“This is going to be awesome,” Isabelle said; the joy and anticipation clear on her face. She had been waiting for this gig for months and was now so pumped she could barely stand still.
Alex rolled his eyes. He liked the band, sure, but getting so excited over one metal band didn’t seem reasonable to him, he had only tagged along because Isabelle had begged him to come.
“Yeah, it’s gonna be sweet,” he replied, if only to placate her. She could be so excitable. Like a small child in a sweet shop… that sells toys… and puppies… and was made of unicorns. He smiled inwardly at his own thoughts before being dragged a few feet along the pavement as the line inched ever closer to their eventual destination. Isabelle frantically tried to look over the heads of the people in front to see how far they were from the entrance; difficult for her tiny five foot two frame. After a while of watching her jump up and down like a rabbit on a moon bounce Alex took pity on her and, with minimal effort, peered to the front of the queue.
“We’re about ten people from the front,” he told her, “So by my calculations, about three hours from getting in.”
She scowled at him, “Stop being such a nitwit. It won’t take that long and – what are you laughing at?”
Alex chuckled, “Nitwit? Where did that come from? The 1960’s called, they want their word back.”
She looked puzzled for a second, then burst out laughing, “It’s from a cartoon I watched with my kid brother once that made its way into my regular watching material. You like?”
Letting loose one last snort of laughter, he conceded, “Yeah, it’s brilliant.”
“I knew it,” she said, smugly.
A few moments of silence went by and, being the socially inept misanthrope he was, Alex let the conversation die. He didn’t mind. It gave him time to think, as he liked to do from time to time. He looked to the sky, contemplating the likelihood of more storms. It seemed like a sure thing. Dark clouds were regrouping and, if he strained, he could just about hear a low roar of thunder over the noise of the many people in the plaza. It had been storming a lot lately; Alex couldn’t help but think it all seemed a bit foreboding. He didn’t have time to dwell on it as Isabelle pulled him impatiently by the wrist over to the bouncer. Apparently either the line had moved very fast or he had become enthralled by his own thoughts again.
“Can I see your ticket please, sir?” He sounded bored, like he hadn’t had any action all night. He probably hadn’t, most of the teenagers going to the gig were so doped up they didn’t know where they were. The bouncers were more than happy to let them in as long as they didn’t cause trouble, which they rarely did. How could the most naturally lazy being in existence bar the sloth cause trouble when he or she was higher than Apollo 11?
Alex casually held up his and Isabelle’s tickets, and the bouncer let them pass.
“Have a nice night, sir,” he said in an almost mechanical tone, “and I won’t have to bash your head in.”
Alex was a little taken aback by this, but it soon faded into amusement as he realised that the bouncer had to do something different or risk the loss of his sanity.
Isabelle clearly hadn’t gleaned this as she nudged him and said, “What was that about? Does he think we might cause trouble?”
Alex told her not to worry about it and led her into the main lobby. They left their coats with a rather huffy-looking receptionist who snatched their garments from them and thrust their ticket into Alex’s chest. Alex raised his eyebrows at her and got an evil look for his trouble. He pulled a mock affronted pose before flipping her off and walking into the hall the gig was in. Stage 2; he thought they would be playing the Main Stage but what could he do?
It was excruciatingly hot in the hall but Alex wasn’t bothered, and Isabelle certainly didn’t mind. She had already started making her way into the mosh pits. They had arrived a little late so the band was already in full swing; bathing the room in a swirling mass of heavy bass lines and screaming guitars with the overdrive turned up so far it would have embarrassed Slayer. Still, with a name like Voices of Violence what did he expect?
The hall had apparently been cleaned since Alex’s last visit; a rather pointless endeavour, he thought. Metal, mosh pits and plastic cups does not a clean floor make. He decided he had better follow after Isabelle to make sure she wasn’t hurting anyone. He cracked his knuckles, shook himself down and charged headfirst into the crowd of fans. Pushing, shoving and, in one case, punching his way to the middle he inevitably found Isabelle jumping around and waving her arms around frantically. She didn’t come for the music; she came because it was a good place to get away with starting fights.
His eyes widened in genuine fear when she grabbed him by the arm and threw him into the spikily clad fans of Voices of Violence. He stood out like a sore thumb as the only wearer of tight yellow jeans and a shirt that had an actual colour on it; Isabelle wasn’t much better, although he reasoned that she did it to make him feel less likely to be beaten up. Although it seemed that particular landmine was about to be thoroughly stepped on he thought, as he flew face first into a burly male. Luckily, it seemed that Alex had about as much impact as a small fruit fly. He was relieved; he’d grown quite attached to his nose over the years and decided it looked much better unbroken.
He scrambled out of the pit as fast as he could physically move and snarled viciously at Isabelle, who smiled sweetly back at him. All was forgiven. He loved that smile, he always had. There was just something about it that made it too adorable to be angry at. He loathed himself for being so easily swayed, but that passed when he realised that she had ran into the pit again and jumped on the burly male Alex had fallen into. She could take care of herself, he thought, wading through the crowds to what he hoped was the exit. He needed a couple of minutes to regroup.
It was quiet outside. The stage areas were surprisingly soundproof. About a dozen scary looking teens were either smoking or just about to by the railings. Alex manoeuvred around them as best he could, apologising when he couldn’t, and leaned on the grimy bars. They were icy to the touch. He looked up at the building. It was a nice place on the outside, with the exception of the filthy railings. It was a shame how badly it was treated on the inside. There was a giant neon sign with the centres name on it and the bricks were painted in a thousand shades of every colour known to man. All in all, it was a very good looking building. As he looked up at it, he couldn’t help but notice that the sky looked blacker than it ever had been before. He shuddered as he remembered the dreams he’d been having recently. Dreams of … things … rising from the ground. Horrible creatures of enormous power, decimating everything in their way until there was nothing left. He put the image out of his mind.
Just as he was beginning to relax after dismissing the thought, several drunken and inevitably high college students burst out of the doors. Hearing many loud cheers at the vomiting prowess of intoxicated students was certainly not the way Alex had envisioned regrouping his scattered senses. He thought about it quickly, and then hurried back inside the building to find the way onto the roof.
He jogged up the steps two at a time, eager to be away from the noise again. He opened the door to the rooftop and was a little more than shocked when he saw what was there.
Isabelle was standing over a creature that looked just like the things he had seen in his dreams.
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