Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story. This never happened. I don't own the concept story to 'Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge', I just thought it would be cool to write about it.

***

Gerard Way hadn't had an easy life. As a child he never fit in and was constantly bullied. As he got older he had constant problems with drug addiction, alcoholism and until early October in 2004, he had suffered from depression. He had done a lot of things he wasn't particularly proud of. There was a woman, THE woman, who had helped him out when he needed it the most. She was always there for him, even if he didn't return the favour as often as she would've liked. Nonetheless, they were in love and things were starting to look up for Gerard.

Helena

He sat in his Jersey apartment, a red rose in his hand and his heart on his sleeve. His long, black hair fell around his handsome face. He looked at the ring on the coffee table and closed his eyes. Tonight he would propose to his girlfriend, Helena. After all those years of being together he would finally pop the question. His train of thought was interrupted as he heard the door knob being turned. He stood up and pocketed the ring. There was Helena, his true love, standing in the door way in her waitress's uniform. Her dark hair was slightly wet, as it had started to rain just as she was walking into the building. She tossed her apron onto the kitchen counter in a graceful movement. Everything about her was graceful, the way she talked, the way she moved. That was what drove Gerard crazy.

"Hey honey." She greeted him with a soft kiss, "Why so dressed up?" She motioned at his black dress pants and black dress shirt. All he ever wore was black, that and a little bit of red now and then.

"Why so dressed down?" He touched the collar of her white, rain-spotted shirt, "C'mon, we're going out for dinner."

"Okay then, I'll go and get changed." She went into their bedroom and Gerard sat back down on the leather couch, torn a little at one of the corners from one night when Gerard was so drunk and high on drugs he could've died, if not for Helena. He thought back to April last year.

Gerard sat on the floor of the bathroom with a gun to his head. His eyeliner was streaked down his face from the tears. He was on the verge of pulling the trigger when he heard Helena's voice.

"Gerard? Are you in there? Please come out so we can talk about this!" her voice sounded shaky.

"No. The only place I'm going is to hell." He took a deep breath, and then Helena burst in the door.

"NO!!!" she cried, "Please don't! I love you, Gerard! I can't live without you." Tears ran down her face, and as Gerard looked into her teary eyes, he realized what he had to live for. He slowly took the gun away from his head and put it down on the tiled floor beside him. He touched Helena's face with his trembling hand.

"Thank you." He said. She pulled him into a tight embrace. They stayed there all night as far as he could remember.

Gerard was pulled out of his own memories by an angel's voice. "Gerard!!" he jumped. Helena was standing in front of him, hands on her hips. "My God! You were miles away. What were you thinking about?" she asked. "Oh, nothing. Let's go." He picked up his wallet and pocketed it beside the ring he would give her tonight. He handed her the red rose.

"What's the occasion?" she asked, sensing something in the air. "No occasion. Just wanted to show my baby I love her. Now, are we going or what?"

They left their apartment hand in hand. Gerard had chosen the fanciest restaurant in Jersey to propose to Helena, the Bella Muerte, an Italian restaurant that served the best pasta in the whole of New Jersey. The waiter seated them and gave them their menus.

Over in the corner, a group of Italian looking gentlemen were discussing something very low-key. One of them pointed at a group over the other side of the restaurant. One of them walked over to about the center of the two tables and pulled out a gun. He shot the oldest member of the other group right between the eyes. Before they knew it, a gun fight had broken out in the Bella Muerte.

Bullets flew around, one of the gang members ran behind them and a barrage of bullets came their way.

"Helena! Get down!!" Gerard yelled. Just as they were about to duck, a stray bullet hit Gerard in the chest. He went down like a ton of bricks. "Gerard!" Helena screamed. Blood poured out of his chest as he looked up at his soul mate. "Helena" he said weakly, reaching into his pocket, "Will you marry me?" Helena broke out in tears.

"Yes, Gerard! I will! But first you have to live! Fight it, Gerard, come on! For me." She held his hand until the moment he closed his eyes and whispered, "I love you..." Then he stopped breathing.

"No!! Please no! Come back! No, no, no, no, no..." She collapsed on the floor next to him, crying and holding his hand as his soul slipped into the afterlife. He plunged into darkness and fire surrounded him, flames lapping at his body. It was so hot but Gerard felt nothing.

"Helenaaaaaa..." he called into a pit of nothing, he expected an echo but heard nothing in return. The fire stopped, and he landed on the hard rocky ground of something that looked like it had come out of a movie. Looking around, he noticed a throne made out of stone and fire. Sitting on the throne was an evil looking man.

"Gerard. I wasn't expecting you so soon, my boy." It's deep voice rang through the darkness.

"W-where am I? Where's Helena?" he stammered, struggling to see anything but the dark silhouette of the man's face.

"You, dear sir, are in hell, making me Lucifer, Satan, the devil, the unholy lord if you will. Helena is still alive and kicking.. or so I'm told." "Oh my God. I'm dead. I'm in hell. Why am I in hell?"

"You did some bad shit when you were alive, Gerard, although I don't suppose you remember that well." Gerard looked down at the wound in his chest.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no."

"Oh yes, boy. Now, I wasn't expecting you so soon, so unfortunately there isn't a place for you yet so here's what I'll do for you, because frankly, you remind me of me when I was alive." Gerard didn't know whether to take it as a compliment or an insult, so he kept looking down, "I am going to give you the chance to be with young Helena again." Gerard looked up, thinking there must be a catch.

"But," he paused, "you must do something for me." Here it comes... thought Gerard. What evil deed would the devil have him do? At this point he would do anything to be with Helena again.

"You will go back to the mortal plains and collect for me the souls of one thousand evil men. Do you accept this?"

"Yes, anything."

"Good." Satan handed him a gun, "Now go. You have exactly 1 year starting... now." He flicked his wrists and a blast of fire came from his palm, engulfing Gerard and taking him back to the mortal plains.

When Gerard woke up, he was somewhere in New York City.

"I guess this is where I'm supposed to start, then." He said to himself. He was lying on a bench in Central Park. All around him was a giant blur of busy people rushing past him. He sat up and pocketed the gun beside him quickly and inconspicuously.

"How do I find the evil ones?" he asked himself. He asked the nearest person for the time, a preppy sort of guy in an old O-Town t-shirt. The prep just sneered and walked away.

"Hey! I was talking to you! Rude guy? Come back here and face me like a man!" Gerard yelled after him. The guy stopped, turned around and gave him the finger and kept walking. Angrily, he reached into his pocket, took out the gun and aimed it at the guy. He squeezed the trigger and the bullet went straight through his back and out the other side. Blood spurted onto witnesses nearby, and as people were hysterically screaming and calling for help, Gerard made his escape.

He kept running until he reached an alleyway. He stopped, expecting to be panting for breath then he realized.

"I'm dead. I don't need to breathe..." he thought for another moment, "Or food... or sleep..."

He smiled to himself as he thought of the man he'd just killed. "I hope he was evil..."

When he saw the splatter of the blood from the chest wound he felt a strange feeling inside of him. It went straight to his bones, like when he used to touch Helena, but this feeling was stronger and lasted longer. All of a sudden he became weak, and had to sit down. As he sat on the cold, stony floor he started reliving the experience of ending that human life. He wanted to do it again. He had to do it again, he tried to get up but his legs gave way underneath him.

"Shit." Suddenly, in a puff of black smoke, the devil flamboyantly appeared before him.

"Gerard, my dear boy! What have you done?! You can't just go around shooting people in public like that." He said, helping Gerard to his feet. "Why not?" Gerard grumbled.

"Too many people have seen you. Look, I'm going to have to send you to another place in America to kill those people without anyone seeing you."

"Fine."

"Also, that guy you just killed doesn't count. He was an asshole, but he wasn't evil; and now you've killed someone, you have a taste for more, am I right?"

"Yeah."

"So now you have to keep killing until you reach a thousand. That way you can't run off and join the circus."

"I hate clowns."

"Good. Go kill one, oh and now you only get a knife." The devil flicked his wrist again and sent Gerard to a new place to start out.

Give 'Em Hell, Kid!

Once again, Gerard woke up on a park bench in the middle of the night but not in New York City. He noticed a huge arch and realized he must be in St. Louis. He sat up and surveyed the area.

"Anyone evil out there?" he said to himself. Someone must've heard him because they gave him a funny look and went on their way. He sat on the bench looking around for at least an hour until he noticed something.

A man in a black coat and sunglasses was carrying a baby. He sat down on a bench and propped the baby up next to him. A similarly dressed man sat down next to him. He looked around, then got up taking the man's baby with him. The first man did nothing about it, but rather took out his cell phone and dialled a number. Gerard heard him say "It's done". The guy got up and walked away like nothing had happened.

"I think I found my first victim." Gerard said under his breath. He got up and followed the man with the baby.

Being dead had it's upsides. His breath, or lack there of, was not a problem while stalking the baby-laden man. His foot steps were quick and light, He stayed at least 10 metres behind the man at all times, staying in the shadows of the buildings.

The street lights were much comfort to Viktor as he carried the baby to his bosses' headquarters.

For 5 and a half years he had been doing jobs like this for a guy whose face he'd never seen. He was good at what he did and he enjoyed doing it. He was a messenger, but also acted as a 'repo man' when the people that Boss leant money to were somewhat late in their repayments. First he would take the thumbs, then the fore fingers..

Viktor continued to walk down the street until he turned off at an alley. The baby began to cry, which gave Gerard the perfect opportunity to strike. As quick as a leopard, as quiet as a mouse and as deadly as a viper he leapt on the man, pinning him to the ground. The baby went flying, but Gerard didn't even notice. He was completely focussed on slicing the throat of the anonymous man he'd seen at the park. He inched the knife closer to Viktor's neck, as Viktor struggled to keep it away. Looking up, Viktor saw the face of a man, who looked quite dead. The look on his face told him he was determined to slit his throat and nothing would stop him. Gerard's maniacal grin scared Viktor so much he stopped fighting and the knife came down with a sickening slicing noise. Blood spurted onto Gerard's face and he loved it.

Ending the man's life gave him the best feeling on this earth. He felt a rush through him, only then did he see the baby. It lay there, motionless. Gerard rushed over to the seemingly lifeless baby. The force of the impact had killed the tiny bundle and Gerard noticed a tiny trickle of blood from the baby's head.

"Oh God." he said, "I didn't think. I just..."

"Acted?" the devil appeared before him once again. "Well, God may not answer but I will. Oh, that's another innocent you've killed isn't it."

Gerard picked the baby's corpse up and held it in his arms.

"Well, I regret to inform you that the man you just killed does not count. He was evil, but you killed an innocent being. So, that gives you a grand total of..." the devil mockingly pretended to count his fingers.

"Zero! Well, do keep trying." Once again, the devil disappeared, leaving Gerard an angry, crying mess.

It seemed that killing evil men, or assholes, didn't affect him, but he felt the death of that baby was his fault and it crushed him.

To The End

Ally Watkins went down the steps to the Paradise Motel briskly with a man who was certainly not her husband. She looked around before kissing him goodbye as he entered the pool cleaners' quarters. The door closed, she looked around again before returning to the motel lobby and eventually up to her room. She waited in his room for half an hour watching 'Out Of Control Teens' Jerry Springer before her newlywed husband came in the door.

"Been busy?" he asked her.

"No, not really. Did you enjoy work?"

"No, not really." he laughed. Jeff sat on the couch next to his wife as they both sat in silence. Jeff felt something was wrong.

"Ally is there something you want to tell me?" he asked her, curious as to why she was so jumpy.

"No, there's nothing. Why would you think there is something?" she fussed with a pillow.

"You seem tense..."

"Well, I'm not. I just supervised the pool cleaners for a while then I had to fire the clerk and that's it."

Some of which was true. She had supervised the pool cleaners, but she fired the clerk because he had seen her with Fernando, the Italian pool cleaner. A cliche', but the tragic truth. But that wasn't all Ally had done. She was an attractive blonde and could have any man she wanted. That day she wanted Fernando, the day before that it was Pete, and for the past 6 weeks she had been seeing a wealthy freemason.

See, Ally and Jeff didn't live in the motel, they owned it. Jeff wasn't as innocent as you might think. He loved the suffering of others and despised the patrons that occupied his motel because they didn't have a lot of money. They were a perfect fit for each other.

"Ally..." then Jeff smelled the scent of male cologne. He noticed a staff labelled 'Fernando'.

"Who does this belong to?"

"Umm..."

"Ally, I want the truth. Have you been cheating on me?!"

"I-"

"YOU BITCH!"

Jeff tipped the coffee table over. With a mighty thud he kicked the TV over and stepped through the screen. Sparks flew and Ally screamed. He opened the door and stormed out, slamming it hard behind him. He went down the stairs frighteningly fast. He passed a waiter on the way down and without thinking, pushed him down the flight of stairs. He stepped over his motionless body and continued down the stairs. He entered the lobby, and a cleaner greeted him. "Good afternoon, Mr. Watkins!" the woman said perkily. He punched her hard in the face and continued towards the pool cleaners' quarters.

"FERNANDO! YOU FAGGOTT! GET YOUR SPANISH ASS OUT HERE!" A tall Italian man stepped our of the room

"I am Italian, Mr. Watkins."

"I DON'T CARE! YOU FUCKED MY WIFE!" Fernando said nothing, he just looked down at the ground.

"So tell me Fernando, did she scream? How many more of your friends did she screw?"

Still, Fernando said nothing.

"This will NEVER happen again."

"No sir, never again." Fernando looked up at the gun pointed at his face. "That's right. Never again."

Without hesitating he pulled the trigger and shot Fernando between the eyes. A few pool cleaners tried to pry the gun from Jeff's iron grip, he shook them off. The one named Peter fell to the ground on his stomach. Jeff smelled the cologne that he had noticed in his living room. He pointed the gun at Peter and delivered to shots to the back of the head. He pointed the gun individually at each cleaner after that. He had gone mad and no one could stop him.

3 down...

4 down...

7, 8, 9...

When he had finished he tossed them all into the pool. Ally watched from her room, tears streaming down her face. She got up and went into the kitchen, from under the sink she pulled a bottle of Cyanide and poured it down her throat. She twitched and convulsed and finally lay dead on the kitchen floor, bottle still firmly clutched in her hands.

Gerard watched all this, amused at the lengths people would go to for love. He got up from his position in the bushes, knife in hand and a smirk on his face. Jeff turned around and saw the dead man walking towards him, a knife firmly placed in his cold dead hand. He pointed the gun at Gerard and fired it at his stomach. It hurt, but not enough to stop him. A bullet wound now felt like no more than a bee sting and he continued towards Jeff. His smile widened as he stuck the knife into Jeff's gut and sliced his throat just like he had done Viktor. He followed Jeff's lead and threw him in the pool. Eleven dead bodies face down and bloated in the Paradise Motel pool.

Does that count as one soul or 11? Gerard wondered inside his mind.

"It counts as one." the devil had once again appeared before him. "You only killed one evil man. Unfortunately, that one, that one and Peter over there were also evil so if you'd killed them you'd have four. Better luck next time!" "I hate you..." Gerard scowled at the arrogant devil.

"Doesn't everyone?" the devil disappeared and Gerard went to the bathroom to clean himself off.

You know what they do to guys like us in prison?

Gerard thought a lot about where he could find his next victims. He spent his days in solitude, in the dark fingering his bloodied knife. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't wipe the blood from the sharp blade. What was once a beautiful instrument was now just a dirty knife in a box full of sharp objects.

He heard a police siren coming down the street and from the abandoned building he was using as a hideout he saw the flashing red and blue lights zooming along the street.

A prison. There had to be a lot of evil men in a jail! He got up from his reclusive corner and pulled the hood up on his jacket, which he had stolen from an evil man he'd killed a few nights earlier. The rain didn't bother him as he stepped out onto the lonesome night time streets. He headed to the jail armed with only his knife and his stealth.

Gerard had become an expert it seemed in sneaking around undetected. It was almost poetic the way he could get within a few feet of the person, able to touch them and have them not know he was there.

He reached the prison gates and looked through the bars. A guard was patrolling around the perimeter with a pistol. He probably wasn't expect someone to be breaking INTO the jail. Gerard hid behind a bush and when the guard walked past he pounced on him, knocking him out and taking his keys.

Bert "Queenie" McCracken paced his jail cell. His nickname wasn't one he had chosen, but it had stuck after an unfortunate shower incident. Bob "The Scalpel" Bryar watched him from his bunk. Both convicted murderers, they had been unwillingly paired by the Warden.

"Sit down." Bob sighed.

Bert replied by sticking up his middle finger.

"I've been here for a month and I'm already sick of you." Bob continued. "Makes me wonder whether killing my ex-wife and her boyfriend was worth it..."

Bert raised an eyebrow.

"Who am I kidding, of course it was worth it. You should've seen their faces when I pulled that scalpel on 'em!" Hence Scalpel's nickname. He had been lucky enough to be given a really cool nickname, unlike poor Bert. Herein lay some resentment towards Bob.

The next cell over, a known drug lord and his key smuggler were playing poker.

"Three kings." Al Wilkinson, the drug lord said, laying down his hand. Frankie Iero, the drug smuggler, looked at his hand and noticed he had 2 kings himself. He raised an eyebrow before sighing and folding his hand. He knew he couldn't call his boss for cheating. It would result in a swift beating and a bloodied nose. Al was a large man, and Frankie, being only about 5 foot 8, was no match for him.

In the maximum security wing, Ray Toro sat, handcuffed, on his bunk. He had to be handcuffed at all times., as he had massacred 20 people on a subway early in June last year. He was clinically insane but somehow managed to escape on three separate occasions. Rocking back and forth he recited lines from a song he had created in his sick and twisted mind.

"And if you stay, all I'm asking for is 1000 bodies piled up
I never thought it would be enough..."

He spoke softly, and the security guard assigned to watch him from 10pm until 2am started to feel a bit creeped out. He shifted uncomfortably.

Gerard slipped past the security cameras and guards with great ease. Almost a ghost in the hallways, he peered through the bars of cellmates, wondering where to start. Why not at the beginning he decided. He crept into the cell of Bob Bryar and Bert McCracken. Feeling a weird sort of kindred spirit between him and Bert, he shrugged it off and slit his throat from ear to ear. He followed suit from the first cell to the maximum security wing.

He noticed a big, locked door right at the end of the hallway. Walking down a hall lined with the corpses of the men he'd killed didn't bother him, nor did it bother Ray Toro, who listened gleefully to the slice of the knife and the splatter of the blood.

"All I'm asking for is 1000 bodies piled up..." he sang, anticipating the arrival of this angel of death. The security guard fingered his gun nervously, feeling the presence of Gerard about to open the door. The door creaked open, the security guard caught a glimpse of the decimation in the prisoners' cells. He peered forward, smelling the spilled blood of the prisoners and seeing the bodies of Frankie Iero, Bob Bryar and all the inmates he had grown accustom to as each day passed. He felt sick. Too sick to notice the black figure about to pounce on him. Gerard knocked the guard unconscious and turned his head to look at the prisoner rocking back and forth on the bed.

Ray clapped, despite his handcuffs. He looked up at the man, blood stained his clothes with a dirty knife at his side. His hair was strewn across his face, hiding his hazel-green eyes that had once had a peaceful look, now looked menacing and ready to kill. He approached the cell door, taking the keys out of his pocket. Ray started clapping faster, anticipating the creak of the cell door he knew so well.

Creeeaak...

Ray giggled excitedly as Gerard raised the knife above his head. Just before he brought down the knife Ray whispered, "1000 bodies piled up..." and Gerard killed him.

The next day, Gerard walked past a news stand. The front page read: "Prison massacre". There was a picture of a ghostly figure taken from a security camera. He could just make out the silhouette of his face. It was too close to stay in St. Louis. He had to move on. It was time to go home.

I'm Not OK (I Promise)

Gerard hopped on a train to New Jersey. He fell asleep on the seat and when he woke up, the devil was sitting across from him, reading the newspaper with Gerard on the front.

"Not thinking of going home, are you?" he asked, putting the newspaper down.

"Actually yes."

Gerard folded his arms across his chest. His handsome yet ghostly face was determined.

"Well I'm afraid I can't let you do that."

Flicking his wrist, he sent Gerard to Miami, Florida.

"I hate the sun." Gerard muttered, walking down the sunlit street.

It was an odd sight to see. He was deathly pale and dressed all in black. All around him, blonde haired, tanned people rushed around, giving him strange looks as they scuttled past. This was not a dislike he had acquired after being dead. He had never really enjoyed daylight as much as he did night.

He walked past a high school oval, where a group of jocks were hassling some of the less popular kids. One was dressed all in black, reminding Gerard of himself in high school. It was bullies like them that made him so fucked up. A similarly dressed girl watched in horror as a tall blonde guy in a football jacket punched the boy dressed in black in the stomach.

"Stop!" he heard her cry.

"Shut her up, Sam." the blonde guy said.

The guy named Sam walked over to her and grabbed both her arms. Another guy helped him hold her as they pushed her down to the ground on her knees. A third joined them and unzipped his pants.

"This should shut her up "

That was enough, Gerard decided. He picked up a rock and threw it powerfully at the guy with his pants undone. It hit him extremely hard in the head. He went down like a ton of bricks. The other jocks spun around, searching for the thrower. Hiding in the bushes, Gerard picked up another rock and threw it at the blonde guy.

"What the fuck?!" another of them yelled.

They decided it was best to leave the two kids and run off to safety. The girl looked out over the bushes, puzzled. Gerard stood up from his hiding place. She helped up the boy.

"W-was that you?" she asked Gerard. He nodded.

"Thankyou." Gerard started to walk away.

"I-I'm Amy. This is Matthew." Gerard looked over at the two school kids.

"I'm Gerard." he thought for a moment, "Do you know where those guys live?"

"No, but it's on their school computer file." the girl smiled, "I bet I can get you into the system." Gerard smiled sadistically.

That night, along with Amy and Matthew, Gerard snuck into Rosemount High's office. Stealth clothing was not an issue as all three's wardrobes were completely black anyway. Being in a fairly safe neighbourhood, there were no guards and the security in all the buildings was minimal. Amy raced over to a computer on a desk at reception. She was nervous about getting caught and it showed. Matthew stood beside her, massaging her shoulders, calming her.

"Why is he here again?" Gerard motioned at Matthew.

"Emotional support." Amy and Matthew said at the same time.

They smiled at each other. Amy continued typing at the computer.

"So are you two " Gerard asked, sensing something between them.

They looked at each other, hesitantly.

"No, no no no no." They said at the same time again.

Matthew went red, as did Alyssa, the crimson tone on her skin accentuated by the glow of the computer screen. Matthew couldn't help but notice how pretty she looked in that light. He realized he was staring when he saw Gerard looking at him, a single eyebrow raised. Gerard was about to say something when Amy jumped up in excitement. "Got it!" she clicked the print button and a list of addresses came out.

She gave them to Gerard. He looked over them with a look of satisfaction on his face.

"What do you plan to do with them anyway?" Amy asked, realizing she had forgot to ask this important question before.

"Hey, are you going to sneak into their houses and kill them in their sleep?" Matthew joked.

Amy laughed until she saw the look on Gerard's face.

"Oh my God " Amy said, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Gerard, you can't "

With a swish of his coat, he turned and left. Amy and Matthew ran after him but when they got outside, there was not a trace of him to be found. Gerard took the piece of paper out of his pocket, checking the address to Sam White's house for the final time. He jumped over the gate door, avoiding the imminent creak of opening it. He scaled the side of the house, opened the window to a boys bedroom. Posters of 50 cent and Carmen Electra were hung on the walls. This had to be the right room. There was no one in the bed, though. The light was off but there was no one in the room. Then he heard the creak of the bedroom door. Sam burst in, finding an open window, blowing the curtains around in a ghostly manner.

"Hello?" he called into the seemingly empty room.

Hearing no reply he walked over to the window and closed it. Starting to freak out, he rushed back over to the door and locked it. Now he was all alone, or so he thought. From behind the bed, Gerard sprung onto Sam, covering his mouth so he couldn't scream. A few sharp jabs was all it took and Sam's spirit was sent to the devil. The next victim was Bradley Thompson. He suffered a similar fate. After that he went onto Steven Bennett, who after a chase through the gardens was put to rest. After all the boys had been eradicated, he snuck back into the darkness.

*I'll submit more soon...*