Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (An MCR Fanfic)

Chapter 8- Save Yourself, I'll Hold Them Back

Cyanide Murder looked out onto the horizon. Or was she Cyanide Murder? Today she felt more like Cassie, the girl from Arkansas.

By her side was Party, who smiled as they held hands. His fire hydrant red hair fell into his shimmering eyes as they looked at her. They looked at her like she was a piece of art- a work of Vincent van Gogh? Van Gogh... the tortured genius was her favorite artist.

She was examining the figures below them. They were up high on a hill- certainly they couldn't be in Little Rock.

Is the sun setting or rising? Cassie wondered. She noticed the sky was painted with oranges, pinks, and purples. The color calmed her- that is, until she heard a loud, booming noise.

She looked to her right just as she heard screams. That's when she realized the noise had been a gunshot. So now she was staring at a bloody Party Poison- and an unconscious one, too.

Cassie was thankful for the tears that were now blurring her vision; she didn't want to see the aftermath, but it seemed she always had to. It was a terrible curse given to her- but what had she done to deserve it? What had she done to deserve this?

She couldn't forgive whoever had done this, she thought as a tear escaped from the floodgates she'd attempted to put up. What was the use? They always broke down.

It was then she made two conclusions: She was now lifeless without her lover. Her heart had been ripped out of the hollow pit the doctor's called her "chest". It was gone just like van Gogh's ear, severed from her painfully.

That, and she knew that the sun was not rising. At least, not for her; for her the sun was setting.

______

Awoken by the loudness of the radio, she woke with a start. Reality slapped her in the face and she was now again Cyanide Murder.

She shook her head in disbelief. For the past few days, she'd been getting nightmares- all about Party dying, but in various ways. An oxygen tank, a chainsaw, a guillotine- the choices seemed to be endless much to her dismay. They were always creative, too.

And even though she knew the whole routine of them- a happy moment with her and Party destroyed by his death- she still would get lost in the happy moments.

She looked at Fun Ghoul, holding back tears. It was just them and Missle Kid, whom was sleeping in the room upstairs; Dr. Death Defying and Show Pony were back in the Zones.

Her alliance was finishing yet another can of dog food. At this rate, they'd be out of food by the next midnight.

"Do you eat a lot when you're distressed?" Cyanide asked him.

"Oh, you're up," he said, licking his spoon clean though there was still some food left.

"Yes, I am." After a moment of silence, she asked, "Are you going to answer my question?"

"Your answer is no." His voice came quickly and harshly, which caused consternation to Cyanide. "I just like the taste of dog food more lately. Besides," he added hastily, "there's nothing to be sad about."

"Fun Ghoul..." she whispered sincerely. "It's okay to admit you miss Party. I know I sure do."

He looked into her cerulean eyes. "I miss him. You miss him. We all fucking miss him," he hissed venomously. "I knew him since I was in my early twenties. I'm thirty-eight now. That's around eighteen years. But you know what, Cyanide?" He leaned towards her, the smell of dog food and cigarettes contaminating his breath. "As much as I miss him, as much as I love my best friend, sometimes you just have to move on."