Disclaimer: I do not know or own My Chemical Romance and all the events descrbed are purely fictional.
Email: eleanor.hollindrake@hotmail.co.uk or www.myspace.com/and_nobody_cares

***

A cloud drifted from in front of the full moon and an icy breeze stirred the otherwise still night as a beam of a headlight illuminated the pillar of an iron gate opening on to a graveyard which stretched from the side of the drive way into the dark void of the surrounding woodland.

"Dude, I think we're lost," stated the driver turning down the stereo and facing Gerard.

"No," said the guy sat next to him, quietly. "This is the place."

"You bring us to all the best spots," Smiled Frank, his lip piercing catching the moonlight.

"I read on the internet that it's a converted church," said Gerard pushing his long black hair out of his eyes.

Frank's face became suddenly serious. "I just hope things go better than last time," he said ominously.

"Me too," replied Gerard turning to look behind him at Ray who was playing a computer game and then at his brother who was sleeping, stretched out across one of the back seats, his thick rimmed glasses at an odd angle. "Me too."

The beaten up looking van, towing a trailer which looked even worse off, pulled up by a long, uneven pathway leading to a large oak door. The building was almost completely covered in ivy and other climbing plants, giving the impression that it had grown out of the surrounding graves many centuries before. Frank turned the key in the ignition and there was silence.

Taking a deep breath Gerard opened the passenger door and got out. The sound of it closing behind him sounded oddly loud against the silence of the dark wood. He walked around and slid open the side door.

Ray put the games console in his pocket, gave Mikey a gentle shake, and got out. "So why are we here?" He asked.

Mikey stirred and straightened his glasses. Pulling up his collar against the cold which was seeping through the open door into the van he asked, "And where is here."

"I got a call this afternoon, I don't know who from but he said he needed our help. Then the signal cut out." Gerard stood with his back to the van, looking up at the house. "And this place isn't on the map."

There was the sound of another door opening and then a thud as Frank began to unload several heavy boxes and their bags from the trailer. Mikey went to help while Ray and Gerard cautiously approached the door. It was so covered by plants that the only indication that it actually opened was the fact that it looked like someone has forced their way inside recently and there was a large metal ring in the centre. The ring looked older than the door itself. Gerard took hold of it and knocked loudly three times. There was no reply. He waited and the tried again; silence.

"Hello!" cried Ray. A large black bird was startled and took flight from a nearby tree.

Gerard turned the handle of the door, pushed gently and it opened without making a sound. In the moonlight he could see a light switch inside the door frame. He reached out and flicked it but nothing happened. "Like they ever work," he muttered under his breath.

"We should get the gear in," said Ray. "And get a flashlight."

Gerard nodded and they returned to the others. Mikey grabbed a couple of bags while Ray and Frank lifted the metal boxes of equipment. Gerard locked up the van and, taking a last look at their eerie surroundings, followed them inside.

When he entered the building again Ray had managed to find a flashlight and he was surprised to see that, instead of the wide open area he had expected, the church had been partitioned off and was more like a grand home. They stood in an ornate entrance hall that had a staircase up to the second floor and an open door inviting them further inside. The place was full of antique furniture and elaborate decoration.

Ray led them through the door and they found themselves in a large living room. Oil paintings of landscapes and various animals, all in golden frames, covered the walls, apart from where a huge fire place with a carved mantle piece dominated one of them. An assortment of moth eaten armchairs were placed around a coffee table.

"I'm going to take a look around" said Ray flicking on another flashlight, and walking back out the door. They heard his footsteps disappear up the staircase.

Mikey sat down on the floor next to the coffee table. He opened one of the metal boxes and began unloading coils of wire, web cams and various other motion sensors. He placed a laptop on the table and started it loading then began to unpack wire cutters, pliers and some electricians tape. Soon he would have the whole house wired up and they would be able to monitor every possible or impossible event that took place.

Gerard took a deep breath. It was going to be a long night. He found an old wooden box in the pile of bags and slumped in one of the damp armchairs to examine it. It was smeared with what looked like a combination of dirt and dried blood. A long scratch ran along one side and had carved out at large notch. The inscription on the lid read "For those in need."

He slowly lifted the clasps and opened the lid to reveal a row of wooden stacks, each sanded and filed to a deadly point, a bottle of clear liquid, a bag of silver bullets, an old-fashioned looking revolver and many other unusual items, each in their own compartment, cloaked in black velvet. He preferred a more traditional approach than his brother.

Over the rim of the box he saw Frank also leave the room and head back outside. Slowly closing the box and placing it gently on the floor he stood up and followed.

He found Frank outside wondering among the graves.

"You OK?" asked Gerard slowly walking towards him.

Frank turned to face him, "I can't stop thinking..." he replied.

"About Matt?" asked Gerard pulling his long black coat tighter around himself and leaning against a headstone.

"Thinking that if...if only things had been different. I mean, I know things had gotten...well...difficult but...now he's gone." Frank turned and walked further along the row of graves.

Gerard knew what he meant. It was one thing to fall out with people, but another thing entirely to lose them completely. Ever since Matt's death it was all he could think about. Life was so fragile, a glass vase balanced on a hair thin thread that was just waiting to snap; the clock just ticking down the time until your last breath.

"Thinking..." Frank suddenly continued pausing in front of a headstone depicting a woman cradling a new born baby. "Thinking which one of us will be next."

He had voiced Gerard's worst fear. What if another one of them was nearing their end? What if he had to lose someone else, someone even closer to him? He needed them. They stood in silence for a long time looking at the young woman crying over the body of her dead child many years before, her grief immortalised in stone.

"Everything will be OK this time!" he suddenly stated, almost shouted into the night startling an owl which hooted in annoyance. "I promise!" He turned and quickly walked back to the house. It had to be!

***

The dust filled column of light only seemed to illuminate his path a few feet in front but it was enough to see that the house was undergoing some sort of renovation work, or had been because it looked like the work had been recently abandoned. Ray stopped at a closed door. That was odd as every one before it had been wide open. He tried the handle. It was locked. He knocked three times but there was no reply. "Hello!" he called for the second time that night and pressed his ear against the door. He was sure he heard movement inside. Someone, or something, shifting its position, nothing more. "Hello?" he repeated but it was met, this time, with only silence.

He moved onto the final room. Ray shone his flashlight around the door. Just a bedroom with peeling wallpaper and an old-fashioned four-poster bed. So far he had seen nothing he wouldn't have expected to find in an abandoned house, only this house wasn't meant to be abandoned.

He paused for a moment. He thought he's seen something move out of the corner of his eye. His heart rate began to slowly increase. His flash light went out. Lifting it in front of him he franticly turned the switch on and off but nothing happened. The batteries must be dead. Frustrated, he hit it with his palm, then put it in his pocket. The curtain fluttered again and he exhaled slowly. He walked over to the window relieved and drew back the curtains. Moonlight suddenly flooded the dusty room making the surface of the white dust sheets glow.

Shivering he reached up and pulled the window closed. As he turned round another movement caught his eye. Like a shadow quickly flitting across the room. He paused, his heart now hammering. He stood there. Waiting. He could hear the others' muffled voices coming from downstairs but apart from that everything was still. Deciding he should get back to them he quickly left the room.

***

As he entered the living room he found it lit by several flashlights which cast long shadows in different directions around the room. He walked over to where Frank was crouched by the fire place attempting to keep a small fire going by feeding it pieces of damp wallpaper. It was the only fuel around but it just caused it to splutter. Ray sat down next to him trying to absorb what little heat it gave off.

Gerard looked up from behind a black, battered looking, leather bound book that his was reading in the opposite corner of the room. He never seemed to feel the cold. "Did you find anyone?" he enquired.

"No," replied Ray still facing the fire, which for a moment began to take before smouldering uselessly again. Frank took out his lighter and began to persuade it with the flame. "But there's a locked room up there, I think I heard something move behind it." He paused for a moment. "Mikey, I think you should set some cameras up there. And I need some more batteries for this flashlight."

Mikey reached into the box next to him, his eyes never leaving the screen, and threw a couple of batteries at Ray who caught them and began changing the ones in the flashlight. He flicked the switch but nothing happened. "Sorry," he said. "I must have broken it."

Mikey pulled his hat on over his ears and picked up a radio. "So where's this room?" he asked.

"Up the stairs near the end of the corridor. I left the curtains open in the room next to it, the moon shone right through. You should be able to see OK."

Picking up a camera and the tape he walked out of the room. "Any chance of a coffee when I get back?" he asked as he passed Gerard.

Ray went and sat in front of the laptop watching the feed coming from the camera Mikey was carrying, ready to check it as it was set up. "Any idea yet why were here?"

"No," he replied quietly. "So we'd better be prepared." Ray didn't bother asking more. He knew Gerard wouldn't say anything. He wished he had the same calm in these situations.

Frank voiced his discomfort. "I just with I knew what we were up against." A loaded hand gun sat beside his foot. In most situations a gun would do no more than stall things for a second or two but Frank was the best shot among them and had managed to stall things long enough to save them on numerous occasions.

Gerard put his book back in the box and left, out of the other door leaving the living room, in search of a kettle.

"'Sup dude?" Mikey's voice crackled through the radio. "I thought you said the curtains where open."

Ray picked up the radio and replied, "They are."

"No they're not," came Mikey's shaky reply. "I've found your door." Then came the sound of three knocks.

"Just set up the equipment and get back down here," advised Ray.

"Sure dude."

***

Mikey put down the camera and tape on a small table, walked into the end room and opened the curtains. Once again moonlight flooded the room but as he turned around he halted; frozen. There was a woman sitting on the bed.

She had long back hair which flowed over her shoulders like black liquid and dark piercing eyes which pinned him to the spot. She looked as pale as snow in the ghostly light. As she stood up the skirts of her deep purple, Victorian style dress swept across the floor.

"Who are you?" He finally managed, though the worlds caught in his throat and he was not sure if they where audible.

"A neighbour," she said simply in a soft silky voice. Se had an unusual accent which he could not place.

"Did you phone?" he asked

"Phone? Now there is curious expression, one which I am afraid I do not understand." She took a step closer.

"My friends are downstairs," he stammered. "I should..."

"Stay," she hissed. The door suddenly closed behind her as though it had been caught by the wind.

He finally managed to move and walked quickly past her and took the door handle. It would not open. He rattled the door but it was more than locked, it seemed to have fused to the wall, the wood becoming one with the frame. He turned to find the woman directly behind him. She was so lose he could feel her icy breath on his lips.

"Are you lost?" she asked.

"No," he breathed.

"Then where are you?" she inquired as she reached up, pulled his hat off and started straitening out his hair.

"I'm..." he began. "I'm...I'm..."

"Are you afraid?" she asked soothingly, moving closer so that he couldn't move away from her. His back was pressed against the door. His heart pounding against his chest. She reached up and stroked his chin, her cold fingers slowly pulling away the red scarf from around his neck and coming to rest on his throat.

"I can take away your fear" she wisped in his ear, one of her sharp elongated fangs brushing his cheek.

***

Ray and Frank both heard the door being rattled. The camera footage had recently become still and the light had suddenly been replaced with darkness. Ray looked at Frank who quickly grabbed his gun and rushed to the screen. They exchanged worried glances.

Then a voice became audible on the radio, a female voice. "Are you lost?" it said.

Frank ran out of the room.

***

Gerard, having found the kitchen, lit the gas stove with a match and put on a pan of water. His search for a kettle had failed. As the water began to bubble he was startled by Frank bursting through the door.

"Door?" he shouted

"There isn't..." Gerard began but Frank was already on the sink and out of the window where he proceeded to climb up the ivy. As his feet disappeared above the window frame the pan boiled over, extinguishing the flame.

***

Mikey couldn't move. He was paralysed, her words weaving in and out of his thoughts like an intoxicating dream. Blood rushed under her cold fingers trying to make his body respond.

Suddenly there was a crash as the window shattered. The woman turned to one side and then the bang of a gun being fired followed by an ear splitting scream. In the noise and confusion Mikey stumbled forward and fell onto the floor boards, trying to clear his head. However Frank quickly opened the now restored door and shoved him through, pushing it closed behind them and putting his back against it.

Hearing the noise both Ray and Gerard ran up the stairs. They found Frank sat with his back to the door and Mikey lying on the floor. He was shaking and didn't seem to know what had happened or why he was curled up on the floor boards. "Vampires," was all he could manage to say.

Gerard bent down and lifted up Mikey's arm, put it round his shoulders and helped his brother to his feet. He began to lead him downstairs as Ray helped Frank push a heavy set of drawers in front of the door.

When they entered the living room, Mikey as still shivering and the fire had gone out, so Gerard placed his long black coat on one of the mouldy armchairs and after sitting him down, unpacked a sleeping bag which he unzipped and pulled over him.

"Thanks," whispered Mikey.

"What are brothers for?" replied Gerard forcing a small smile. Mikey was all the family he had left and he couldn't bear to see him like this. Why did he always insist on coming? But he knew deep down that he needed him, they all did. He has like a little brother to them all. Somehow he always managed to keep their sprit up and make them smile.

"I'll never let them hurt you. I promise," he said and returned to his box. He took out three stakes and tucked them into his belt then carefully removed the revolver. He loaded it with regular bullets and snapped the cylinder closed.

As he closed the lid again he ran his fingers over the inscription, remembering the moment he first read it. The moment his life changed forever. If it wasn't for the box he would still be a depressed, alcoholic artist with no foreseeable future. He had bought it at yard sale thinking it would be good inspiration, but soon strange things began happening to him.

When he couldn't handle it by himself any more he had called Ray and Matt. As soon as Mikey heard he insisted on helping and three months later Frank had tracked them down and never left.

Ray and Frank returned carrying the rest of Mikey's kit. "We set up the camera," said Ray turning to the lap top to make sure the image was clear. The door filed the screen.

Frank walked over and sat on the arm of Mikey's chair. "Vampires!" he cursed using the word.

"You wanted to know," said Ray.

Mikey suddenly spoke, "I owe you one." His voice sounded steadier.

Frank smiled and began reloading his gun, "Like everyone else in this room," he commented. "Gerard," he looked up with a grin. "You owe me several!"

Gerard frowned. "I thought we were even after that werewolf," he said.

Frank thought for a moment. "No, you still owe me one."

Gerard picked up a cushion and threw it at him. Frank threw it back and before long the two were engaged in a violent pillow fight.

In the chaos Mikey dragged the sleeping bag, along with his bag, over to where Ray was sitting. He began rummaging through his things and pulled out a thermos flask. "Coffee?" he asked as he began to unscrew the lid. Ray just laughed.

***

Despite the ominous shadow of dread, which now lingered like a bad smell, the mood had lightened. Ray and Mikey where playing a game on the laptop (which still had a small window in the corner of the screen showing the door), Frank had managed to get the fire going, using the stuffing of a cushion they had destroyed, and Gerard sat reading a comic.

"Do you smell gas?" asked Ray looking up from the screen.

"Shit!" said Gerard getting up, put his coat on and walked through to the kitchen. He had forgotten the gas was still on when he had heard the gunshot.

He reached the stove and turned off the gas. Luckily the window was still open from when Frank had made his exit. As he turned to leave an icy blast of wind rushed through the opening, catching his coat. A cloud moved in front of the moon and the room grew dim

"Welcome," hissed a voice in his ear. He spun around but the room appeared empty.

"Show yourself you vile, undead, piece off..."

"That's no way to talk to your host now is it?" He looked up.

A pale man with short black hair and dark piercing eyes sat cross-legged on the ceiling. He wore dirt covered overalls and an amused smile which revealed long fangs.

"This is your house?" he asked standing his ground.

"Yes, don't you love it?" He dropped to the ground in front of Gerard, landing on his feet with the grace of a cat. "I'm so glad you came." His smile broadened. "We are so very HUNGRY!" He lunged forward. Gerard quickly kicked him in the stomach sending him staggering backwards and before he could recover punched him in the jaw. His neck made a dreadful cracking noise as he straightened it.

"You shouldn't have done that," said the vampire.

It jumped into the air, transforming into a large hideous bat and dived at Gerard. Its sharp claws tore at his hair and coat. Taking out his revolver he fired blindly but missed.

Frank was suddenly there, with a base ball bat, beating it off. "That's two!" he shouted over the nose of its beating wings and screeches as they fought their way out of the room. "And why did you have this in your bag?" he asked as he managed to hit it in the head. It scream revealing rows of needle sharp teeth in its black mouth.

"In case we needed it," said Gerard shooting it in the chest. The creature fell to the floor with a thud, its leathery wings draped around it. They moved closer, watching as the wound began to seal and knit itself back together. Its black eyes suddenly opened and it began to pull itself off the ground.

Quickly Gerard took a stake from his belt and drove it into the creature's heart. It screeched and writhed in pain, gasping for air, but he held it tight. Slowly it morphed back into its human form. His eyes grew wide as they faded back to blue and his fangs shrunk back. His fingers clawing the rug as he fought for the life which had already escaped him. Frank turned away but Gerard remained as he was, watching.

With his last breath the man gasped, "They are coming."

He lay still, in the moonlight, finally at peace. Gerard let go of the stake and wiped his bloody hands on the man's overalls.

Frank turned back round and put a hand on Gerard's shoulder, but he shrugged it off as he straightened up and walked away.

***

"You ready to beat the undead shit out of these motherfuckers?!" he yelled ad he re-entered the living room.

"You bet!" exclaimed Mikey turning up his collar and he belted on what appeared to be an 18th Century sward.

"How long we got?" asked Ray shoving components and batteries into his pockets.

"About a minute," said Frank, closing the door behind him and running to the fire. He grabbed a shirt from one of the bags and tied it around the end of the base ball bat, then set it alight.

They stood in the centre of the room. Gerard with his revolver in one hand and a stake in the other, Mikey holding the sward out in front of him like a samurai, Frank holding the flaming bat at arms length with his gun tucked into his belt and Ray frantically unscrewing one of the radios.

"How long do you need?" asked Gerard.

"Hopefully not longer than we have," Ray replied.

For a while all they could hear was the crackle of the fire and their own breathing. Then a small sound began to weave its way into the building. At first it seemed like no more than the wind, but it soon grew until all they could hear was frantic whispering. It came from every direction, mingling so that no single word or phrase could be distinguished.

The door handle to the kitchen turned. A woman in a long purple dress entered but she was not alone, many more figures entered after her, some in the same old fashioned clothing, and others in more modern styles, but all of them with the same piercing eyes.

As she slowly walked towards them her gaze never left Mikey. "I'm so glad we should meet again." Gerard felt Mikey shiver beside him.

"You can't touch my brother. And you can't keep my friends," Gerard shouted over the babble of whispers. She hissed and ran forward. Mikey suddenly stepped forward and raised his sword. Her head dropped to the floor with a thud.

The whispering suddenly stopped to be replaced by hisses and screeches as the vampires rushed towards them, some transforming into bats, others remaining in human form.

The sound of gun fire erupted as Gerard and Frank sent shots into the crowd. Frank kept them at bay by setting fire to their clothes, causing more confusion among them, while Gerard fought them off with his bare hands. He had used his six shots and had no time to reload his revolver so he had tucked it into his belt, taken a wide stance, and now aimed accurate kicks and punches at any who dared get too close.

One of the bats dived at them and Mikey swing up with his sword, severing one of its wings. The creature fell to the floor screaming.

"Almost done?" shouted Gerard over his shoulder as he punched a vampire before Frank turned round, took his gun out and shot it.

"Nearly," Came Ray's frantic reply as he began twisting bare wires inside the now unrecognisable radio.

Without realising they had retreated across the room and were now by the door. "Out!" shouted Frank and they rushed through the door shutting it behind them.

The hissing started again and now it also came from behind the front door which now loomed in front of them. Over the babble of whispers came three loud knocks. They stood there, frozen, staring into the darkness before them.

"They can't enter unless they are invited..." began Ray.

"...Or the resident is dead," finished Gerard under his breath.

"The stairs?" suggested Frank and they quickly ascended the stair case as the door behind them opened. They continued until they reached the end room, still barricaded by the chest of drawers. They were trapped.

The vampires knew this and slowly advanced towards them along the dark corridor. They whispered and hissed as they seemed to glide along the floor boards.

"Ready!" said Ray and flicked a switch. They held their breath.

Nothing happened. Several of the vampires laughed. He franticly began examining the mass of wires.

"What's it do?" asked Mikey backing up against the drawers.

"The batteries are dead!" panicked Ray.

Frank and Gerard stood side by side, eyes fixed on the creatures which approached. Both ready to fight to the death, or even an eternity of darkness, if they had to.

***

His blood pounded in his ears. His eyes strained against the darkness. He started forward then stopped, just like he had when he'd heard the first gunshot. This would be his last chance and he knew it. With trembling fingers he checked the flashlight. A sudden burst of light revealed it still worked. He took a deep, desperate, breath and turned the key in the lock.

***

The door beside them suddenly burst open and a terrified looking man rushed into the corridor. Noticing the tangled mass in Ray's hands he thrust the batteries towards him

Ray quickly slotted them in place and the small space was suddenly flooded with a high pitched, ear splitting, noise. The five of them covered their ears as the vampires screeched in agony. Transforming into their bat like forms they flew from the source of the sound as fast as they could. When he was sure they where safe he switched it off and they where left in deathly silence.

As his ears began to stop ringing Gerard said "Good idea."

"I didn't even know if it would work," replied Ray. "And thanks," he added uncertainly to the stranger standing next to them. He was dressed in black and had blond hair and the beginnings of a beard.

"Are the police on their way?" he asked.

"Police?" said Mikey.

"We shouldn't stay here," said Frank looking round at the blocked door behind them. Gerard nodded and they set off back downstairs, the man following behind uncertain what to do.

They returned to the destroyed living room. The furniture had been thrown to the sides of the room. The fire was extinguished and the flashlights destroyed leaving the room cold and dark once again. Blood smeared the walls and stained the rugs but the bodies had been removed. They looked around at their belongings and equipment which lay scattered among the wreckage.

Frank heaved an armchair the right way up and slumped in it letting the blackened base ball bat fall to the ground. Mikey found a scrap of curtain and began cleaning his blood stained sword and Gerard started hunting through the mess as Ray tried to get the lap top working.

"Who are you?" asked the blond haired man who now stood in the door way. He didn't know what he had expected, but this certainly wasn't it. The short man who had been armed with a base wall bat lay in an armchair. He had tattoos covering his arms and one of a scorpion high on his neck and his ears lip and nose where pierced.

The guy who had constructed the strange device from a radio was tall and had an afro and now walked around the room collecting together things that belonged to them.

One sat on the floor cleaning what appeared to be a sword. He was wearing a jacket with a large collar and a red scarf around his neck. His straightened hair fell in front of his thick rimmed glasses.

And finally was the man who seemed to be in charge, their leader. He had long black hair which had become matted with dry blood and was wearing a long black coat with several long tears cross the shoulders. He finally stopped, reached under a pile of cushions and pulled out an old wooden box.

"My name is Gerard Way," he said taking a bag of bullets out of the box and reloading this revolver. "That's my brother Mikey," he said nodding in the direction of the guy with glasses, "Frank Iero," he indicated the armchair, "and Ray Toro."

"And you?" asked Frank with his eyes closed, looking asleep.

"Why are you here?" he asked instead.

"We followed Gerard," laughed Frank.

"I got your call," came Gerard's serious reply.

"But I rang 911..."

"Well you got us."

"Why don't you sit down," suggested Ray, righting some more furniture. They all sat down and Mikey poured him some coffee.

"My name is Bob Bryar," he began. "I came here a couple of days ago. A mate bought this place and I was going to help him do it up, only, when I got here the place seemed deserted." He paused, staring at his coffee. "I couldn't find him anywhere. Then the sun went down. I heard whispering, I thought I was going mad." He spoke slowly and quietly, as though he chose every sentence carefully before saying it. "He suddenly appeared but..." there was another long pause, "...he was one of them. The key was in the door of that room and I locked myself in until dawn."

"Why didn't you leave today then?" asked Ray. "Vampires can't stand the sunlight, they burn."

"This mansion's not a house but a tomb," he continued darkly. "The doors seal as the sun rises and the ivy grows thick over the windows like bars, so thick you can't cut through it. I phoned 911 but as soon as I said I needed help and where I was the signal cut out. At sunset I locked myself in again." He finished and sat in silence. His icy blue eyes fixed on nothing.

Gerard finally spoke. "Then we have to leave by dawn!"

"Well we don't have long," said Frank looking at his watch. Mikey looked out of the window. Behind the ivy he could see the sky growing paler.

"Let's go then," he said and they began to hurriedly pack the things they needed into bags they could carry. Within ten minutes they were standing by the front door. The deathly silence was unnerving.

"Will they just let us leave?" asked Bob looking around. His question was answered by whispers which began to fill the air again.

"If we can just get to the van," said Ray.

"Right!" said Gerard and threw open the door. They ran. Winged creatures dived at them as they stumbled down the path and from the graveyard, on both sides, deathly figures advanced.

Mikey couldn't think straight. The whispering confused his thoughts. He felt a sudden wave of dizziness and tripped on the corner of a paving stone. He felt himself fall but could not react. He hit the stone with a thud knocking the air from his lungs and cracking one of the lenses in his glasses. The bag he had been carrying hit the floor, scattering his belongings. As he coughed and tried to breathe an icy shadow fell over him.

Suddenly the bats stopped their assault and the whispering began to die down. Gerard reached the van and turned to see Mikey in the grasps of a pale figure with long, matted blond hair, his scarf lying at his feet.

"NO!" screamed Gerard and started to run back but Frank and Ray grabbed him and held him back. He struggled to free himself but they just tightened their grip on his arms and shoulders.

"You can't!" said Frank, though he wished he could let go. But they couldn't let him go back and get himself killed. They needed him. The world needed him. Bob shrank up against the van, terrified. The figure smiled as the crowd gathered behind him. "Now he shall join us!" he declared into the quickly departing night. Gerard's eyes flooded with tears as he watched him lower his head and sink his fangs into Mikey's throat.

The sun rose over the horizon sending the first golden rays of light to flood the driveway. The creatures fled, hurriedly flying back inside or to their graves, but the one holding Mikey was not quick enough. He dropped Mikey's limp body and began screaming in agony as the sunlight burned his flesh. He fell to the ground and they watched as he burned until all that was left of him was a pile of ash which the wind began to blow away.

Frank and Ray let go of Gerard and he ran to his brother, dragging him into the shadow of the building. Mikey's breathing was shallow and pained while his eyes were wide with fear. Gerard felt like someone was ripping his heart out. He knelt down beside him and took his hand. "Don't go," he whispered desperately. "Don't leave me."

Mikey stared up at him as though struggling to recognise him. "Please save my soul," he said softly.

Behind his broken glasses black tendrils began to spread across his irises, staring at the rim and weaving their way towards the pupil until his eyes were black. He had gone very pale and his hand was cold to the touch. Ray, Frank and Bob now stood behind Gerard watching helplessly.

"Can you..." Mikey gaped, revealing his teeth, as a pain shot through the roof of his mouth, "...stake me..." he tightened his grip on Gerard's hand and screwed his face up as his canines became elongated, "...before..." he gasped for breath, "...the sun..." He was rigid with the pain and effort of fighting what was happening to him.

Frank crouched down behind Gerard and said simply, "Bury him."

He knew what he had to do but it was one of the hardest decisions he had had to make in his life. He couldn't! But he had to. He had to save his brother. He reached for a stake from his belt.

His face was streaked with blood and tears as he placed the stake over Mikey's heart. "Why?" he cried into the dawn. With the last of his willpower Mikey reached with one hand and held it in place.

"I'm sorry," breathed Gerard as he drove it into his chest.

Mikey lay still on the stone paving. His eyes faded back to a clear hazel but were distant. His fangs receded but he remained cold and pale. Gerard held his body close to him, tears dripping from his chin into the pool of blood surrounding them. It was over. Everything was over. His world had ended.

Eventually he leaned back and removed his shattered glasses. He would no longer need them. He pulled the lids down over his eyes. Ray put a hand on his shoulder trying to comfort him but he suddenly stood up and walked away into the graveyard. What did it matter any more? Nothing mattered. He felt alone in the world. He had killed his own brother. Could he even live with himself anymore? He reached the headstone of the girl holding her child and sat down beneath it.

He leant back, resting his head against the stone, staring up at the sky. Had he sent him to a better place or would an eternal existence have been better? Had he even saved him? He took out his revolver and began emptying out the bullets. Five dropped to the grass. He would only need one.

He closed his eyes and placed his finger on the trigger.

***

Frank suddenly lashed out and punched the wall, not flinching as he grazed his knuckles. Ray sat down on the ground, staring at Mikey's vacant face.

Bob broke the silence. "Was he fully...gone when...?" he asked from a short way off, struggling to find the right words. They'd almost forgotten he was there.

"What's it matter now!" shouted Frank hitting the wall again. This time blood began to dribble down his wrist and he stood, his head resting against the stonework.

"I might be able to help."

Frank turned round, brushing his fringe from his eyes. "How?!" he demanded angrily.

Bob didn't reply. Instead he knelt down next to Mikey's body and placed his hand on his chest.

"Don't," said Ray, but he gently took hold of the stake. He closed his eyes and slowly began to remove it. As he did blood began to soak through his top from the same position as Mikey's wound. He pulled the stake free and fell back on his heels.

Mikey took a deep shaky breath and slowly opened his eyes as though waking from a deep sleep. Ray and Frank moved closer "What did you do?" asked Ray in astonishment. Mikey tried to sit up but struggled, Frank supported him with his arm. He was dizzy and weak, but alive! They couldn't believe it. Neither it seemed could Mikey. With a shaky hand he pulled open his jacket, undid his shirt and looked down at his chest. There was still a large gash over his heart but it was now only half an inch deep and had stopped bleeding. "How?" he asked quietly and then he saw Bob sitting a short distance away holding his jacket to his chest.

"You alright?" asked Ray.

"I'm OK," he insisted. "Trust me." He smiled.

"I'll go get the first aid kit," said Ray and hurried off towards the van.

"Where's Gerard?" asked Mikey looking around. Frank just looked out into the graveyard in the direction Gerard had left. Suddenly the quiet morning was shattered by the sound of a gun being fired. Mikey hauled himself to the feet. Frank made to follow him but he insisted he should go alone.

***

Mikey found his brother lying on a grave with his head resting against the head stone. The wind blew his hair across his face and disturbed the dead leaves that surrounded him. His revolver was still clutched in his hand and an angel opposite was missing a head.

"Glad I'm not an angel then," he remarked.

Slowly Gerard opened his eyes as he recognised the voice. Had he finally gone insane? As he had held the gun to his head flashes of memories form his child hood played before his eyes. Watching horror films, reading comic books, listening to music and all of them with Mikey. Though he didn't know how, he had to carry on. Mikey wouldn't have wanted him to do this. So he had turned the gun away from himself and fired it with frustration, unintentionally hitting the angel.

Gerard stared disbelievingly at the skinny figure in the ripped bloodstained shirt looking down at him.

"Gerard, that is you, isn't it?" asked Mikey squinting at him.

It really was him! Gerard jumped to his feet and embraced his brother so tight that he was once again struggling to breathe.

"How?!" he asked desperately. Had he missed? But Mikey was definitely alive.

"I used the force dude!" said Mikey. "Just kidding, it was that Bob guy."

"How?" asked Gerard again, thinking that his brother becoming part of the force made more sense.

"I don't know," replied Mikey fighting free of Gerard's hug. "You should ask him."

"I will!" said Gerard handing back Mikey's cracked glasses and putting an arm around him. Holding him close they walked back to the van

When they arrived Ray had bandaged up Bob who was doing better than would have been expected of a guy who just made a severe gash in his chest. He had stopped before it had killed him, which was why Mikey was not completely healed. He had shared the wound with him.

As soon as Gerard saw him he ran forward and attempted to crush him like he had Mikey. "Thank you so much!" he declared before realising Bob had winced in pain.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Fine," replied Bob.

"Can we make our super speedy getaway now?" asked Mikey with a grin.

"Sure," said Ray and climbed in the driver's door. The rest of them threw the scattered bags in the trailer and climbed in the back. Ray turned the key in the ignition and the van pulled away, moving quickly down the driveway.

"And where we can give you a lift?" asked Ray over his shoulder. "Like a hospital?"

"You wouldn't be going past Chicago by any chance would you?" he asked with a grin.

"Sorry," said Ray, pretending to take the request seriously.

"Well, the airport will be fine," he said.

Frank watched the house vanish in amongst the trees. They almost seemed to absorb it back into themselves. He returned his gaze to the van where Gerard and Mikey where now lying next to each other on one of the seats, looking as though one of them would fall off at any moment. He smiled. They were a strange pair, but they wouldn't want them any other way.