Gerard Way Death Novels & Stories

Tomorrow night, he wouldn’t be coming back to me. Because I had just sent him straight into a trap. And when he found out, he wouldn’t love me anymore. He would want me dead. I ordered the strongest liquor they had. I wasn’t even a drinker, but I needed to drown my pain. The burn of alcohol barely registered before I passed out. ……. I woke up from a terrible dream. It felt so real, Gerrard had been shot by armed men sent by Sir Bruno. He was dying in my arms, his blood was soaking my hands.

I remember him publicly renouncing Whitehill International, announcing he’d be “making something of his own.” I’ll admit, that day… I respected him. A little. Until I saw his press release, plastered with meaningless words like “creative freedom” and “modern values.” Florence Hart stood next to him, smiling like she believed in it all. I kept my eyes on them. Always. It was part habit. Part obsession. And then, Gerald died. Before he passed, he put all his businesses, properties, and accounts in my name. Quietly. No press. No drama. Just a folded letter in my hand.

Then "you can't call it handled if there's evidence in every room, plus you kidnapped one. You left bodies in every possible room and now I just have to wonder. What do you intend to do with Elizabeth?" My name on his lips, it sounded wrong, it made my skin crawl. There was a silence in the room, just a pause before the younger voice said in a voice that sounded too soft for the next words. "I just couldn't kill her. Not the way I killed her husband's family, not the way I killed her husband either." The words made my body freeze and my brain go empty. Gerald- was dead? The staff- Maria who'd been with us for at least sixteen years, the driver? The gardener... were they all dead too? Gerald'

"Listen, please. Before we met up with you guys there was another girl. Younger this time. I tried, God help me, I tried to stop him. When I went to pull him off her, he slammed me into the wall and knocked me out. I woke up in time to help bury the girl." Gerard curled into himself as if to protect himself from the memories. He began to sob like a child as he continued to speak. "She was a mess. Almost unrecognizable. He'd raped her then beaten her to death. I buried her while he went to a nearby stream and washed her blood off him. Like it was nothing." his fist curled into balls as if he could pound Tom into nothing if he were here. "Like she was NOTHING! When he came back, he told me if

Maria Maharani stood trembling in the corner, while a man in a black Brioni pointed a gun at her. “That's...” Marcus gasped. “Impossible,” Vic shook his head. “That's...” “Gerard van der Meer,” Dufort finished. “Or at least, the man we know as Gerard.” “What do you mean?” Dufort pressed another button. The screen displayed a scan of an old passport. “The real Gerard van der Meer died in a skiing accident in the Alps in 1998. His identity was then assumed by operatives of Les Roses Noires.”

"You killed Caldwell? It was you?!" Gerard groaned. "I didn't mean to," "You expect me to believe that!" Gavriel snarled. "He was my best friend. You killed him, you psycho." "I was just out of prison okay? I wanted to be decent. I got a job driving trucks. They were the only ones who would take an ex-convict like me. But I got a bit drunk with my colleague and didn't use the hand brake." Gerard sighed and threw his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. "Poor dude died. My colleague got his head smashed. I couldn't go back to prison. So I messed with the CCTV and framed him."

Then she walked up to me, viciously grinding her foot into my wound, using my blood as ink to press down her handprint. After finishing all this, she revealed a cruel smile. "Let him go," she ordered the security guards before saying to me, "John, you know? Your look of despair was just like your mother's before she died. On the day I went to court to declare you dead, I deliberately delivered the good news to your mother. Who would have thought that she'd be so frail? She passed away due to a heart attack." Nora did not have an ounce of pity on her face, only provocation.

Subject: Garcia Crime: murder Executor: Death Judge Execution Date: May 12, 2021 — “Death Judge! It’s really the Death Judge!” Cold sweat drenched Garcia’s back. He knew very well that this was not a prank, because even the police had yet to figure out how the body disappeared. They would not know that it was him who killed the person, and the death notice clearly stated that the crime was murder. Obviously, the other party knew that he had killed the person. Only the Death Judge had the ability to do so. “F*ck! Why are you targeting me? Why are you going to judge me?!” Garcia roared. Thinking about the previous death live broadcasts, he could not help but tremble.

She took a slow sip of her coffee, her expression unreadable as she scrolled through the various headlines. “Underworld Leader Gerald Blake Perishes in Fire, Accident or Assassination?” “Mysterious Blaze Destroys Blake Estate, Ending a Legacy.” Some articles speculated that it was a rival attack. Others called it an act of karma. A few even suggested that Gerald had staged his own death. Sarah wasn’t sure which version the world would eventually settle on. All she knew was that Gerald was gone. And she felt… nothing. No triumph. No sadness. No sense of closure. She had spent so long dreaming of vengeance, of seeing him fall for the massacre that had stolen the Millers from her. And now that

I took a peek at Gerald and winced at his clenched jaw. He was not happy. I quickly looked away, feeling guilty for all of the deaths today. I tried to forget about it, but my mind wouldn't let me. .... We got back to the village, and a bunch of people were outside. As soon as they saw us, they began to clap. I stared at them in confusion. 'Oh, thank you for releasing us from the shackles of Parker Yang,' an old lady ran to Gerald. How did they find out about his death so soon?