The Gods of Rock 'n' Roll

Pushy: Allison

A shower and the meal that was left for her while she was in the bathroom had her feeling much better. Phillip had left her a note asking to see her when she woke if she permitted. The idea of him asking to court her, basically, when he had so much power at his disposal made her smile. Maybe she really could trust what he was saying.

A song started playing in her head, and she rolled her eyes.

"Really? 'If You Don't Come Back?'" So that's how the big guy was going to work this situation. He'd keep assaulting her with his seventies-era funk to get her to do what he wanted.

"Pushy bastard," she mumbled as she dressed in a long black knit dress someone had laid out for her. Her hair hung down her back, instantly soaking the material, but it kept her cool.

She decided to do some exploring, hoping to see Sal before finding Phillip. She still wasn't sure what she wanted to say to him. She just knew she wanted to sing with him once more. Perhaps if the feeling was still there...

Her thoughts were jumbled as she attempted to navigate the hallways of this massive compound. She heard movement downstairs, but as she passed an open door, she saw Sal standing at the window. She thought she heard the opening lyrics to "Trouble" in her head, but she pushed it aside, stepping into the room.

"Hey, you," she said, feeling a little awkward.

She'd known him for only a day, but they'd really bonded over their mutual love of music, thrift store shopping, and Monty Python's Flying Circus, even doing their own versions of the Ministry of Silly Walks through the bowling alley. He was so fun to hang out with, not moody so much like Robbie, but she could sense a vulnerability about him. That was as much as she'd picked up.

"Are you feeling better? What a crazy night, eh?" She approached him cautiously, warning bells going off in her head when he didn't turn around immediately .

"Crazy. Interesting word choice. Crazy is just the beginning."

His voice was off. He sounded like he was speaking through some kind of voice modifier. Allison stepped to his side so she could look at his face when he erupted in laughter and turned on her. His eyes were completely black, and the skin on his face seemed stretched really tight.

"What is the matter with you?" she asked, stepping back.

"I can still smell him all over you," the creepy voice said from Sal's mouth.

His hair didn't move in its usual way. Instead, it seemed stiff. His body was rigid, as if he didn't really have control over his movements. He took two jerky steps toward her, and his hand shot out, closing around her throat.

Allison couldn't even make a sound. She clawed at his hand as he raised her off the floor.

"He wants you, but he'll never have you. I'll make sure of that."

Sal squeezed tighter, and then he flung her across the room, her back slamming into the wall. She slid down to the floor, coughing and gasping for air. It was then that she saw Francis' crumpled form in the corner. Somehow Sal had managed to take him out of commission.

"It has taken me long enough to get back to my lover. I will let nothing stand in my way." He moved in that jerky way across the room to her.

She scrambled to get away, screaming hoarsely, but he was quicker, grabbing her throat once more. He lifted her and moved towards the bank of windows. An evil smile crossed his face, and his laughter quieted.

"He'll have to put you back together from pieces when I'm done with you."

He tossed her with inhuman strength once more, her shoulder shattering the glass. She landed with a thud on the stone balcony. Her last memory was Phillip's stunned face in the doorway.