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Fic - MCR/Killjoys - Burning Star. Chapter 4/? Rated NC-17

Title: Burning Star
Fandom: Killjoys!Verse
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: PP!Gerard/FG!Frank, PP!Gerard/Korse non con.
Summary: The Killjoys are in trouble. Korse has caught up with them, and there is no where left to run.
Warnings: Dark fic, Angst, HurtComfort, Adult themes, Torture, Violence, Swearing, Sexual Abuse in later chapters. Rape in this chapter.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Please don't sue me! This is just for pleasure!
Authors Note: Sorry again for a bit of a wait on this one. Hopefully chapter 5 will be up by the end of the week. This chapter is dark stuff, people. But there is light at the end of the tunnel...! Thanks again to ink_demon for helping me despite being so busy herself. I really apprecaite all of your efforts, hun (And am looking forward to part 3 of your own fic!!):D

Part One, Part Two, Part Three




Burning Star

Part Four


Korse could feel the excitement pulsing through him as he approached the trapped Killjoy, and smiled as Poison flinched violently. He had sent away his two remaining Dracs, not wanting them to witness what he was about to do. All for the good of BLI, naturally. This wasn't about him. He couldn't help but smirk when he saw that the rebel was watching him with wide, panicked eyes, and apparently attempting to back himself further into the wall behind him, almost as if he thought he could escape by melting into the bricks. Party was revealing his desperation to get away from Korse and the fate he had in store for him, but he clearly knew that his efforts were futile.

There was no escape.

Korse flashed him a knowing smile. He felt like a predator, preparing to devour his helpless prey - not that his prey of choice seemed ready to accept the fact that he was beaten. Korse was pleased. The more the Killjoy resisted him, the better his final inevitable defeat would taste.

"Don't you fucking touch me!" Poison snarled at him, and pulled away as Korse reached out for him. "You hear me, you asshole? I will fucking kill you if you come-"

"I don't want to listen to your voice any more, Gerard." Korse intercepted, a hand held up in warning. "You had your chance to talk to me. I have now formed the opinion that actions speak louder than words anyhow, and we may find another use for that wicked tongue of yours." His eyes blazed like fire as he regarded the younger man. "What do you think?"

Party stared back at him, trying to catch his breath. He was clearly terrified, and Korse relished every fearful look. He knew that Party understood exactly what Korse intended to do to him. The Exterminator tilted his head, considering the younger man. Of course the rebel knew, he was no fool. He had survived this long after all. But Korse could see that realisation was finally beginning to sink in: the realisation that Gerard Way - still in there somewhere, underneath all the bullshit and arrogance that he had hid behind the identity of Party Poison - was in fact helpless and out of his depth, trapped in a situation that he didn't have a snowball in hell's chance of escaping. Korse could see the panic building within the other man with every passing second, and it was beautiful to watch. The previously unflappable Killjoy, the most arrogant, pig-headed and stubborn of them all, was falling apart before his eyes, reduced to a quivering mess. Korse wished he had the chance to get television cameras in there and film this moment, sending it out live to every home in Battery City, a clear warning to all those on the planet who chose to stand against Better Living Industries.

But that was impossible, of course. Impossible because he knew what he was about to do was wrong, and illegal, in every sense of the word.

Such a shame therefore that Gerard Way was leaving him with no other choice.

Korse grinned at his prisoner, as he slowly knelt down before him. He was in no rush, he wanted to make the most of this victory. Party stared back, curious, his expression nervous. He was breathing loudly, reminding Korse of a creature trapped in the headlights. Finally, Korse knew he had waited long enough. He smirked, and then felt into his jacket pocket, pulling out the shooter once more. The cold smirk turned into a wide smile, and he gestured theatrically with the device, mocking the young man slumped on the floor next to him.

"So, shall we try level six?" He enquired, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. He laughed.

Party let out a low sigh. "Why don't you just finish this?" He asked quietly. Korse was pleased to pick up on the slight tremor in his voice. "For fuck's sake, Korse. Just end it."

Korse chuckled, giving a small shake of his head. "End it? Putting you out of your misery, you mean? Like the animal you are?" He moved closer, his lips almost touching Poison's cheek. "You actually think I'd let you off the hook that easily?"

Party closed his eyes, refusing to reply. Korse wasn't surprised. The rebel was desperately clutching at straws. The Exterminator held every card, and Poison knew it. He had no options left to him. All he could do was sit there and take whatever punishment Korse had planned. And knowing he held so much power over this rebel warmed Korse's heart.

If he'd had a heart.

"I'm sorry, Gerard." Korse taunted. "I'm not going to let you take the easy way out." He gestured towards the door. "Unlike your fellow Killjoy scum. It will be quick for them." He smiled. "I can promise you one thing though, Party Poison. You will be the one to end this once and for all, not me."

"What do you mean?" Party was confused. And he was scared. Any hint of color remaining quickly drained from his face as he digested Korse's words.

Korse chuckled. He grasped his captive's arm, holding the shooter against him, and beaming with anticipation of what was to come.

"Oh, No need for you to worry, rebel." He mocked. "You'll find out everything soon enough. Just as we will find out everything that you know from that pretty little head of yours." He tightened his grip. "I would not feel too bad about your team of misfits though. Trust me, they are the lucky ones." He snarled and released Party's arm, grabbing him by the jaw instead, forcing the Killjoy to meet his gaze. "You are the one I want to hurt, Gerard Way."

Party squirmed, and tried unsuccessfully to pull back from Korse, but the other man held on.

"It's you that is going to suffer for every moment of stress, for every headache, for every second of trouble that the word 'Killjoy' has ever caused for me and my company. Your little pals Fun Ghoul and Jet Star, even your brother, they do not concern me at all now that I have you, although their deaths will be a nice source of entertainment. You're the one I wanted, the one I spent all that time, money and effort searching for and, lucky me, it was not in vain." He struck Party hard across the face and the wretched man fell down, grunting in pain. Korse glared hatefully at him. "I've waited a long time to watch you break, my friend. You are mine." He pulled Party up again, holding him once more by his arm, and then ran his finger down his cheek, smiling evilly. "Scream for me now, baby."

As quick as a viper, he struck, injecting a third dart into Party Poison's blood stream. A few seconds passed as Party stared up at him, his eyes wide and terrified. And then, it began again. Korse, with much satisfaction, watched as Party once more writhed uncontrollably at his feet, the torturous drug flowing through his system just as before, burning him up from the inside as it went. Only this time, the agony was even more intense.

The older man looked on, enthralled, as Party Poison was consumed by his own torment. Party screamed in horror, his whole body soaking wet from sweat, and trembling all over as the drug took full hold. His red hair was slumped forward over his face, his skin as white as that of a ghost's and, to Korse's amusement, the tormented man began to claw at the floor with his fingers, trying to escape the hell he was trapped in, soon leaving bloody marks on the floor from where two of his nails had been torn right off. Korse smiled wistfully as he watched, recalling the way all the effects of the drug had been described to him. The test subjects had suffered in more horrifyingly painful ways than even the scientists had expected. They had been seized first of all by constant agonising attacks in their stomachs, and shouted out as wave after wave of pure agony gripped them. Then, their blood had begun to boil and they had cried as they had burned from the inside. Next had come the crippling head aches that had supposedly felt like non-stop hammer blows. They had screamed themselves hoarse, begged and pleaded for mercy that had not been granted. They had been rebels, or had been convicted of aiding one, and their fates had been justified. The ones that had survived had told how every muscle had felt like it was tearing, every bone had seemed to be breaking. They later described their suffering as if they had been torn apart from the inside by a crazed, rampant animal. Most of the test subjects had not lived beyond level seven, some had even gone insane and had had to be put down. Korse had taken great pleasure in witnessing the experiments, but this was a whole new level of enjoyment for Korse. To watch this smug, conceited rebel who had stood up to Korse and his company being subjected to such torture was Korse's idea of Heaven. He, and those like him, had tried to bring BLI down, attempting to ruin Korse's life in the process. He despised them.

Party Poison in particular.

This was payback. Pure and simple.

And now, he had been ordered to not only torture the Killjoy, he had also been instructed to break him completely.

His evil smile broadened.

He took hold of the younger man, knowing that due to the ordeal he was currently facing, Poison would not be able to see or hear him. The rebel had given into the darkness, lost in his own agony, completely unaware of anything but his own personal hell. This thought pleased Korse further, if he could time this just right, he could force the Killjoy to experience the ultimate humiliation – just as the drug was wearing off. Poison would emerge from one hell to immediately face another. Laughing, he grabbed at the shaking man and rolled him over onto his stomach, pinning him down beneath his heavier frame. He could sense Party's heightened panic and knew the man was having problems breathing. His enemy's fear only added to Korse's excitement and lust and he quickly pushed down his own pants. He then took no time in relieving Party of his clothing too, leaving the younger man fully exposed to the hot air. Still the rebel didn't react, or perhaps, couldn't react. He was still controlled by his suffering and despair, unknowing of what was about to happen to him. Though his screaming was less now, due, Korse supposed, to his voice being so sore and hoarse, the drug was still inside him, working its dark magic. Korse was gratified to see that Party Poison had surrendered and was now lying still beneath him, his face turned to the side, his eyes squeezed shut. He clearly had no strength left. His contorted face and tiny whimpers gave away the true extent of the agony he was still experiencing, and his body continued to shake violently. Korse was unsure how much longer the effects of the drug on him would last. It had varied depending on the subject. He could not afford to delay any longer, no matter how much he was enjoying the show.

He had work to do, after all.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small tube. He smiled coldly, and emptied the contents of the tube into his hands. He then rubbed the slippery lotion up and down the length of his cock, moaning in anticipation. When he had finished, he tossed the empty container away, and after pushing one finger in to stretch Poison, and then another, he then hurriedly lined himself up against Party Poison's tiny opening. He wasn't concerned any further about preparation, or pre-show, he wanted the other man to know that Korse was claiming him, he wanted him to remember it. Korse had no problems with any pain he might experience, pain was what he needed. It made him feel alive. With a hiss of desire, Korse pushed forward, and entered Party in one hard thrust. Korse gasped. The rebel was so tight; this wasn't just about business after all then, he would get to enjoy this, too.

He began to thrust repeatedly, being careful not to cause too much damage, not that he was in the least bit concerned about his victim's well being. Though it would be counter-productive for him to cause the other man any permanent harm. Party Poison, leader of the Killjoys, would soon be no more, and Gerard Way, the BLI operative, would be born in his place. Korse was not carrying out this assault to break the other man's body, he needed that in one piece if his plan was to succeed. No, he needed to destroy the man's very soul, and he would do that in any way he could.

This activity was not about sex. Sexual desires in any way were discouraged by the corporation. Reproduction was clearly a necessity, but sex between their customers, or should that be the world, could not be controlled or organised, and that lack of power was what truly scared the company. To touch this rebel filth in this debauched way went against all of Korse's beliefs, but he was willing to make that sacrifice on this one occasion. He needed the Killjoy broken, and he felt this was the quickest and easiest way to achieve his goal. It was simply a means to an end.

And, if he was honest, being inside the other man gave him a feeling of such intoxication, it was hard to keep himself contained. He wanted to lose control, grip the rebel hard and pound into him until he tore him apart and made him sob and beg and bleed all over the floor, but Korse was stronger-willed than that. He would not give in to his primal urges. He growled softly, as the pleasure of Party Poison's ass squeezing around his cock swept over him in waves. He knew he wouldn't be able to last much longer.

He heard the man trapped beneath him let out a low whimper, and he smirked to himself. Perfect. The drug was wearing off, and Party was coming out of his agony-ridden haze. He was awakening, into yet more misery, just as Korse had planned.

"Mine," Korse hissed. "You're mine."

His victim let out a tiny sob and Korse heard him moan, "No."

Korse laughed, and then responded by quickening his thrusts. Party shook his head, as he evidently tried to disconnect himself from what was happening.

Korse would not allow that.

"Feel that?" He whispered. "Do you feel me, Gerard?"

"Stop, please. It hurts..."

The Exterminator smiled. "So good, Killjoy. Tell me, where are your jibes now?"

Korse's ears pricked up with interest when he heard the red head whisper two more words in response:

"Frankie... help..."

The Exterminator paused, buried deep within his enemy. He was intrigued, this was quite unexpected. For the Killjoy to think of his friend in that moment... suddenly a world of possibilities had been unlocked. Korse smiled satisfactorily.

'Nice.' He mused. 'Yet more leverage to use against the Killjoy scum.'

Korse pulled out, and then slammed back into Poison, leaving his victim under no disillusion as to whom he belonged. He then tutted when he felt his victim moving, and glowered as Party even attempted to lift his head, mumbling incoherently in panic and shock. The exterminator was happy for the Killjoy to feel the full effect of the attack on him, but he would not allow the devastated man to even consider fighting back. He grabbed Party's head and forced him back down against the floorboards, giving the rebel no other option but to lay there and whimper his distress as Korse continued to take exactly what he wanted from him.

In and out. In and out. Harder. Faster. The sweat began to drip off of Korse's face as he approached his climax. It felt so good, better than he could have ever imagined, and Party's whimpering only made the act all the more perfect.

One final thrust, and then he was coming, deep within Poison, and the rebel was moaning and cringing and feeling Korse's seed as it burned his damaged insides.

Burning his very soul.

The burning star; he would not shine so brightly now.

Korse collapsed on top of Party, utterly spent, trying to catch his breath. He forced his victim down hard, smacking his head onto the ground. Korse then lifted himself off of the younger man and sat back on his haunches, watching the rebel closely. The Killjoy made no effort to move, even though he was no longer pinned, and Korse was overjoyed to see that the man was trembling violently.

Korse laughed as he leaned forward again, revelling as the other man visibly flinched repeatedly. He placed his lips against Party's ear while he also gently stroked his now sweat-soaked red hair. Smirking cruelly, he whispered softly to the young man, taking great pleasure in Party's obvious disgust and fear.

"I have to thank you, Gerard. At least now I can always say that I got to fuck a Killjoy."

Party actually sobbed.

Oh, that was music to the Exterminator's ears.

"I hope I didn't hurt you too much. That was not my intention." He glanced down at the man's still exposed backside and then forced a finger up inside of him again. Party cried out in horror, wriggling, trying to get away, but there was nowhere to go. "Not too much tearing," Korse reported, as he felt his way inside his squirming prisoner. "You'll be just fine, some discomfort but it shouldn't be too bad, not for a big brave Killjoy like yourself." He pulled his finger out again, and then grinned down at Party triumphantly. "Do you know what this makes you, Gerard? Do you know what you have become?" He paused, waiting for Party to respond, but again, no reply was forthcoming. He pursed his lips together. "You are a whore, Party Poison. Nothing more."

"Leave me alone," came the softly spoken reply.

Korse threw back his head, and laughed.

"Do you know the effort I put in to hunting you down?" He mocked him mercilessly. "Why did I bother, hmm? You haven't exactly lived up to the hype, have you?"

"Sorry to disappoint you."

The Exterminator stopped and gazed at Poison. There was a tiny flicker of the old defiance in his tone which Korse could not allow. He leaned closer. "You should be disappointed in yourself, Way." Korse hissed, as he rammed his point home. "Is this what your father meant, when he told you to run? Is this why he and your mother sacrificed themselves? So you could let them and yourself down in such a sickening way?"

"Shut up." It sounded pathetic even to Party, but he had nothing else to give. He closed his eyes, trying to block Korse out. He could still feel the bastard inside of him, so deep, contaminating each and every part of him. Party placed a shaking hand against his forehead and screwed his eyes up tight.

Everything hurt. He felt dirty, used. Party Poison knew he was fading fast, becoming that scared little boy that he had fought so hard to leave behind. But Gerard Way could only take so much and that was who he really was, wasn't it? Gerard Way wanted to give up, and go some place else. Anywhere else. Somewhere safe and warm.

He wanted to be with Frank.

No. He fought back the tears threatening to spill, opened his eyes, and glared up at his tormentor. He was still Party Poison. He had to keep fighting. He couldn't give in. He would not give Korse what he wanted.

He wouldn't.

But there was no stopping Korse. His poisonous words kept coming.

"You were somebody once," the older man purred. "You had a family, real friends, a pretty little girlfriend. You had fame and fortune. Look at what you've turned into. The shame you must be feeling. Your pride was all you had left, you lost everything else. Now that's gone too."

"You took all of that away from me," Party snapped. "You killed everyone I loved."

"Is that so?" Korse laughed. "And I thought that wasn't you any more?"

'Damn it.' Party stared at him, pure hatred in his eyes. He knew he had just given a piece of himself away. 'Fucking idiot.'

He looked away, grimacing from the pain the movement caused.

"You were a promising art student, once upon a time." Korse kept on, a smirk on his face. "So talented, so clever. Such an individualist, weren't you, Gerard? Everyone telling you how wonderful you were. You had everything going for you. You were loved by so many. They believed in you and your message. I know about your past, Gerard. You and your friends and what you tried to leave behind. I know who you all are. Or should that be, were? If you had only given yourself to the corporation, Gerard, and allowed us to utilise your talents, and your name, you could have achieved great things. Swapping one chemical for another, you could say?"

Gerard looked up sharply. He fought desperately against reacting to the hated man's taunts. Korse smirked back at him, before continuing; "Instead, you chose this. Hiding behind a fake name, following the leader, running around with your little friends, always running away from the past, never looking back because you're scared of what you will see. Sound familiar?"

"You don't have a clue," Party replied. Just stop.

Korse grinned, ignoring the interruption. "And now, you run after a pathetic loser of a man, a man who uses you for his own ends, and then abandons you at the first opportunity he gets." He suddenly gripped Party's hair, causing the Killjoy to moan in pain. "Where is he now? Your precious Doctor Death Defying? Where are any of them now? Ray? Mikey?" A knowing smile. "Frankie?"

"Staying alive," Party retorted at once. He couldn't go there. He just couldn't. When he thought about what he'd lost, that was when thinking became unbearable.

'Don't talk to me about them. Don't make me think about them. Please. Hurt me again. Rape me, torture me. Kill me if you want to. But don't make me miss them.'

"They acted how I taught them to," he muttered, outloud. "If any of us were ever captured or killed, the others keep running. They'll keep on fighting after I'm gone." He found some strength from somewhere and clung to it for dear life. And he knew what it was: his belief in the others. Defiance returned to those eyes as they fixed once again on Korse's. "Maybe they'll even come after you." Poison smiled, despite his discomfort. "You sick motherfucker."

Korse stared at him for a few seconds. His eyes were flaming and Poison cringed, ready for the blows. But they never came. Instead, Korse began to laugh, which threw Party completely. He could only gape stupidly at Korse.

"You really are full of bullshit, aren't you, Gerard Way?" He grabbed Party by his throat and dragged him up to his feet, causing the Killjoy to cry out as his ravaged body screamed in response. "You think you are so tough, sitting there with your devil-may-care attitude," Korse snarled, shaking Party as if he were a rag doll. "But it's all an act, isn't it? You are still that frightened, lost little boy who misses his momma and has to keep running because he's too scared to face his past, and the life he said goodbye to." He leered at him. "Am I right?"

Party shook his head fiercely. He couldn't respond.

"No?" Korse continued, tightening his grip until Party started choking. "Then why play this game? Why become this big damn hero that people make up stories about? Why do all of this?"

He eased his hold, and Party, coughing, was relieved to take in huge deep breaths

"Someone has to fight you bastards," he finally replied. "I do it because I want to. It's who I am. I'm Party Poison."

Korse sighed. "But it is all a lie, Gerard. 'Party Poison' is not real." The older man frowned, considering him for a beat. "There is another way. I can give you the life you crave, offer you another option. And, don't you see? That is what will happen when I take you back to Battery City with me. You can start over, get a new life. A better life. Away from those that lead you astray, and then leave you to your enemies to save their own asses."

"You're doing this for my benefit, right, Korse?"

Korse nodded. "Yes."

Party's eyes flashed. He believed in the cause too much, despite his fear, to not have his say. Whatever the consequences. He would not give in.

"Better Living is the lie," he replied, stubbornly, grimacing through the pain. "I won't let you fuck with my brain. I'll fight it. You'll never win."

Korse had heard enough. "Do you know what you are going to do?" he asked him, tightening his grip enough to bruise, his tone low and dangerous. "Once you have been scanned and reprogrammed? Do you know what your role in the company will be?" He leaned in ever closer, now right in the rebel's face. "You'll be my own little super soldier. I'll train you myself, and then, I'll send you out there." He sprayed Party with spittle, grinning devilishly. "You'll walk into the headquarters of your rebel base armed with your custom-made BLI ray gun, and you will smile for me as you blow every single man, woman and child rebel off the face of this planet;" he shook him hard; "Starting with your baby brother. His name is Mikey, isn't it?"

'Oh God. Please, no.'

'He would never... they couldn't do it.'


"I won't do it," Party stated, out loud, shaky but determined. "You can't make me."

Korse laughed. "We'll see," he purred. He kissed the Killjoy's cheek, and delighted in how Party attempted to recoil away from him. "When you are mine, I'll show you exactly what I can make you do." He raised an eyebrow. "I do wonder though, what will your brother's last words to you be? I wonder how he will react in that glorious moment when he manages to figure out that the mighty Party Poison turned into a traitor? And I wonder what kind of look he will give you, just before you blow his head off?" He tossed his head, guffawing at his own 'joke'.

Party trembled.

Mikey.

No.

Very clearly, he whispered; "Korse, go - fuck - yourself."

After a moment's disbelief, Korse threw back his head and bellowed with laughter. Then, he stared at Party, his eyes blazing. "Didn't you notice, Gerard? You're the one who got fucked tonight." He gripped the other man's hair tightly, forcing him to look at him. Party tried to pull away but he was held firm. He scrunched his face up in disgust when Korse pressed his lips to his, forcing his tongue into Party's mouth. When he broke the kiss, Party could see that Korse was smirking. "And, I can have you again, any time, any way I want. You're my plaything, you're worthless!"

And with that, he pushed Party away from him. The weakened man tripped over the pants still pooling around his ankles and fell backwards, yelling out in pain when he landed heavily on his sore backside.

Korse stalked towards him, and Party backed away. He couldn't take much more. He was aching, he could feel every injury he had suffered at Korse's hand, the drug-induced torture, the beatings, cracked rib, the ray gun burn, the searing pain from his bloodied fingers, and his ever throbbing head. And of course, the rape. He had tried to shut out what Korse had done but the reminders were always there, the pain, and the feelings that he could not shake off. The feeling that he was tainted now. Korse had taken literally everything from him. Even his body was no longer his; Korse had taken that, too. Party had never felt so tired, and he knew he was on the verge of slipping into that ever-present darkness. He was happy to welcome it, but still Korse just kept on coming, refusing to let him go.

"You are nothing," Korse snarled. "A scared, sad child pretending to be a man with a made up name."

"I'm Party Poison," the rebel hissed, like a mantra. "Leader of the Killjoys."

And then, Korse was upon him, holding him still, and forming his hand into a fist, ready to attack.

"Tell me your name again." He demanded.

Party blinked.

"Party Poison," he answered.

Korse struck him hard across the face.

"Try again." He spat. "What is your name?"

"You deaf, Korse?" Party retorted. "I just told you. It's Party Poison."

Korse then backhanded Party. When he recovered and looked straight into those reptilian eyes once again, the Killjoy couldn't help but feel the fear building within him again.

He knew what Korse wanted. And he would not give it to him.

"What is your name?"

"Party Poison."

"Wrong answer."

This time, he kicked him viciously just above his cracked rib, and Party yelled out, tears springing to his eyes.

'No more. I can't take this.'

"Lets try again," Korse snarled. "What is your name?"

Party hesitated. And then, as steady as he could manage, he answered; "My name is Party Poison."

The hated man's fist connected with his jaw, and Party felt to one side and cried out from the harsh treatment. Then, Korse once more grabbed a fistful of red hair, and pulled Party's head back.

"How much more can you take?" He snapped. "How much more of this are you willing to suffer?" He released his victim again and Party let out a sigh of relief. Korse frowned. "They betrayed you. Left you here to suffer. What do you owe them?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"One more time," Korse stated. "What is your name?"

Party paused to catch his breath. And then, he stared defiantly up at his tormentor.

"I am Party Poison, leader of the Killjoys. I don't give a shit about what you do to me. You wanna fuck me again? Go right ahead. But I fucking swear to you that some day, I am gonna get to watch you fucking die, you son of a bitch."

Korse's looked as if he was ready to explode. Again, Party prepared himself for the beating he was certain was on the way, but again, he was mistaken. Korse was merely watching him, his eyes wide and confused.

And then, he sighed.

"You are brave, Gerard Way. And you are stubborn. I'm afraid you leave me no alternative."

He pulled out the shooter and held it up for the Killjoy to see.

"Level eight, do you think?" Korse suggested.

Party's eyes widened.

'Shit.'

'Not again.'


The exterminator, a frown on his face, reached for Party's arm. Party batted his hand away.

"Wait!" He snapped. "Just stop!"

Korse titled his head. "You don't want the drug, rebel? Then just tell me your full name. It's that simple."

Party cringed. "You know my name."

The older man shook his head. "Wrong answer," he repeated, and raised the shooter again.

"Please," Party was desperate. "Don't stick any more of that shit into me. I can't..."

Korse shrugged. "Then tell me your name!"

"I can't... please!"

"You're name!"

Party hesitated again. He was shaking all over. He knew he couldn't take another dose of agony but, if he gave in, it was all over. For all of them.

"No," he whispered.

Korse gave an exasperated sigh. "As you wish," He replied, and held the shooter against Party's arm, his finger on the trigger.

"Gerard Way!" Party blurted out, when he felt the metal touch his arm. Immediately, his cheeks burned, and he averted his eyes, gazing down at the ground.

Korse paused. He stared down at his foe, feeling euphoric.

He had won.

"Say it again," he ordered. "And look at me this time."

Party grimaced. Steadying himself, he swallowed, and then gazed up at the Exterminator.

"My name is Gerard Way," he whispered, knowing he had just given in. He had let them all down.

Korse nodded. "Good boy. Now, tell me, Gerard," he asked, as he glared down at the younger man, "what of Party Poison?"

'No more fighting. So tired. It's over. Just need to rest.'

'Just let me sleep.'


Gerard's eyes were cold and lifeless, drained of emotion, as he stated the words he knew Korse wanted to hear. "Party Poison... is dead."

Korse's face broke out into a huge smile. "Well done, Gerard." He ruffled the other man's hair, enjoying how the other man recoiled away from him. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Party had no reply.

Korse stepped away from his defeated enemy, turned his back on him and pressed a button on his wrist communicator.

"Drac?" He stated.

"Yes sir?" The voice was low, gravelly.

"Is everything in order?"

"Yes, Sir, your car is ready. Plus, the towners are gathered and we are in the process of giving out the mind-altering drugs, as instructed."

"Good. The prisoner has been prepared but I would not bet against him causing me more trouble before our arrival in the city. Send a squad back in here. He will need to be restrained for the journey."

"At once, Sir."

Korse disconnected the call.

He looked back over at Gerard and saw that the man was leaning against the wall, both hands holding onto it for support. As Korse took a step towards him, he saw how the once proud Killjoy cringed. And that was when Korse saw, despite the man's best efforts to hide from him, that he had not been able to prevent the tears any longer, and they were now cascading down his cheeks. Seeing Korse's satisfied smirk, Party bowed his head in shame.

Korse could have punched the air in triumph.

Instead, he turned away from his captive, leaving him crumpled and humiliated in the corner, his lower body exposed. He heard a gasp of pain and he smiled. The rebel had discovered, to his painful cost, that he did not even have the strength to reach down and pull up his own pants. Korse turned and eyed him, and Party returned the look. Korse smiled, shook his head and looked away again, not even moving to assist him. Let him stay naked and shamed. Let him plead if he wanted help. It suited Korse. The exterminator walked on, towards where the exit had once been, gazing out at the vast and empty space beyond the blasted door. He clasped his hands behind his back, closed his eyes, and breathed in the thick, dusty air.

All was right again in the world.

Party Poison was finished. And, soon enough, the rest of the Killjoys would share his fate. At their own leader's hand.

He smiled evilly.

Job done.

The two Draculoids that had been waiting outside the building walked towards him, plus a third that had joined them. The newcomer inclined his head towards Korse, who simply gestured impatiently towards the pathetic figure huddled in the corner, trying, unsuccessfully, to shield his nakedness from their eyes. When the first Drac saw Party, he stopped. After staring at the Killjoy for a few seconds, looking him up and down, his hand tightened on his ray gun, and the Drac glanced towards Korse, as if he was waiting for instructions.

"Restrain the prisoner," Korse commanded, impatiently. "And take him to the car."

The Drac rushed to obey. He stopped dead in front of Party, gazing down upon the Killjoy with an unreadable expression, as if he was unsure whether to proceed.

"Now!" Korse barked.

The Drac gestured to Party. "Stand up," he ordered. His voice was distorted, weak.

Party looked up wearily. He met the gaze of the minion now giving him orders. He tried to obey, but his legs were so shaky, they just wouldn't support him.

"Stand!" The second Drac boomed, prodding the prisoner with its ray gun.

"I can't," Party moaned, hiding his face. "Hurts..." He cringed inwardly, ashamed of his own weakness. Just how much degradation was he supposed to take?

The second Drac reached out, grabbing hold of Party's left arm and dragging him unceremoniously to his feet. He managed to grip Party on his still very painful burn and the rebel cried out loudly.

The first Drac stepped forward, wrenching Party away from his colleague, and his painful grip. "Put your arms behind your back and cross them at the wrist," the first Drac snapped to Poison. Party did not try to resist. He complied and waited quietly as the restraining handcuffs were locked in place.

The Drac only placed a hand on his back and pushed him in the direction of the exit, he did not attempt to manhandle him, much to Party's continuous astonishment. The Drac then turned back to Korse.

"Ready, Sir."

"Good," Korse replied. "We have to leave now," he snapped impatiently, and gestured to the door. "Bring him." The second Drac gripped Party and forced him forward. Party obeyed, keeping his head bowed, and limped towards Korse.

Suddenly, they had to pause again as the first Drac had pushed aside the second, and then dropped down to his knees behind Party to pull up the young man's pants, giving him back his modesty.

Party stared at him. A caring Drac? What the fuck?

Korse looked amused. "Touching," he mocked. "Some of you Scarecrows need to toughen up." He then walked out of the building. There was an uncomfortable silence as Party and the Drac, or Scarecrow, as Korse had described him, stared at one another. Finally, it was the second Drac who spoke up. "Move."

Falling into place behind Korse, the group walked out of the gaping hole that had once been a doorway, to find that there were two more Dracs waiting outside, clearly there to escort the prisoner to the waiting transport. Other than the six of them, there was no other life about. It was all so quiet.

Too quiet. For Party, it felt like his funeral - probably because it was.

Party knew if they got him to that car, his life was over. But what could he do?

There were five of them and one of him.

He was beaten, broken. Finished.

There was no escape.

The sound of Korse's communicator bursting into life brought them all to a stop. Korse swore under his breath, but moved to answer the call.

He was greeted by the sounds of complete chaos. There was no mistaking the shouting and noisy beams from the ray guns. There was a battle being fought somewhere, and it was close-by.

"Report!" He yelled.

"Warning! We are under attack! Rebels are everywhere. We are surrounded. Send reinforcements... So many of them..."

There was the sound of ray gun blasts, screams and then – nothing.

Korse paled. He lowered his communicator and then turned to stare at Party, who had not reacted at all.

"What is happening?" Korse demanded of him. His tone was calm, but his eyes were flashing. "Why are my men under attack?"

"I don't know." Poison replied.

Korse snarled as he struck Party hard across the face. The rebel let out a weakened cry and couldn't prevent himself from falling to his knees. He had already taken far too much punishment than he could stand that day. His body simply refused to deal with anymore. He knelt there, and tried to control his breathing. Korse glared down at him. "You told me they had orders to leave here and not return."

"They did."

"Don't lie to me, Gerard. I warned you what would happen." He reached into his jacket pocket. Party instantly began to cower.

'Oh God, not again. I can't take it'.

"No," he moaned, knowing full well what was coming. "Please."

Korse paused, regarding him closely. "Please, what?"

Party hesitated. His cheeks burned.

The Dracs were standing close by, watching intently.

Except for one. One was looking in the opposite direction. Korse was too preoccupied with Party to notice.

"Well?" Korse urged him, a cruel smile on his lips.

"Please, Sir." Party answered, staring down at the rocks near his feet. He wanted the ground to swallow him up. "Please don't hurt me again."

"That's better." Korse taunted. He left the shooter where it was, turning to look instead towards the waiting car. "It seems you were wrong to doubt your friends. Shame, for you, that they are leaving it all too late." He smiled. "I had more faith in them than you did, Killjoy. I knew they would never abandon one of their own."

"Well good for you, you motherfucking piece of shit."

Silence fell. Korse froze, but didn't respond. The Drac that had spoken moved forward, stepping closer to Party.

They gazed at each other.

The Drac smiled behind his mask and tilted his head slightly. Party blinked, feeling a hint of recognition from his stance. He shook his head dumbly.

Couldn't be.

And then the Drac reverted his attention to the stunned Korse.

"What do you want, you bastard? A fucking medal?"

The Exterminator turned back round slowly. It had taken him some seconds to realise that it was not Party Poison that had dared to speak, but one of his own Dracs, and he clearly could not comprehenend that fact. "What did you say to me?"

Korse then looked on, too stunned to move, as the traitor pointed his gun straight at his own boss.

"You heard me." A smirk. "Fucker."

As Korse tried to find the words to respond to this Drac who had clearly taken leave of its senses, the minion suddenly tore off his mask, and threw it onto the ground. And then spat on it.

Korse narrowed his eyes.

Damned Killjoy scum.

The rebel who evidently had a death wish then turned to look again at Party, though he continued to cover Korse with his gun. Party was gazing back at him as if he was some kind of hallucination.

Party Poison could clearly not believe his eyes.

"Frankie..."

Ghoul trembled, trying to contain his emotions. "It's gonna be okay, Party." He whispered. "I'm here." His eyes blazed as he looked towards Korse again. "He is never going to touch you again."

Korse glared. "I'm impressed," he spat. "Very clever. I don't know how you managed this, and I don't care. Your rescue effort was pointless. Nothing will be okay, certainly not for you." He turned to the other Dracs, whom he assumed were waiting for his instructions.

"Kill this rebel!"

Korse's disbelief only grew by what happened next. Two of his Dracs opened fire – but on their comrades. The robots dropped to the ground without so much as a gasp, and the remaining two then turned and faced Korse, both covering him with their weapons.

"What the HELL are you doing?" He yelled.

The two fellow traitors were glaring daggers at him. They copied the actions of the first Drac, ripping off their masks and throwing them away, revealing themselves as the two final members of the Killjoy gang – Kobra Kid and Jet Star.

All three Killjoys moved to stand side by side, in a formation. They had been trained well. And they all also looked as mad as hell.

The younger – Kobra – was staring at Poison. He was attempting to hide his emotions as he took in his brother's shocking state, and the various injuries on show.

"Gerard?" He whispered.

Party's eyes flickered to Kobra and the younger man saw, to his despair, the emptiness and defeat in that once defiant gaze, before Party quickly looked away once more.

Kobra trembled slightly, and then turned and regarded Korse with complete hatred.

"What have you done to my brother?" He hissed.

Korse couldn't resist giving Kobra a taunting smile as he glanced sideways at Party.

"Everything," he drawled. "And more."

"Bastard." Kobra snarled, taking a step toward the smug man.

"Steady Mikey," Jet Star whispered, pulling his young friend back.

Korse looked from one man to the next. He saw that all three Killjoys were conflicted by their desire to blast him where he stood, but also to get to, and aid, their injured comrade. He knew he had one opportunity, and Korse did not hesitate. He sprang forward, grabbing Party by the scruff of his neck, holding him firmly, and then placing his ray gun against the exhausted man's head.

Two of the Killjoys went to surge forward but they were pushed to one side by the third. Korse noted this. The one known as Fun Ghoul was clearly wiser than the others. Which made him the first target.

"Stay back." Korse warned all of them. "Or I will kill him."

Kobra looked about ready to break down. "No-" He began, but Jet Star placed a warning hand on his shoulder, silencing him.

Ghoul took control. He glared at the red-faced Korse.

"Let him the fuck go, right now," he stated clearly. "First and only warning."

Korse chuckled. "I don't think so. I'm going to walk to that car over there. Try to stop me, and I will blow your precious Party Poison's brains out."

"You think that's going to happen?" Frank said softly. His voice was so low, almost pleasant, but his eyes showed his true emotions, and all the hate he felt for the man he now addressed. "You're the one outnumbered now, cocksucker. You think I'm gonna let you just walk away from here, after what you've done to my best friend?" He stepped closer. "Think again, you sick fuck. The only question here is whether you get to die quickly, or very, very slowly." He smirked. "I know which I'd prefer."

He raised his gun, but Korse was faster. He spun round, and fired a shot toward Kobra and Jet, who instinctively dived out of the way. In the confusion, Korse shoved Poison towards Ghoul, who instantly tried to catch the other man and soften his fall, but that left the dark haired Killjoy unprotected.

There was a warning shout from Jet. Still holding Party, Ghoul looked toward Korse in alarm.

The Exterminator smirked, aimed his weapon at Ghoul, and his finger tightened on the trigger.

Suddenly, an explosion blasted through the air, deafening all of them and sending each and every person, man and Drac alike, in that area flying through the air, and crashing to the ground in a muddled heap.

Korse recovered first, coughing and looking through the smoke for Fun Ghoul. The Exterminator had managed to keep hold of his ray gun. He spotted Ghoul finally, still on the ground, dazed and trying to clear his head.

And calling out for his precious Gerard.

With a snarl, Korse raised his weapon and aimed it again directly at the Killjoy he saw as the main threat. This time, he would finish him.

He was surprised to hear yet another unknown voice suddenly filling the air, shouting a warning.

"Killjoys! Get down!"

And then, all Hell broke loose.

TBC


Tags: burning star, fic, mcr
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