Category Linkin Park

Chester's Song (His Pain) by Alerion

1. BareNaked

Hey,all! Hoping you's guys are well. <3 I have a new idea for a story (Actually a couple of new ideas) and I would like to share it with you guys, 'cause y'all are amazing. I'm trying to work on my writing skills and I'm so glad I've joined the Linkin Park fandom because you LP Soldiers are the best at fanfiction! :D

So, here it goes. :)


April 1999

“Damn it,” Mike muttered as he sat in his white 1987 Acura Legend. He had been sitting there for about 20 minutes trying to get the damn thing to start. He couldn’t take it anymore. He hated this stupid car. Fresh out of college, he had no money to even think about fixing it or getting anything new. His band was going nowhere and the strain of trying to achieve fame was quickly putting a strain on his friendship with his band mates. He had financial support from his artwork, selling a painting here and there, and some from his parents, but pretty soon he would end up a cashier at Wal-Mart.

He would seriously need to sit down and do some painting. Yeah, that would calm him down. That, along with a fat spliff.

After about 5 more minutes of turning the key in the ignition, La Carcacha finally gagged to life.

He drove along the Sunset Strip, on his way to pick up his girlfriend, Anna, who had just moved in with him. It was close to 11:00. He was supposed to get her from the UCLA campus, where she was a student teacher teaching Writing & Rhetoric I and II, at 10:15.

In his side view mirror, he caught a view of himself and frowned. He had dark circles forming under his eyes. No sleep. Always rehearsing with a band that won’t take off. And he was tired of this color in his hair. Time to spice it up….Perhaps red dyed highlights? Nah, go big or go home. Dye the whole thing red…Yeah…

Mike was yanked from his thoughts as his eyes picked up a scene happening in his mirror. He jerked his head around to look in the opposite direction. A tall, lanky shadowy, figure was standing over a dark heap on the ground.

Almost as if in slow motion, the figure, obviously a man, propelled his boot clad foot into the heap, presumably a person. He continued doing this, administering kick after kick and the heap shifted and seemed to become smaller. Mike pulled over and the car came to a complete halt.

“Stop that!” Mike shouted, running towards the assailant. “Get away! Stop it!”

The tall man, upon seeing Mike gunning for him, took off running away, leaving his victim whimpering and quivering on the cold concrete. Mike slowly approached and knelt down next to the person.

It was…a boy?

Mike couldn’t see his face properly because the boy still had his arms over his face and head and was curled into fetal position, presumably to protect himself from the blows.

Mike gingerly placed his hand on the young man’s arm.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. He’s gone.” He said, almost in a whisper.

At first, Mike received no response. He waited for about 30 seconds before adding, “You’re safe now. C’mon I’ll take you to the hospital.”

Still no response.

Mike continued to rub the boy’s arm, staring at him.

Finally, the young faceless man slowly lowered his arms, and it was obvious to

Mike it was painful for him to do so.

Now, Mike could see his face. Spiky bleached blond hair, a lip ring through a full (and bloody) bottom lip, large, dark eyes, shining orbs that were now chancing a look at his rescuer. The young man looked at Mike, pleadingly and with so much sorrow, it made Mike uncomfortable. For a few moments, they made eye contact. Then, the young man closed his eyes and laid flat almost like a corpse.

“Oh, no!” Mike said, placing this hand over the boy’s heart. It was still beating normally.

“Come on, we’re going to the hospital, now.” Mike insisted, preparing to pick the man up.

The man’s eyes shot open. “No.” He choked out, “Can’t.”

He shifted on the ground, coughed. But then laid perfectly still once more.

Mike was starting to panic. But then he thought, ‘I’ll take him home. Anna will know exactly what to do.”

“Be still.” Mike told him. He gently slid his arms around the injured boy and slowly raised him off the ground, curling him close to his body as he did so. The young man made no noise or gave no further objections. His eyes were shut again, and Mike would have thought he were dead if not for the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Mike carried him back to his car and delicately laid him flat across the back seat before pulling off down the Strip.


Didn't realize it was short AF until I posted it here. Ah, well. Thanks for reading. :)

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