Pirelli's Prison - The Black Parade

MikeyWay=Love · 06-02-2008, 07:22 AM

Rating: 12+
This is a story following the life of Bill Banks and Frank Iero.

Oh and this is OFC/My Chem fiction
oh yes

Fuck I hate the name of this story

Disclaimer-NESS

i do not own or know any members of My Chemical Romance. I do, however, own Bill Banks, Julian Phick, George Walker and Jonathan Peatey and any other characters from my numerous novels that i have attempted. So HANDS OFF THEM

also, if there is another fan-fic about this, i haven't read it so please don't stab me.

Next, I don't think that this has bad content. It has swearing and such-ness and suicide but tis it.

finally, i was browsing in the bookshop the other day and i was reading about a book by stephen king (different seasons) and i was like "shit this is exactly the same as my fan fic!!! so just so you know, i thought up this by myself.

Description
Bill Banks spends half of his life in prison and finds that his cell mate, Frank, is one of the nicest people he's ever met, despite his lack of self confidence. However, after a bizarre turn of events, he realizes that every corner he turns leads a road of the betrayal and death of his friends.

Chapter One: Page One.
CHapter 2: Page 2
Chapter 3 page 3
Chapter 4: Page 4
Chapter 5 Page 5

MikeyWay=Love · 06-02-2008, 07:23 AM

Chapter One

Pirelli’s Hall wasn’t like other prisons. For one, the name sounded like a preschool. Secondly, there was no other prison with me in it.

My name is William Banks and I’ve spent the best part of my life in prison. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I enjoy it here, it’s just that every criminal makes a mistake and my mistake was that every time I’m let out, I continue my old lifestyle, which involves drug trafficking, robbery, con, rape, arson and murder. And when bad luck follows you, you end up falling face first into your victim’s blood, giving a complete imprint of your face structure. Then when you try to get rid of the marking with your boot, you end up creating a trail of footprints to your apartment, so the police just take a simple stroll down the road instead of starting a full fledged investigation. Yeah that was my mistake. I’m normally not that clumsy but I was pretty doped up that night.

So I was stuck here with all the other clumsy little criminals. They looked like school kids in a playground next to me. I know that sounds arrogant but it was so true. I shone out and everybody was afraid of me. They soon found out that I was a nice enough guy and if they got on my good side, I’d give them a few of the cigarettes that I found under my mattress on my first night. Prison life wasn’t that bad really.

Except for maybe the unfortunate turn of events that happened a few months ago.

My eyes shot open as they always did at 5 o’clock, an hour before everybody else woke up. I sat up yawning and stretched, noticing something from the corner of my eye. I turned my head and a note fluttered down to my lap. It was a yellow post-it note that was folded in half. On the paper was my name written in a messy scrawl. I opened the note, reading it with increasing horror.

Dear Bill.

Unlike you, I never adapted to prison life. The food is virtually inedible and have you tried the coffee? It’s awful. Also, Bob’s been giving me shifty looks. He scares me a lot.

I sniggered. The one person more intimidating than me was Bob Bryar.

So I decided. I could escape it all, get away. Surely even hell would be better than a stone cell. At least it has central heating.

I’m assuming that was a joke. It wasn’t funny.

So this is goodbye I guess.

Thanks for the cigarettes,
Jeremy.

And that was it. A stupid suicide note about how bad prison food was. What the fuck? My eyes instinctively rose to the object that rested in the corner of my eyes. Oh my fucking god. I was kind of expecting it but still.

Jeremy, my cellmate was hanging there, still swinging slightly. My hand rose to my mouth. How could this happen? I examined his face. It seemed so peaceful, like he always seemed to be in life. Oh well. Shit happens I guess.

I trudged to the front of my cell. A guard was sleeping in a chair.

“Psst George, wake up.”

No response.

“George you big sack of crap. Wake Up!”

“Whaa?”

He stirred, a cup of coffee spilling over his lap. He swore quietly and turned to me.

“You’d better have a good reason for waking me up Banks.”

“Indeed I do. It’s about Jeremy.”

“Did he hurt you? Or maybe he went all the way.”

I sighed. George looked really hopeful. It annoyed me. George and I had a binding of hatred for each other. It was all fun, but he didn’t know that when I got out of here, he’d be on the top of my hit list. Still I humoured him and replied,

“No, he’s dead.”

George’s face dropped, and then lit up.

“Did you kill him? Cause then I’ll have to tell the warden, and then you’ll be relocated to another state and then you’ll have to be executed.”

“Oh haha. No he killed himself. See for yourself.” I tossed him the note, which he read with anticipation. After a while, he raised one eyebrow and looked up at me.

“He killed himself cause of food?”

I shrugged, “He was messed up I guess.”

George nodded and kept reading.

“What’s this about cigarettes?”

Crap

“Oh. That’s just err… an inside joke.” I grinned shyly. It was a bad lie but he seemed to buy it.

“Alright then. Well at least that gives room the new arrival.”

“Huh?”

“Some guy. Killed some people. His name is Frank. You’ll have a lot in common, I think.”

Great, there would be someone else to torment. A grin spread across my face.

“I’ll be pleased to meet him.”

(Please tell me if you like this and whether or not i should continue.)

chemicalforever · 06-02-2008, 07:35 AM

Omg first comment.
But who is Bill Banks?
Like, is he a character you made up or a character from a book?
I'm assuming you made him up.
Sorry, i'm an idiot.
*claims number one fanspot*