The Murder Scene (Frerard)

Would I Lie To You?

Chapter Five.
Title from Hang 'Em High by My Chemical Romance.

Returning home was full of anxiety for me. Full of wondering what will happen if Miss Florence finds out that Frank is alive, full of thinking of all I had to say and wondering how convincing I can be. Will she know that I'm lying?

I walked through the front doors of the house, it was rather elegant and a nice size for who lived here, not too big or small. My room is one of the few that are upstairs, including hers. I never knew why that was but I never thought to ask.
Upon entering I was greeted by Ray, who was walking down the hall with a large smile in my direction "good afternoon, Gerard" he said, his goofily friendly tone always left me wondering how he can be so friendly after the job we do. Perhaps his friendliness is his weapon.

I nod at him and make my way to the stairs, walking up and instantly heading for my room.
Once I was there I let my eyes wonder around the small, yet perfect room. Everything was neat and dull, almost numbing in itself.
Not long after I began to unpack I heard the familiar high heels clicking against the hardwood, and before I had time to think another thought, Miss Florence appeared in the door way.
"Ah, Gerard" she said pleasantly "the job is done, yes?" She asked, her dark eyeshadow slightly glimmering in the light of my room.

"Yes" I answered, trying my hardest to just act normal.

Miss Florence raised her chin for a moment, looking at me with a look that seemed to me like suspicion, but perhaps I was just paranoid. If I told her now she would have someone else do the job. I can't do that.
"And it all went to plan? It looks like an accident?" She asked.

"Yes, Frank Iero accidentally injected too much heroin this time.. it was a shame" I said, returning her classy tone with mine. Everyone was always formal with her as she is with us, but she is typically the only person I speak to.

She gave me the ghost of a smile when she turned up her lips ever so slightly "your sum of the pay is in my office, when you finish unpacking feel free to stop by and grab it" she said, turning to walk back down the hall.

As soon as she left I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. For some reason lying to her was harder than killing, apart from Frank.
Nothing would've made me kill him.
I would die before I killed him and I don't understand why that is, I don't understand how he can mean something to me.

Once I collected the money from her, I stored it with the rest of the money I've earned.
Miss Florence gets paid quite a lot from what I understand. I heard Ray talking one morning about the number, he said between twenty and fifty thousand per person, then again I'm not completely sure how trustworthy he is. I know her rates change depending on their requirements, but we get about one thousand each kill, she keeps the rest. She takes care of us for sure, but I know she spends most of the money on weapons and illegal material used for killing, and she's able to live comfortably.

One thousand every kill.

When I first started, I told myself that I would save money to get out, because I didn't realize that I was stuck here forever. I didn't realize that agreeing to her would mean I was never able to work my way out of here, I was wrong. I never had anything to spend the money on, so it piles up. I'm not necessarily saving it, I just don't have anything to spend it on. Everything I need as far as living goes is taken care of.
Some of her monsters dress glamorously, or have gotten surgeries, or get expensive cars with the money.
I just don't have a use for it.

So one thousand dollars a kill, with a kill at least once a week and most of the time more, for five years now has added up to quite a bit of cash.
If I was allowed to leave, there's no telling how far this money would get me.

One thing I did buy with the money was a safe to keep the rest of my money in. It's not that I don't trust my housemates.. but they are all hired serial killers. I wouldn't trust any of us.

***

"Hey, are you Peter?" The friendly looking man asked. There it was again, the guilt, but I didn't feel for him the way I felt for Frank.

"Yes, I am" I replied, watching as he moved out of the way for me, inviting me inside.
I always feel bad about killing people inside their homes, but it made it better that he didn't have a family.

I wonder if he likes having his clients in his home, if he prefers it more than working at an alternate office.

"My office is right back here, follow me" he said enthusiastically as he lead me down a hall and into a rather large room. The room had a desk and lots of books, and in the middle was a sitting area along with normal therapist things.
Tissues sat on a glass coffee table and fumbling items in a wire basket beside the couch.

I sat on the couch and he sat down across from me on an armchair, flipping open a folder and clicking his pin.
"I'm going to have you sign some paperwork regarding insurance" he said nicely, holding a clipboard out to me.

My hands were shaking almost violently as I tried to hold the pin, but he didn't seem too unsettled about it. I am in therapy after all.

Who would want a therapist dead? Why?

Ever since Frank, I've been questioning the reasoning behind everyone's murder. I've been increasingly uneasy with it all, I've been feeling more trapped than when I didn't feel anything at all and I wanted out.

Frank told me that I could leave, he told me I had more than three options and that's stuck with me ever since. What if I could actually get away from this? I could stop killing people.. I could try, but Miss Florence would be on the look for me my entire life. Is there a way to escape from it all? I would have to leave the country.

I shook all of that out of my head, being so distracted on a job can be dangerous for me.
I glanced up at the therapist as I began filling the simple things out, like my fake name.
He was looking at a file, giving me time.

Only a few minutes passed and I found myself holding a gun to his head while I slit his wrists. His body was to be left here, that was the instruction so I had to make it look like a suicide. I held him still with a gloved hand until he bled out.

I felt guilty. Not only for him but for whoever was going to find him. I made sure to shred the insurance papers and dispose of a folder he had already titled with my fake name.

A therapist committing suicide, that's quite sad.

Once I returned, I walked through the front door, briefcase in hand. I felt heavy, like I have felt for a very long time but now that I wasn't so numb it was almost a darker kind of heavy.
"Gerard" I was instantly greeted with the stern, cold, elegant voice of Miss Florence. Her voice echoed as she stood at the top of the staircase, an overly serious look on her face. "Come to my office. Now" she demanded, and by her look I could tell she knew.

Oh God. She's found out, she's going to have someone kill Frank, has she already sent them?

I felt he heaviness in my chest crush me, taking all of the air from my lungs and leaving me nearly gasping. I can't take this, I can't. I felt pressure behind my eyes and my chest ache terribly as I rushed up the stairs to her.
I need to know what she's done so I can stop it.

I don't care about me anymore, I don't care about what happens to me but I can't let them get to Frank, I just can't.

I need to protect him.