Cursed, chapter 1

Stumbling into the Romanian Bed & Breakfast outside the city of Oradea, in a small town near the border to Hungary, was probably not the best idea the guys of Green Day had in a long time, considering the elderly woman who owned the place was creepy, bitchy and completely anal.

Ms. Ileana Dudnic reminded them faintly of Grandmama Adams, but in a more cleaner version.

The Bed & Breakfast, albeit quaint, was also kinda creepy; just like old woman. When they first arrived, it was earlier in the day, but even then the place seemed very ominous. They stared at every detail of the exterior and interior in great detail until Ms. Dudic appeared seemingly out of nowhere, beckoning to them with her long, bony finger.

She rambled on in her thick accent, running through the rules she had for all her guests.

No smoking, no drinking, no loud noise after ten, no guests, no drugs, no vandalism, no going into the kitchen unsupervised, no touching the antiques or paintings on the walls.

No, no, no, no, no...

And of course the three punk rockers weren't going to obey... Completely.

They went out that night, went to a pub in town, got utterly shitfaced, high and then stumbled drunkenly back into the Bed & Breakfast, loud as can be and bumping into everything.

Billie Joe was singing some Romanian drinking song he'd picked up at the pub, and singing it horribly because he wasn't familiar with the language. Tre was pretending to French-kiss a statue of medieval armor standing in one corner of the front hall, causing the metal to clank and creak most annoyingly. And, as for Mike, he was wandering off into the kitchen because he had the munchies.

All the racket they were causing was not at all what Ms. Dudic appreciated.

"Vhat iz going on?" she demanded in a crickety voice. Billie Joe spun around, a cigarette dangling precariously from his lips, and stopped singing while Tre continued to faux make out with the suit of armor. "Vhat iz it you ah doing to my zings, you animals?!"

Backhanding Tre, he jumped in surprise just as Mike stumbled out of the kitchen with a very sloppy sandwich; a random tomato slipping from between the slices of bread to the wooden floor below.

"You ah breaking ev'ry rule I gave ta you! I say no smoking and no loud noise! No touching my zings, no going into zah kitchen vit'out supervision... You ah breaking zah rules!"

"Well, fuck, lady. You're being a little too fucking unrealistic," Billie Joe muttered as he pulled his cigarette from his lips, taking a long drag. As he continued to speak, the smoke billowed out of his mouth and into her general direction. "You knew who we were before you let us fuckin' stay here. I mean, shit, we've fucked up expensive hotel suites all over the fuckin' world and all we did here so far was smoke, shout a little, make some sandwiches and, well...make-out with your metal clothes in the corner..." he gestured flamboyantly with his right hand over at Tre.

"Be thankful Mike didn't take a fuckin' shit on your floor," Tre remarked.

"Dude, it was only the one time, and that was off a balcony," the bassist jumped to his own defense. "And Billie's the one who walks around naked and you're the one that throws TVs out the window."

Ms. Dudic's eyes widened in angered. "Git out!" she growled. "Git out of my home! You no stay here no more!"

"Hey, lady. It's fuckin' three in the fuckin' morning," Billie Joe barked at her. "Where the fuck are we gonna go in this God forsaken shithole town? Our bus driver's out cold on the bus; fuckin' sleeping."

"Zat iz not my problem. Git out of dis place or I vill--"

"You'll what?" Billie Joe tempted.

"Dude...let's just go," Mike muttered, still holding his sloppy sandwich.

"No!" the guitarist exclaimed. "This BITCH is being fuckin' unreasonable."

"Yeah, it was just a suit of armor," Tre added. "I've done worse to other inanimate objects."

Ms. Dudic was clearly disgusted and very angered. Without warning, she grabbed an umbrella from the umbrella vase by the door and swiftly cracked it across Billie Joe's face.

"You all leave now!" she shouted.

"Billie!" Mike exclaimed, going to his friend's side.

The green eyed punk held the side of his face which had been badly thwacked as blood from the cut just under his left eye began to drip between his fingers. "You fuckin' bitch!" Billie Joe shouted.

"What the fuck, you old coot!" Tre yelled, sobering up.

"You foul men enjoy zah night so much, yes? You violate my home, my honor! You 'ave no respect for me or my zings!" she growled, pointing the umbrella at all three of them, making them take steps backward. "Vell zen...before you leave dis land, you vill valk zah rest of zah vorld...and you vill all live your lives out as a nightmare, only half of vhat you are now...you vork more in zah night...zen I curse you to live as creatures of zah night. You vill never enjoy another sunrise..."

At that moment, a thunderstorm decided to roll in, quite clichely, as lightening cracked.

Ms. Dudic's eyes darkened as she stared wickedly at the three men. "God 'ave mercy on your souls."

Seriously freaked out, Tre tugged on the sleeves of his friends. "Guys, let's just go...like, now."

"But our things are upstairs..." Mike began.

"Forget them!" Tre exclaimed. "I'm not staying another second in this place with some Romanian voodoo woman with a whacky umbrella of pain!"

Yanking his friends out the front door, they headed out into the falling rain.

"What now?" Billie Joe demanded.

"We wake up Andy and head back on the road...find the closest city and get a hotel room," Tre replied, a little bit calmer.

"Oradea," Mike mumbled.

"What?"

"Oradea," Mike repeated. "I remember seeing the name on a road sign before we got here. It's the closest metropoli---AHHHH!"

Billie Joe and Tre turned their heads, squinting through the dark and the rain to see their taller friend flailing his arms around, seemingly fighting something off.

And then there was the screeching sound that followed. A tiny screeching sound coming from whatever must be attacking Mike.

As the two shorter friends approached Mike, they could see what looked like a weird bird, biting and nipping at Mike's bare arms and neck, leaving cuts as the rain washed the blood wash off of him.

"Ow...fuck!" Mike shouted. "I can't get it off! Get it off, GET IT OFF! Oww...holy shit...OW!"

The closer Tre got, the more the bird didn't look anything like a bird at all. Sure, it had wings and was flying about, but it's head looked like a mix between a cat and a pig.

"Dude, that's a fucking bat!" Tre pointed out.

"I don't fucking care, dickwad! Get it off of me!" Mike growled, but not as strong as he did before.

"Oh, shit," Billie Joe muttered. "You're getting seriously bit up. You could lose a lot of blood. Tre--whack that fuckin' bat away and let's get Mike into the bus," the guitarist ordered.

Carefully, Tre focused on the bat and managed to backhand it good enough that him and Billie Joe were able to drag their gradually weakening friend over to where their bus was parked. Billie Joe fumbled for the key as Tre had to continue and fight off the bat for his friend's sake and well being.

Finally they stormed onto the bus, slamming the door shut behind them and startling Andy, the bus driver.

"What the fuck?" Andy grumbled sleepily.

"Change of plans, And," Billie Joe began. "Start up the bus and get us the hell out of this fuckin' country."

"What about that Oradea?" Tre wondered. "It's close and they gotta have a hospital for Mike to get checked out."

"Mike'll survive a few cuts. I want us out of this place. Now!" Billie Joe snapped.

"But you just said he could be losing blood...Billie..."

"Could be, being the operative word," the guitarist amended. "We have a first aid kit on board. We'll do what we can here and find something in Hungary. We're not that far from the border either." He looked over at Andy who had started up the bus.

Tre began to lead Mike into the bunk area, as Billie Joe helped him place the taller man in his own bunk. Sharing the duty, they both cleaned Mike's wounds and bandaged him as best as they could with what supplies they had, neither saying anything about how bad Mike looked.

The poor guy looked horrible.

He was cut up all over his neck and arms, pale and looked so tired.

Frowning, Billie Joe patted his friend's arm. "Mike, buddy, get some rest, okay? Tre and I are gonna go up front by Andy for now."

Mike nodded slowly, barely moving, as the shorter men closed the curtain to the bunk area and walked up toward the kitchen area to talk in hushed voices.

"Let me get this straight..." Billie Joe began. "Did that bitch fucking curse us before we left? And now Mike's been bitten by a fucking bat?"

"It's just an odd coincidence," the drummer remarked, a little nervously. "Incredibly creepy...but still a coincidence."

"I dunno. That bitch just got so fuckin' weird. And it's not like we were setting her precious B&B on fire," Billie Joe commented.

Tre nodded and then looked at his friend's face. "How's the cut?"

Putting his hand to the left side of his face, Billie Joe shrugged. "It's fine. I mean, it hurt like a bitch when she hit me with her fucking umbrella, but I'll live..."


* * *

Back in the bunk area, Mike laid in his bed, writhing in discomfort as he rolled his head to the side, quietly gasping for air, and going unheard by his friends. Licking his lips, he winced, closing his eyes briefly. As his hands crossed over his chest, the bassist tried to mutter to Billie Joe and Tre.

"Billie..." he whispered. "Tre...I can't...I...I can't..."

Letting out one sharp and painful breath...

...Mike Dirnt died.