Bullets of Revenge – Introduction – “Romance”

I was stranded out in the desert one night.  For some reason, I was just out in the road, without any idea why.  I was probably drunk.  I can’t remember that much.  Anyway, I stumbled across the desert road, and I saw a parked car.  No.  The car wasn’t parked.  It had crashed into a shrub.  A quiet noise flowed from the car.  Not quite sure of the dangers that could be inside (or rather, I was too drunk to care), I slowly approached the car.  The echo of guitar notes crackled through the radio.  It sounded like “Spanish Romance”.  Only it seemed the radio was broken, since it kept playing over and over (it was probably broken from the car accident).  I looked into the window.  The image that I saw scared me and haunts me to this day.

It was an awkward sight.  I saw two dead people in the front seat of the car.  A man was in the driver’s seat, with blood trickling from the knife in his chest.  He was really filthy, with a mixture of dirt and blood all over his body.  The man looked probably in his late twenties, with long, dark hair.  Through the blood and mud, his skin was very pale.  In the passenger seat was a woman, who was also dead.  She looked about the same age as her partner.  The girl also had dark hair, and she seemed to be wearing some sort of formal dress.  She had pale skin, as if she were dead.  I later found out she really had been dead for months before she wound up in the car.  She too, was covered in dirt.  In the back seat, I saw many masks of different personalities, beer bottles, and a handgun.  Terrified, I ran.  I ran as far as I could.  But in the back of my head, I kept a mental note of where the car was.  The haunting notes of “Spanish Romance” were still playing over as I ran.

A few days later, the car of the dead bodies was found out by the police.  Word of the dead passengers spread quickly through the town.  A lot of the townspeople were shocked to hear about it.  Some of them had known the dead man very well.  When I came to the diner one morning, I asked my waiter about him.  In fact, she knew him well, and they used to be good friends.  She told me that he had come to her, all mangled and drunk.  He was supposedly in a desperate state, and was going suicidal.  She told me that she tried her best to help him out, but there was no luck.  Instead, he revealed his story behind his insanity.  It was a strange story.  After all, this was a strange town.

This is not my story about me and my discovery of the car.  This is the story about the dead couple, their experiences together, and most importantly, the man who was the 1000th victim to his mass murder.  This is a story of love, revenge, and death.  This is the tale of a chemical romance.

And so, with Romance being its end, Romance was also its beginning.