CAMERON MONAGHAN IMAGINES

Wreak Havoc. (Jerome)

Imagine- Jerome has just finished his 'reborn' broadcast

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When your screen goes static, the air becomes stiff.

Was that really Jerome? Jerome. The names sounds displaced, even distant in your mind. After a rough mourning, you'd tried to cover all evidence of his existence. No images of his bright hair or dairy skin had flashed in your head in months. Yet, the couch is molded to your body and empty bags of potato chips lay at your feet.

You finally gasp for air, gripping the baggy, stained fabric draped on your chest. Breathing in and out; there doesn't seem to be enough oxygen in your apartment.

Is reality so devious as to change the rules of death? Death is the only thing in the universe that is final. You're left to believe your eyes are the master of deception. Any form of sanity you had is whirling rapidly around a drain.

The paper-like walls prove no sound barrier as the shrieks and inaudible whimpering of neighbors travel in your travel. Yep, it's all real.

Insignificant memories you'd buried prick you relentlessly. His bright face when you served him waffles in the morning. The time he cupped your face between his hands, his eyes were vibrant, showing care for the first time since you'd met. A beanie covered, sunglass wearing Jerome entangled his fingers with yours to fit in with the public on the way to lighting a school on fire.

The rising of your stomach forces you from the couch. As you try to dart to the bathroom, an unfamiliar object hits your feet and you tumble to the floor. Until now, you hadn't realized you'd been in total darkness. Shuffling to your feet, you push on, stumbling into the bathroom. With the first heave, all the contents of your stomach are emptied into the dirty porcelain. Now you're even further out of breath. Usually vomiting was torturous to you, but today, puking is far from relevant.

You slouch back on the wall, resting your head in your hands. Your only desire to escape this blur is to sleep or knock yourself out. Possibly drugs, or maybe staring at the ceiling until you starve to death.

The boom of two bullets on the other side of the wall cause you to spring to your feet, with a sharp intake of air.

Jerome did say there were no rules. You are now an easy target for criminals. Months ago, you'd approach a threatening situation, combating it, unafraid of your demise. Mostly because Jerome made you feel invincible. The craving for intensity fled with Jerome's death. The fearless side of you is long dormant-or even extinct.

The only sound in the hallway are steady footsteps. Whoever this person is has an agenda and you don't want to be a part of it. You pad the walls, creeping from the bathroom, into your bedroom. Now's the time to think quick. There's a big enough cupboard which holds up the TV in your room. It used to hold Jerome's shoes, but you donated everything not blood stained to goodwill.

You crawl inside, balling yourself up before carefully shutting it.

Your front door creaks open with ease. That's weird, you locked your door.

Heel-toe, heal-toe, heal-toe. The steps advance diligently in your direction. With every step, your throat is tighter. This could be it. Hopefully whoever this is just wants money or items. Your flight instinct is telling you to give everything you own in order to stay alive.

The steps stop before reaching the bedroom. In the hallway before the bedroom, there are a set of broken picture frames still hung on the wall. You'd drunkenly burned and tore Jerome's face out of them in hopes of forgetting him all together.

The intruder throws out a raspy groan.

The sound sends shivers down your spine. You close your eyes in hopes for more darkness than you already have. Something needs to take you away from this hellhole. How did the night of watching cartoons take this dramatic twist?

He carries himself in your room. You hold your breath, pinching your eyes shut.

The fabric of his pants shift while it sounds like his knees crack. He's squatting right outside the cupboard.

Your teeth are compressed so hard, your jaw cramps. This is it. Your flight instinct is gone and you expect nothing, but imminent death. You wish you could live longer to one day fill Jerome's shoes, but now is your time.

The man softly giggles and you swear you could feel time stop.

"I can hear your heart beating, babygirl."

That's the voice you've merely heard in your nightmares. You can't think of any way to react, so you're locked in your current timid position.

"I know my face isn't what it used to be, but don't hide from me." His voice is far different now. It feels further pressed with vengeance.

He swings the cupboard open to reveal his less than desired face you'd seen on TV.

"Wow. And I thought I was the one who was supposed to look dead." Jerome snickers, making music to your ears. Usually, this would be an insult, but he's right. You haven't washed your makeup off in days and you can't even remember when you'd tied up your bun.

Mouth agape and unsteady breath, you need to see if you're hallucinating. You extend your arm to his enthusiastic face. Tracing your finger down the inside of the staples on his cheek, Jerome keeps his eyes firm on you. His skin is wrinkled from being stretched back, but that's a fair trade for being dead for over a year.

"You're actually..." The rest of the words trail off into your head.

"Not dead! And I'm ready to make everyone know my name." He waves his arm, gesturing to 'everyone'. "But I can't do that without knowing my partner is safe."

Jerome holds out his hand to give you assistance out of the crawlspace. You grab it, igniting every passionate feeling that escaped you long ago. Something about his contact always shocked you with life. Yet this, one year after his death, was the most alive you've ever felt. He gently pulls you up along with himself and you're left standing eye to eye.

"So," Jerome grips your waist, yanking your lower half into him. His grin stretches further than it used to, causing your whole body to pulsate. "You ready to wreak havoc?" 

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WHATS HAPPENIN MY JEROMEES! He's baaaaack. And so am i! I hope this was an okay kickstarter for being gone for like 9 months. 

Planning on posting regularly again :) taking requests in comments or messages. 

Love you guys! 

-Bambi ;)