*Preview* BANG! The door crashed open and the creaks of the loose floorboards were like thunder in the deathly quiet room. A glimmer of velvety metal became clear in the nighttime atmosphere, a breeze blowing the curtains open further, pointing them in the direction of the closet, as if to give away the hiding spot. It was as silent as death himself in the tar black room, the only sound was Franks heavy and dangerous breathing as he clutched the phone to his chest, the 911 operator still speaking frantically as his death loomed closer, and he had quickly silenced her with the cotton material of his shirt. Sweat seemed to drip from his every pore in a liquid fear, the salty smell of it almost suffocating in the tight space. The creaking floorboards became softer as the footsteps eventually faded from the room. And Frank let out a relieved breath, which would become the biggest mistake of his short lived life, and would surely be his last. Because the owner of the footsteps had never gone away. They grew louder and louder in the silence until finally the closet door was yanked open and Frank was dragged out. He was met with wild hazel eyes and hair as red as the blood that would surely be flowing from his corpse within minutes. The man that would surely be his killer gave a terrifyingly beautiful grin, his already pale face illuminated by the moonlight and then he spoke. It was a whisper, silent as the wind rustling leaves on the trees outside, that would give Frank chills for the rest of his short lived life. "Found you, Frankie." ×××× Gerard Way is a serial killer, and he's proud of that. He's a psychopathic sociopath who doesn't feel emotion the way he should, and he doesn't care. He never cares. He views human emotions as a toy to play with, and he is fascinated by blood, gore and death itself, and once he decides to go on a killing spree, Frank Iero will become his prey.