Vengeful Tears - A Drake Fanfiction - The Music Freaks

Chapter 2

Jake arrived back at home, hours past midnight. It had started drizzling on his way back home, and he was soaked in rain, despite it being only mild rainfall. The haunted house was in the rural areas in the outskirts of the city, by the woodlands.

Jake could feel himself catching a cold and wished desperately that it was all a prank, Drew was still here, Drew could walk by and comfort him and keep his mind off of the cold, chilling rain. Maybe Drew would have called for an escort to pick them up, and they could spend the night together.

Jake turned around, expecting to see the boy's face, but only a wisp of wind blew into his face. Once again, the thought of Drew never returning hit him like a train. He collapsed on hands and knees and choked a sob, mud dirtying his palms more than it already was. He wailed out into the night sky, a sound so painful and heart-piercing. The suffering behind it was evident, one could hear how desperately he wished for Drew to still be alive.

He forced himself to once again get back up. 'Get up you fool, get up,' he thought to himself in spite, roughly wiping tears from his eyes. He could cry later, for now he just needed to get home safely. That's what Drew would have wanted, right?

He trudged back home slowly, his whole body trembling from the cold and mental agony. It hurt him terribly, hurt him more than anything else ever had. Soon enough, his house neared into his blurred vision, the lights off and everyone asleep. No one knew that anything was wrong. They all thought that Jake and Drew had gone off for a sleepover.

Jake took his keys with shaky hands from his pockets, unlocking the back door of his house with it. The door opened silently and he entered, his shoes tracing dirt and mud and rainwater into the house. He was too tired to care anyway.

He closed the door behind him and listened for a sound, hearing if anyone had been woken up by him. The house was dead silent. He nodded to himself, feeling even more lonely than he already was. No one was there to comfort him. He was left to fight his own feelings by himself. Jake stalked up to his room, sniffing quietly as he treaded up the steps.

Being back in his room felt refreshing, but only for the reason that he could grieve in peace after cleaning himself up. He went into his bathroom and removed his shirt, cleaning the blood stains off, then stepped into the shower himself so he wouldn't sleep with the stench of corpse or mud.

As he showered, his vengeful thoughts filled his brain. Luke... Zander and Hailey really loved Luke, eh? Well, he supposed they deserved some... pain, for what they had done to him and Drew. He would get rid of Luke! Genius! And, he laughed to himself, and they would be there to watch their beloved friend and boyfriend's death. Then they could die! He shut the shower tap off as soon as he had finished and dried himself, getting on comfortable clothes and lying on his bed.

Despite his bed being so soft and comforting, he couldn't bring himself to sleep. Who would be able to sleep when some of your friends had led another one of your friends into his untimely demise? Jake got out his phone. He'd text Hailey and Zander until they woke up, and get them to fear for their lives, or Luke's life at the very least.

"I want to see Zander watch as Luke bleeds out on a hard, uncomfortable floor and touch Luke's blood. I want him to scream out to whoever he comes across to bring his Lukey back to life, and I will make sure they tell him harshly that his boyfriend is dead~!" Jake sang to himself, his voice wavering. He sounded insane, out of his mind.

He started texting and calling Hailey and Zander, and they awoke to horror.

- - - - -

<Hours ago>

Drew felt himself. He knew he existed, but he didn't know how. He had felt the piercing, painful breaths he had taken moments before he had bled out and died, so how was he still here? How was he still living? His mind felt woozy and uncomprehending. Why couldn't he feel his body? Why or how was he still alive? Where, or from whom, was that sobbing coming from?

Drew tried to take a breath to steady himself, but nothing entered his lungs. Why were his lungs not burning from the lack of oxygen? He immediately snapped himself into focus, and realised that he was staring at his own bloody, dead body, and... and Jake? A crying Jake?

"Drew... DREW, DREW NO," his friend yelled out, shaking his corpse desperately.

Confused as ever, Drew looked at what felt like his hands. They were pearly white, translucent, like ghosts from urban legends. He was... He was really dead. Drew sobbed, hearing his pitiful cry, but realising that Jake couldn't hear him. No.. no no no! He wanted to comfort Jake, tell him that he was here, that he would always be there for him.

He watched as Jake laid his head on his unmoving body, and he flew down to try and scream at Jake. Scream at him and tell him he was here, he wasn't going anywhere, he'd be with him! A laugh filled with resentment and affliction rose up into the almost silent mansion room. It escaped Jake's mouth, sounding so insane and crazy. Drew never thought that Jake was capable of laughing in such a way. He had always seen Jake has the kinder friend, the weaker friend, though he was guilty of seeing him in that way, for he was dead and not Jake. Didn't that make him the weak one? Drew started out of his thoughts suddenly as Jake's laugh rang a few decibels higher, now a cackle.

"Hailey, Zander!" Jake giggled, "I can't wait to see your graves!"

Drew's mind came to a stop.

"Graves...?" he muttered to himself.

Then he realised that Jake was planning on getting revenge. The sweetest boy of their friend group had now turned into the killer, the psychotic one, and it was because of Drew's death. Drew had to blame it on himself. He felt there was no other way.

"Jake... Don't," he tried to embrace Jake, so that he would possibly think otherwise and drop his murderous plans.

However, his ghostly form rushed through and past Jake. He couldn't let him now of his presence. Jake would go ahead and kill the two students, maybe even more, and Drew would have to watch as his best friend turned darker and more sinister.

"I'm sorry," he bowed his head, "I'm sorry to the world."