A/N: If you are a MCR fan (killjoy) and read the comic, I think you'll enjoy, or not. Have a good one.
Party Poison POV
"It's time, boys"
Said the Boss with his thick voice and that death glance he's been giving us the whole year through the training processes. I am never afraid, most of the time, but when I hear Bosses voice my body gives a kind of signal saying 'run', I always had that when I feel something was wrong or out of place, but Boss was not a bad person, at all. But he reminded me of my past.
"There's too many of them! We're not gonna make it" Yelled the girl.
I took her by her little hand and put her inside the car. She looked scared, because she knew they were coming for her…
Coming for her…
For her…
Her…
I shook my head getting the memory to stay away and just concentrate on the Boss.
The room where we were, was tiny, white and really bright which made my eyes burn. I couldn't believe he said it was time, I looked at the three guys by my side, who were always by my side, just standing there waiting for orders. We were in a way happy and totally alive again. Ghoul couldn't stop holding his smile and leaning forward and backwards as a baby. Star had that still look and focus. Kobra looked scared for some reason, he always looked scared actually, maybe because he was the youngest and felt the weight of what we were about to do.
"One year of recuperation and training for now. You four were once a group of hope for society; it's time to get that title back. You know what we've been doing this past year to get you all prepared, and yes, it's going to be a shock to the people once you get out there. But your first contact will be with her."
My spine froze.
"Man, I miss her so much" Said Ghoul "Can't wait"
"Me neither, I wonder how she looks like now" Kobra said looking at the floor.
"She is living at the old Radio Station. Take it easy, boys, and good luck."
He opened the door behind us where we found four motorcycles with their front facing the desert. That dry and hot vision consumed my mind with sorrow and happiness at same time, I missed that view. The four of us with our fast car shooting at any kind of enemy we saw coming our way. This was my past.
We turned them on, that sound of engines roaring on my ear just made my blood bump. I hopped on the motorcycle and gazed at the side-mirror. My blue leather jacket was on, my white jeans and black boots dusty, my black sleeveless ripped t-shirt and my poison red hair. Only one thing was missing. I reached out to my pocket and forgot that I had lost my yellow mask. I couldn't see my face without it, my face from the past. My dead past.