Crying won't get you sympathy

Crying won't get you sympathy

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Gerard wasn't a pervert, or mentally deranged, he just liked his victims weak. Connie was the perfect victim.


Gerard wasn't a pervert, or mentally deranged, he just liked his victims weak. Connie was the perfect victim.

Chapter1 (v.1) - Crying won't get you sympathy

Author Chapter Note

Gerard wasn't a pervert, or mentally deranged, he just liked his victims weak. Connie was the perfect victim.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: September 06, 2012

Reads: 4099

Comments: 3

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: September 06, 2012



“Sorry about my sister.” Harry muttered as soon as he let Gerard through the front door. Gerard hadn’t even met Harry’s depressive younger sister yet, but he was already apologising. “Found the house okay then?’’

“Yeah.” Gerard said, before looking through the front window to the lawn where he saw several cars. ‘’Who’s place is this again?’’

‘’Oh, a friend of my cousin, his parents were out of town so he decided to throw a bit of a gig.’’ Harry answered as Gerard moved into the front room. He realised automatically that any chick in here would be an easy one night stand. All intoxicated grinding on each other. Cans and bottles of alcohol were littered all over the floor, under girls stilettos and guys sneakers.

‘’Right,’’ Gerard said.

‘’ Well, I think you arrived a bit late I mean I think all the alcohol already been drunk.’’ Harry chuckled. ‘’You’ll find stuff scattered around, just be careful alright?’’ Gerard nodded, and followed Harry though the crowd. Reaching the kitchen Harry threw Gerard a can of beer before opening one for himself.

‘’So, where’s your sister?’’ Gerard asked.

‘’Getting wasted and stoned in the bathroom; she drove here and won’t give me her keys. It’s difficult to keep an eye on one person in this atmosphere.’’ Harry groaned slightly before drinking. The kitchen was a state, red and blue cups, bottles and pizza boxes all over the floor, but the bin was overflowing so there was nowhere else to put it.

“She sounds decent.’’ Gerard said, before Harry gave him a look.

‘’She’s not been the same since James disappeared.’’ There was an awkward silence before Elliot entered, holding a red cup in one hand and his girlfriend holding the other.

‘’Hey! Gerard you made it.” Elliot grinned before turning to Harry. “Has he met your sister yet? ’He asked before nuzzling his nose into his girlfriend’s brightly dyed red hair. Gerard felt jealously boil in his gut before taking a gulp of his beer.

“Not yet, is she still boozing?’’ Harry asked Elliot.

“No.” Elliot’s girlfriend cut in, before continuing. “I saw her; she finished her vodka, cried on my shoulder for a bit and I left her to it.”

“Sounds like her when she’s fucked off her face.’’ Harry muttered before drinking.

“You really don’t like your sister do you?” Gerard said, using a brief sarcastic tone not to hurt Harry’s feelings.

“No, I love her. But I wish she’d help herself get over James disappearance. I take her to these parties and gigs and all she does is drink all the spirits, smoke all the weed and leave at what 12. Not talking to a soul.’’

After thirty minutes of general chit chat, they dispersed from the kitchen. Gerard wandered and saw Harry making out with a girl against the conservatory door, and Elliot constantly killing and being sentimental with his girlfriend.

Gerard walked through the house looking for anyone about to pass out or otherwise vulnerable. He wasn’t a pervert, or mental deranged…he just liked his victims weak. He despised relationships, because all they did is hurt him. He hated having to listen or be the shoulder to cry on, because no one helped him or listened to him when he needed it. It wasn’t a crime to have a one night stand, and if the person wasn’t conscious, it didn’t matter. It just saved them the memories and mixed emotions.

Then Gerard saw her. His prey, victim…target. She was beautiful, long chestnut hair, heavy eye makeup…seemed to have been running, Ripped skin tight jeans, big soft Ramones jumper and flowered Doc Martens. The Jumper was oversized on her skinny frame, covering her hands fully in black material, draping her shoulders heavily, the bottom reached mid-thigh. The jumper in contrast to her jeans was such a contradiction. Confidence and insecurity—she was weak, she was wiping her eyes on the back of her shaking hand. She was scared. She wasperfect.

Gerard slid over to her trembling frame before switching on his charm. “Hunnie, are you okay?” he whispered, oozing love in his voice.

The girl looked up before stepping back slightly; staring at Gerard with wide hazel, bloodshot eyes. Gerard noticed how dilated her pupils were, and how perfectly shaped her pale pink lips were parted in a gasp. “Um…” her voice quaked before she bit down on her lower lip looking down in fear and confusion.

“Are you Harry’s sister?’’ Gerard asked, watching her intently, using his three possible senses sight, smell and hearing. He smelt marijuana and vodka on her clothes and breath, since her breathing heightened he realised how scared she is, and by her body language he realised how easy this target will be.

She nodded before looking up “I’m Connie, how did you know that?”

“I’m Gerard, Harry’s best friend.” Gerard lied through his teeth, before smiling a fake friendly smile. “He talks about you all the time.” Connie lifted her hand before moving more hair onto her face, blocking her eyes.

“I know he says bad things.” She sighed, before walking away; Gerard let her it was all part of the plan.

After a short while, Gerard found Harry again. “Sup?” Harry said, with his hand around the waist of another girl than he did earlier.

“Oh nothing much; what car is your sister driving?” Gerard asked.

“Why?” Harrys face twisted in confusion.

“I’m going out for some air, I need to know what cars to avoid.’’ Gerard raised his eyebrows before laughing with Harry.

“It’s a dark blue VW golf. She won’t leave till I do though, so I think you’re safe.” He chuckled.

“Actually I think I’m going to leave for the night….I’m tired.” Gerard mumbled, rolling his head on his neck.

“Oh.” Harry groaned before continuing. “I’ll see you later then man; sorry you didn’t see any girls you liked.” Harry had caught Gerard with countless girls, just so he’d never begin to suspect that the women found beaten after parties they’d attended together had anything to do with him.

So Gerard left, while walking around the parked cars he lit a cigarette taking puffs while he searched in the dark for Connie’s car. Wandering down the quiet suburban street, he found the Blue VW parked on the curb, unlocked. Gerard rolled his eyes before muttering “Stupid girl.” Opening the door to the back seat, he lay on the carpeted floor in the shadows, waiting.

Gerard waited about forty minutes for his victim to get into the car. Gerard could hear his heart beat echo in his ears, giving him that fulfilling rush of adrenalin. He loved it, the tension as the door slammed shut, watching his prey’s every move from the shadows. The tingling sensation drenched his skin and she spoke “Fucking Harry, stupid cunt making me go places that are meant to make me happy. I only bring everyone down.” Her complaining continued as she started the car and began to drive.

Time to go into action mode, Gerard thought to himself as he waited for her to turn a few corners, before rolling silently onto the back seat from where he’d hid on the floor. His nerves were building but they were overcome by excitement, and adrenaline. What if he got caught? Or she passed out at the wheel? Or got pull over by cops?

Gerard made it to the backseat where he lay for a few short minutes before it was time. A shudder ran down his spine in anticipation.

Breaking at the stoplight, Connie forgot to change gear, stalling the car…giving Gerard queue to start his act.

“What the fuck…” Gerard slurred from a fake slumber, loud enough for Connie to hear. He heard her breath catch in her throat before stiffening her body. Oh how Gerard loved the fear that began to infect the air. Poor Connie; too afraid to even turn around and see who was in the backseat of her car.

Gerard stifled his gurgle of delight as he slowly sat up, holding his head, pretending to be drunk

“Where…what?” Gerard groaned “This isn’t my car!” he continued, and wailed. He watched as Connie relaxed, before turning around seeing the mysterious man she met at the party.

“Um, why the fuck are you in my car?” She demanded while restarting the car and driving on.

“This is your car?” Gerard asked, in mock drunken confusion.

“Of course this is my car.” Connie snapped. “And what the fuck are you doing in it?!” she exclaimed, violently changing gear.

“I went to go to sleep, I thought this was my car…Can you drive me home?” Gerard asked, running his hand through his dyed black hair, sighing deeply.

“Fine, I don’t want you walking in the dark drunk.” She sighed.

“You’re the one who’s fucked right now.” Gerard slurred. “They all moan about it.”

“I’m not fucked…well maybe a little.” She reasoned before looking at Gerard in the rear view mirror.

“I don’t see that there problem is with you, I think you’re pretty cool.” Gerard breathed. “I live that way.” He continued pointing her in the right direction. “I really appreciate you bringing me home.” Gerard said, before giggling drunkenly. “You’re really nice, and really pretty. I don’t get why they don’t like you.” Gerard watched Connie’s breathe catch in her throat, before watching pain flicker on her face. Gerard immediately wanted to see more, but he couldn’t yet. Just a few more blocks.

“Where do you live?” Connie asked, changing the subject.

“Oh, like 2 miles out of town, I thought I got into a taxi…but I fell asleep.”

Gerard continued to point directions for about ten minutes, before reaching a small two story house with a drive way and a tiny front garden.

Gerard sighed, before attempting to get up from the car, but tripping on the curb. Seeing this, Connie automatically went to help, putting her arm around Gerard’s upper body guiding him to the porch.

“Want me to help you inside?” she asked quietly as Gerard fumbled uselessly with his keys.

“I don’t feel so good…” Letting go of her, he turned shoving two fingers down his throat forcing himself to throw up. Of course all Connie saw was the vomit, and she groaned before picking up his keys.

“Come on…” She replaced her arm around him again, before letting him into his own home. Gently she guided him up the stairs, as Gerard stumbled drunkenly leaning against the wall once he reached the top of the stairs. “Come on, only a few more steps…” She reassured in a motherly way, rubbing his back walking into his bedroom.

“Ugh, I never want to drink again.” Gerard wailed. As Connie stared at his spotless bedroom, band posters coated the walls and there were two guitars, electric and acoustic, propped against his wardrobe.

“You’ll be fine, I promise.” She whispered, like she was used to dealing with drunks. “Just lay on your side, so if you throw up you won’t die.” She touched the wood of the wardrobe for luck.

“Okay.” Gerard mumbled, standing at the edge of his double bed. He struggled to hold back the malicious smirk that was rising on his face. His blood boiled in his veins with pure bliss and anticipation; he loved this part. “Connie?” He said, sleepily still slurring.

“Hm?” Connie chirped, rubbing Gerard’s shoulder, before turning to leave. Before she knew it, Gerard’s fist crashed to her temple causing her vision to blur. Throwing up her arm to protect her face, Gerard caught it, he was faster. Trained and planned. Throwing a hard punch into her stomach, she sank to her knees retching before blood dropped from her mouth.

Gerard’s grin plastered his face, as he watched his victim. Slowly she came to her senses and attempted escape, sprinting to the bed. Gerard knew this move like the back of his hand, he anticipated it. As soon as she was on the bed, he pounced decking her beautiful face several times before her cries died down. She was now tired, from the thrashing to get away from his blows. He slapped her, and punched her, scratched her, caused any pain her could. He wanted to inflict the pain to feel the joy and knowing the he was responsible for every sad, hurt and chocked sound Connie made.

“Stop!” She chocked, coving her face, sobbing like the coward she was. “Please…” she whispered, her voice broke half way through. Her body trembled under Gerard’s hips.

Gerard clenched her skinny wrists in his hands, in a bone crushing hold pinning them against the pillows. He watched as she squirmed and whimpered in despair, fresh tears formed as Gerard, unknowingly, rubbed the cotton of her jumper against her slitted wrists.

“Stop,” Connie begged in desperation. “I’ll give you anything, my bags in the car, take anything you want,” she gasped, before sobbing…squirming once more realising it’s useless. She was crying and it was beautiful art before Gerard’s awaiting eyes. “Please…don’t hurt me.” She was pathetic, and easier target than he originally thought.

Gerard knew the fight wasn’t over, it always comes back. When they realized he wasn’t after their money.“

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