. It pierced through his ears constantly. Sometimes he would snap his fingers just to drown it out.