Marilyn. Call me Marilyn, although names are irrelevant.
Marilyn sat outside Werewater Psychiatric Institute, awaiting a supernova. He could hear the screams of the people inside, the people he knew. He'd escaped, and if that didn't terrified the staff enough, there was a fire rapidly spreading throughout the hospital.
Marilyn Manson, as he called himself, refused to go by his real name. He was a nobody. Pushed and shunted because he didn't fit the specifications of society, but he somewhat enjoyed this. It allowed him to fall into stereotypes of a madman, waving of crimes to the voices in his head. He enjoyed it a lot. Hearing people scream because of him, the pain he was inflicting on them, made him feel like the most powerful man in the world. Not that that's what he's after, he just wanted to make people suffer. Like he had done.
He enjoyed destroying things, finding beauty in everything chaotic and frowned upon. He sat on the side of a stone water fountain, just outside the tall black metal gates separating himself from the rest of tortured souls that he had spent the past ten years with.
There had been various times he had tried to escape, wanting cause pain and misery to fall upon those around him. But tonight, tonight he had succeeded. Marilyn had made sure the phone lines had been cut, and severed any contact the building had with the outside world.
The huge house was on a island that was at least 30 miles away from the main country. He watched the house burning, flames starting to lick the outside structures. His pupils grew larger, watching shapes in the flickering amber light.
"Marilyn.. What have you become?" He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the soft whisper of his past love. She'd died eleven years ago, in a fire set by her father. He had heard her screams even though he wasn't with her that night, seen the fire engulf her in a morbid nightmare.
He'd murdered her father, tied him to a chair in a field and built a bonfire around him. The man had been conscious for the whole act, and even though he'd been gagged his cries were still audible. His loves mother and baby brother had died in the same fire as her, his man deserved the same painful death.
"Lucinda.." Marilyn had to hold back a tears as he breathed out into the night air, warmed by the blaze in front of him.
Lucinda giggled loudly as I wrapped her into my arms and pulled her down onto the soft green glass below our feet. "I love you.." I whispered into her hair, my eyes closed.
"I love you too, Brain" Her voice was soft and I could hear the smile in her words.
Memories flooded the tall man as he raised from his seat at the fountain and began walking towards the towering iron gates. Lucinda had been the last person to call him Brian, whenever anyone else tried to call him by his real name he heard her sweet voice, quickly tainted my her screams and refused to hear the name ever again.
The cries from the people inside the hospital had been silenced by his thoughts.
"Marilyn, my love.." She was calling to him, and he stepped through the gates.
"Lucinda, will you marry me?" I spoke to my mirror. The night before, I'd had nightmares about my love being contained by a fire from the pits of hell. I awoke in a cold sweat, Lucinda's name formed a silent scream in the back of my throat. I realised how much I needed and loved her, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.
Before leaving his apartment, the news came onto the radio he had been listening to that morning; A young lady, a child and an older woman had died in a fire. The news man reeled of the address and stated which roads would be closed on the traffic report.
"Lucie, I will be you.." He walked towards the doors, which were now covered by the catastrophic heat from the fire, "Forever." He saw his beloved Lucinda appear by his side, and they entwined their fingers walking up to the doors together.
"I do." She looked into his eyes, a wide smile plastered across her perfect lips. And turned pulling Marilyn by his hand, just like he had done the day he pulled her to the ground, through the doors and into a fiery bliss.
Suicide is painless when you're heart is murdered.