"Stop it you bitch leave him alone!" Dallon practically screamed before rushing towards Sarah. But an invisible force hit him and threw his whole body across the room. He slid on the hardwood floor in his bare feet until he hit the couch. Dallon starred at her in pure rage and weighed his options on trying to rush her again.
"Although I do appreciate the compliment, I'm a witch deary." She smiled a cough syrup fake grin and continued torturing the poor ghost boy.
"D-Dallon..." Brendon coughed between long saber-like fangs, "Please help me..." Brendon threw his head back in pain and allowed his eyes to be shut. Sarah laughed hysterically obviously very proud of what she is doing to the ghost.
"Leave him the fuck alone!" Dallon rarely cursed but this definitely seemed like an appropriate time to.
"And what?" She snickered. "Let Hell go to ruins? I don't think so deary." Sarah looked back down to her large ancient book and kept reading whatever ancient script it was to Brendon.
Dallon didn't know what to do, his so-called friend turned out to be some sort of occult freak and his current ghost boyfriend was in immeasurable pain. "Don't call me that! And what are you talking about Hell and shit?!" Dallon rose to his shaking knees, he locked them to seem much more intimidating than he really is now. He was scarred out of his wits but his want and will to protect Brendon from further harm was something much stronger than fear.
"I do not need to explain anything to you. You are clearly petrified." Sarah scoffed at Dallon, he was starting to feel week. His head spun faster than the wheels on a race car, ready to pass out right there. He staggered to the nearest wall and supported himself with his elbows on the surface.
Sarah stopped reading and Brendon lied on the floor utterly limp. If Dallon hadn't seen the transformation happen with his own eyes he would have not believed this to be his dear Brendon. The young boy stayed there motionless and unrecognizable.
The witch bitch continued mouthing words but no sounds echoed off her chords. While she was distracted Dallon took this as an opportunity to get to Brendon finally.
Dallon took one long stride to his boyfriend allowing his legs to turn to jelly he slumped to the floor. He cradled his boyfriend in his arms, he felt heavier than a ghost should and the usual cold that came with being near his love had disappeared.
The old woman looked up at the two boys, a ring of fire circled around Brendon's body but not before she smiled devilishly and vanished in a haze of smoke. This marked Brendon's descent to Hell. Dallon watched as the man he loves dissipate in front of him with fiery specks of black cinder in the air. Brendon's transformation nearly completed, he just had one more task to complete down under.
Taking back the crown.
YOU ARE READING
The Boy in the Photograph ↪ Brallon
FanfictionAu Brallon Brendon Boyd Urie pronounced dead, 1905 aged 21 years. Little does he know he was just born into the wrong time as his soulmate lives in 2017. His soul actually being the only thing left of him to this world now and a single stained news...
