Five

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"Get outta my head!"

With a scream that sounded like a cross between guttural and inhuman, Bobby flung the nearest object–a framed picture of himself and Mishy with a giggly Zach between them–at whatever wall was in front of him. He'd come to the vacation home he'd bought up in Utah, which was meant to be a surprise for his wife and son, when they'd officially decided to End the tour early.

He still didn't know what the fuck was going on, just that something was attacking him almost constantly, whether he was awake or asleep. He was also well-aware of the personality Change that led to wild mood swings–wilder than any his mother'd ever claimed he'd suffered as a hormonal teenager. The bassist was terrified that if he went back home to Florida, Mishy and Zach'd wind up dead by the very next morning, his now-ex-wife in particular. Normally, he wouldn't have said he hated her–even after their divorce'd been finalized back in October all of a week before their fourth anniversary–but right now, he'd definitely say he hated her and then some.

Even as he slid down the counter in his kitchen and let out what could only be described as gut-wrenching, Soul-shattering sobs, Bobby couldn't help the overwhelming desire to kill someone. His ex-wife, his son, his mother, his siblings, his band, even himself–no one was off-limits to his tormented, besieged mind right now. Whatever'd been messing with him to the point of getting his tour cancelled–and no doubt his divorce fast-tracked–was just making him wanna End it all.

That was when a sudden Thought popped into mind, and the bassist was all for giving it a shot, 'cuz he'd a far bigger zest for Life than to simply kill himself and anything was better than living like this. He hadn't been able to so much as look at a cross in months, lest it feel like he was being burned wherever it touched, hence his sudden refusal to wear one. The one thing he hadn't tried, though, wasn't the least bit Christian–it was as Pagan as it got, and he hoped this worked rather than backfiring on him. It was that Thought that made Hope grow within him, despite the sudden pounding headache it caused as he crawled toward something.

"When I said get outta my fuckin' head, I damn well meant it!" Bobby snapped, grabbing something outta a Cedar chest he hid all sortsa shit in.

While he didn't necessarily hear a roar in his head like he heard when he got near a cross, he could still tell that whatever was messing with him didn't even like him grabbing the Pentacle he'd sought. The surprising thing was that this Pagan symbol of Protection made him feel even Calmer and more at ease than his cross'd made him feel in months. It felt kinda like rubbing calamine lotion over a poison ivy outbreak when he was a kid, yet at the same Time, there was so much more to it.

"I don't give a fuck whatcha are–you're not keeping Control over me!" he swore, rising to his feet once he'd slipped the chain the Pentacle hung from over his head. "You'll have to kill me to do that, and even then, I'm not going down without a fight!"


Back down in Southern California, Rikki was busy hanging a left on a park access road practically right next door to the Ventura Beach RV Resort. He'd been just as surprised as the rest of the guys when the woman he'd called had told him to meet her at the Seaside Wilderness Park. Apparently, that was a close as they were getting to her home in a car, which was exactly how she'd wanted it when she'd managed to buy a small part of the park in exchange for being what amounted to its live-in caretaker.

Once he was parked and the four guys in his car'd gotten out, the Bishop and Major Archbishop they'd been talking to pulling into a parking space right beside him, the drummer started looking around. He'd never actually met this Dragonfly that their bassist talked so highly of, so he didn't actually know what she looked like. He only recognized her voice from the handful of phone calls he'd overheard Bobby in the middle of with her, so he'd know her once he heard her call out or something. At the moment, though, there wasn't a Soul in sight beyond the small group who'd just Traveled here from the Western edges of Los Angeles.

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