Cursed, chapter 3
TWO YEARS LATER
Not all that long after that fateful night in Romania, Mike and Tre appeared together on television to announce the end of Green Day for personal reasons. Mike was the one who had done most of the talking, as well as making the excuse that Billie Joe was feeling under the weather, which is why he was absent from the press conference. Tre, on the other hand, was very aware of his surroundings and acting rather astute.
As expected, fans all over the world grieved, but for the more coherent two of the group -- that being Mike and Tre -- they could no longer care less.
They returned to their homes, and when their families discovered the truth of what had become of them, especially to Billie Joe...their wives, ex-wives, girlfriends and children fled in fear.
Half-expecting this, Mike took the liberty of selling all three of their homes, and sending the money to all their families, then collectively gathering all their earnings over the years and moving the three of them to an undisclosed location in the Northeast, along the New England states.
He purchased an old mansion far off from the main road, surrounded by a large, dilapidated brick wall complete with a wrought-iron gate...both being covered in overgrown ivy. The driveway up to the mansion was long and winding, and lined with weeping willows that were in desperate need of a little TLC. Directly in front of the main entrance, the driveway circled around a huge fountain that contained a cherub spewing water from it's stone lips.
The mansion, itself, was quite foreboding. With a side of impending doom.
Inside, the interior seemed quite similar to the interior of the mansion in the movie, 'The Haunting,' but on a smaller scale.
For the most part, the house was silent. There was no loud music or television noise echoing, except for once in a blue moon. There was no laughter, unless it was the sound of Tre laughing maniacally about nothing in particular at random times during the day or night.
There was the occasional groaning and moaning from Billie Joe who was allowed to ramble through the estate without supervision, but considering his zombified condition, that was a rarity. But only because whenever the former guitarist was allowed to wander off through the mansion alone, he bumped into things and broke them. And sometimes he got agitated like a retarded child, kinda like Helen Keller must've been, and tried to gnaw on Tre. Fortunately, Tre had the awareness to shove Billie Joe the Zombie away and send him stumbling off in another direction.
But, most of the time, they kept him on a leash. In the basement.
As for Mike and Tre, the non-braindead of the three men, they crossed paths in the spacious home from time to time, but mostly kept to themselves, in their own wings of the house. But when they did get together, well...it was an odd thing.
There's something to be said for becoming a vampire and discovering your erotic side. Your sensual, dark side. Your kinky side. And, not to mention, the 'being sexually attracted to both sexes' side.
* * *
One spring night, Tre staggered lazily out of the dining room, pulling up his pants and wiping something off-white in color from the corner of his mouth as Mike sauntered a few feet behind him like a predator satisfied with his prey.
Dressed only in his favorite pair of black pants that hung idly on his narrow hips, Mike took a long drag from the cigarette he'd placed to his lips, even though he had no need to smoke anymore, because of how he no longer had to breathe in order to exist.
The pupils of his eyes retracted from being dilated and the irises changed from all while back to their normal blue as he licked his lips after flicking the cigarette to the floor and putting it out with his bare foot.
"My ass hurts," Tre grunted, touching his hand to his clothed ass.
"As it should be," Mike mumbled, turning toward the grand staircase in the large front entrance hall. "I'll be upstairs if you need me."
"What about Billie, Oh Undead Buttfucker Of Mine?"
In one swift movement, Mike was in front of Tre's face and grabbed him by the throat and lifted him up off the ground about a foot. Snarling, Mike bared his fangs and practically hissed.
"Watch it," he bit out. "Don't forget who has the power in this place..."
Tre grinned and started to laugh a little while trying to claw at Mike's hand grasped tightly around his neck, slowly cutting off his air supply. And, considering Tre was the only living Green Day member, it was something he needed to be mindful of.
Staying alive, that is.
"Yeah, yeah," Tre cackled through staggered breaths. "Almighty Count Mikeula. My apologies."
Mike let Tre go, dropping him to his feet. "Throw him something to eat."
"He's not a dog," Tre muttered, a moment of sincerity breaking through the insanity.
"No, he's just a motherfucking zombie," Mike remarked sourly. And yet, aloofly. "Just do it."
Turning up to head upstairs, Mike left Tre alone in the front entrance hall.
* * *
Clunkering down the road the mansion sat back off of, a rather shitty car full of recent college graduates trucked along with the windows rolled down and music blaring from the care stereos.
Sitting smack dab in the middle, in the backseat, twenty-two year old Beth Hardy tipped her head back, rolling her eyes at the conversations going on between her two male friends, Craig and Brandon, who occupied the front seats, and her two female friends, Isabelle and Val, who sat on either side of her.
Beth was bored out of her mind and wasn't sure why she'd agreed to go out tonight. She hadn't been in the mood to hit up the local clubs and then go for a joy ride afterward. She'd much rather hole herself up in her bedroom, look out her window and listen to some music.
While dazing off in a daydream, the sound of the car's engine sputtering, brought her back to reality as the clunker of a vehicle came to a complete stop.
"Aw, fuck," Brandon exclaimed, hitting the steering wheel with the palms of his hands. "Fucking piece of shit car."
"I told you we shoulda taken Craig's car," Val commented haughtily.
"Shut up, Val," Brandon shot back. He turned off the engine and caught Beth's gaze in the rearview mirror. "What's your suggestion, Bethie?"
"Huh?"
"Well, the car's dead and since we're all bookworms and not mechanics...and since we're stranded here...what do you think we should do?"
Beth shrugged. "Use a cell phone and call AAA."
"I don't belong to AAA."
"So, call Information to find the number for a local tow truck service, like Meineke."
Brandon nodded, and pulled out his cell phone, punching the numbers 4-1-1. After a few seconds, he grimaced. "Damnit. I'm not getting a signal. What about you guys?"
Everyone pulled out their cell phones and tried 411 and also got no signal. They all looked at each other and then turned their attention to Beth.
"What? Why does everyone always look to me for what we should do when there's a problem?"
"Because you're the smart one," Isabelle remarked with a smile.
"We all went to Harvard. That means we're ALL smart."
"Maybe, but you graduated magna cum laude. We're just regular cum laude," added Craig.
"What's gonna happen when I'm not here one day to make the decisions for you?"
"We'll all die in agony," Brandon joked.
Rolling her eyes, Beth sat forward and nodded to the ivy-covered fence on the side of the road, a few yards up. "That looks like the nearest house," she commented. "I say we head up to the house beyond those gates and see if we can use their phone."
Everyone looked at each other and nodded.
"Sounds like a plan," Craig agreed.
About five minutes later, the five friends were standing at the front door, shivering in the sudden downpour of rain as lightening began to crackle in the sky above them.
"This is no house," Isabelle muttered, her teeth chattering. "This is, like, a fucking mansion."
"Great deduction there, Einstein," Val retorted.
"Will someone just ring the fucking doorbell?" Beth snipped.
Craig leaned forward and pressed the doorbell and then laughed as he turned to the others. "How fucking cool would it be if Lurch from the Addams Family answered the door and was all, 'You rang?'"
Beth smacked Craig on the back of the head as the door suddenly creaked open and all five friends stood there, curiously.
Suddenly, a dark figure appeared until the lightening flashing illuminated the face of Tre Cool.
"You rang?" he questioned, which caused Craig to laugh under his breath.
"Uh, hi. Our car broke down outside your gate and we can't get any service with our cell phones," Brandon spoke up. "We were wondering if we could use your phone."
Tre hesitated and then smiled, stepping aside and pulling the door open a little wider. "Why don't you all come in and get out of the rain, and then we'll see to the phone."
"Thanks," Brandon nodded, gesturing for his friends to follow him inside.
As they did, Tre shut the door behind them, smiling wickedly. All five friends stared in awe at the massive interior and eventually turned back to Tre.
"Is this your house or are you, like, the butler or something?" Val asked.
"I co-own it, I guess you could say. My friends and I live here," Tre replied.
Val nodded as they all continued to take in the sight of the ornate walls and decor, as Beth turned her head and glanced up at the top of the grand staircase, taking in lean figure of Mike, leaning against the railing with an inquisitive look on his face.
Their eyes locked for a moment, which caused Beth to blush slightly and look away as Tre piped up.
"Hey, Mike...look," he called up. "We have guests."
"So I see," Mike called back, slowly descending the stairs. Although still dressed in his favorite black pants, he was now adorning wearing a black dress shirt that was opened slightly at the top and with the cuffs undone, and then wearing a pair of black, house slippers. "Nice to meet you all," he greeted. "I'm Michael Pritchard. This, here, is my friend Frank Wright III."
Tre nodded to them all, still smiling.
"You said friends, though," Val commented, looking at the drummer. "Is there someone else here?"
Mike spoke up first. "Yes, our friend Bill. He's...around."
"Their car broke down outside the front gates, Mike," Tre informed his undead friend. "And they can't get signals with their cell phones to call for help, so they wanted to use our phone."
Mike nodded. "Well, I'm sorry to say but we don't have a phone. We just moved in...recently, and haven't hooked one up."
"But he said--" Brandon began, pointing toward Tre.
"The five of you are soaked," Mike stated the obvious to change the subject. "How about this: I'll have Frank go see to your car while I show everyone to the spare bedrooms. We have extra clothes for you to change into so you don't...catch your death, as they say. Afterward, we can all meet back down here and I can fix all of you something to eat and we can chat about where you were going at this time of night..."
The five friends were hesitant at first, but finally obliged. Mike gestured for them to go on and head up the staircase before him as he stepped over to Tre.
"Want me to get rid of the car?" Tre whispered.
"Do I have to even ask?" came Mike's retort.
With a nod, Tre opened the front door and stepped out into the pouring rain. As the heavy door shut with an echoing thud, the five friends turned back to Mike as they jumped from the surprise of the noise.
Mike laughed, rather refined. "Just the door," he assured. "Come on...I'll show you to some rooms..."
* * *
About a half hour later, the five friends sat around the dining room table, nursing glasses of red wine and dressed in dry clothes that were in the styles of something they'd probably have picked out for themselves if they'd gone shopping. The only exception was that the Beth was the only one in a dress.
And, although she'd never admit it, she felt like a princess in a castle with the dress she wore.
She was typically a jeans and T-shirt kind of girl since high school and never really had an excuse to dress up for anything, so when she was given the long, white dress made of silk and chiffon to wear -- the white dress that clung to her every curve and yet flare out like a ballgown -- she felt like a beautiful woman. And not just a frumpy college graduate.
"So, tell me," Mike began. "What brings you five this far out from civilization at this time of night?"
"We were checking out some bars for some good music and then decided to go for a ride..." Brandon replied, knocking back his first glass of wine.
"But the car died," Craig added. "Cell phones can't get reception out here, apparently, either."
"That's pretty much it," Val shrugged.
Isabelle, who'd been the most quiet, seemed to be eyeing Tre who smiled at her and caused her to shoot Beth a look. Biting her lip, she leaned over to her more studious friend and whispered, "Come with me into the kitchen."
Beth shook her head. "We can't just excuse ourselves and go into their kitchen. That's rude."
"They won't mind." Isabelle looked at Mike and Tre. "Would it be okay if Beth and I go into the kitchen and help ourselves to some fruit or something? We're a little hungry."
Mike shook his head. "No, go right ahead."
Isabelle stood up and took Beth by the hand. The two of them walked out of the dining room and through the swing door into the large kitchen. As soon as they were alone, Isabelle silently squealed.
"Omigod...do you know who they are?!"
Beth stood back, a little startled. "Uh...no?"
"They're, like, two-thirds of Green Day."
"The band who broke up two years ago? I thought they--what are they--how do you know it's them?"
"My roommate during my sophomore year was obsessed with them; the lead singer especially. She went to their concerts and listened to all their music," Isabelle explained. "I'd know their faces anywhere. And...omigod, we're in Green Day's mansion..."
Beth rolled her eyes as she opened the fridge and found a red, Macintosh apple. "Belle, listen...whoever they are...they let us come in out of the rain; giving us shelter, clothes, food and drink and a place to sleep, even, until the storm passes. So, frankly, I don't care if they're Frankenstein and Dracula so long as we can be on our merry way in the morning."
Isabelle tilted her head slightly to the side. "Oh, c'mon. Don't tell me you aren't a little excited." Isabelle gave Beth a knowing look. "I mean, after all...you're the one who's dressed like she lives here...all fancy and beautified."
"Mike said they only had three women's outfits. You and Val got the tops and pants. The dress was all that was left."
Isabelle nodded knowingly. "Mmhmm."
"What? It was."
"Sure, okay..." Isabelle shrugged. "But answer me this...how hot are they in person?"
Beth rolled her eyes just as they turned their heads and jumped in surprise to find Mike standing in the doorway.
"Found an apple, I see," he commented, gesturing to the piece of fruit in Beth's hand. He held her shying gaze, while she found herself to become lost in his blues eyes, as if caught up in his thrall.
"Uh...yeah. Apple." She grimaced to herself for sounding like a retard. "And, um...we want to thank you for the dry clothes, the shelter and the food. Is there anything we can do to repay your kindness?"
Shaking his head and sauntering rather sexily up to Beth, Mike walked around to behind her and let his hand trail along her bare shoulder, sending shivers down her back. He could hear her heartbeat speeding up and the blood pumping through her veins. And he could smell her attraction to him, which brought Mike great amusement.
And yet, intrigue.
"The dress looks very nice on you," he said softly, his eyes flitting over to Isabelle for a moment, before focusing on the smooth skin of Beth's exposed neck. And as tempting as it was to just take her there and drain her of her life's blood, he felt more compelled to let her walk freely around him.
She would be different from all the other 'guests' that had come up to the mansion and were somehow never seen of again.
"Th-thank you," Beth replied, looking at her friend with wide eyes, curiously wondering why Mike's breath was cool on her skin and not warm like anyone else's would be.
Stepping away, Mike smiled very charmingly, holding out a hand to each young woman. "Shall we rejoin the others?"
Isabelle and Beth both nodded as they placed their hands in his, with Mike leading them back into the dining room for what would be a very long night.
If they only knew how long.
Not all that long after that fateful night in Romania, Mike and Tre appeared together on television to announce the end of Green Day for personal reasons. Mike was the one who had done most of the talking, as well as making the excuse that Billie Joe was feeling under the weather, which is why he was absent from the press conference. Tre, on the other hand, was very aware of his surroundings and acting rather astute.
As expected, fans all over the world grieved, but for the more coherent two of the group -- that being Mike and Tre -- they could no longer care less.
They returned to their homes, and when their families discovered the truth of what had become of them, especially to Billie Joe...their wives, ex-wives, girlfriends and children fled in fear.
Half-expecting this, Mike took the liberty of selling all three of their homes, and sending the money to all their families, then collectively gathering all their earnings over the years and moving the three of them to an undisclosed location in the Northeast, along the New England states.
He purchased an old mansion far off from the main road, surrounded by a large, dilapidated brick wall complete with a wrought-iron gate...both being covered in overgrown ivy. The driveway up to the mansion was long and winding, and lined with weeping willows that were in desperate need of a little TLC. Directly in front of the main entrance, the driveway circled around a huge fountain that contained a cherub spewing water from it's stone lips.
The mansion, itself, was quite foreboding. With a side of impending doom.
Inside, the interior seemed quite similar to the interior of the mansion in the movie, 'The Haunting,' but on a smaller scale.
For the most part, the house was silent. There was no loud music or television noise echoing, except for once in a blue moon. There was no laughter, unless it was the sound of Tre laughing maniacally about nothing in particular at random times during the day or night.
There was the occasional groaning and moaning from Billie Joe who was allowed to ramble through the estate without supervision, but considering his zombified condition, that was a rarity. But only because whenever the former guitarist was allowed to wander off through the mansion alone, he bumped into things and broke them. And sometimes he got agitated like a retarded child, kinda like Helen Keller must've been, and tried to gnaw on Tre. Fortunately, Tre had the awareness to shove Billie Joe the Zombie away and send him stumbling off in another direction.
But, most of the time, they kept him on a leash. In the basement.
As for Mike and Tre, the non-braindead of the three men, they crossed paths in the spacious home from time to time, but mostly kept to themselves, in their own wings of the house. But when they did get together, well...it was an odd thing.
There's something to be said for becoming a vampire and discovering your erotic side. Your sensual, dark side. Your kinky side. And, not to mention, the 'being sexually attracted to both sexes' side.
* * *
One spring night, Tre staggered lazily out of the dining room, pulling up his pants and wiping something off-white in color from the corner of his mouth as Mike sauntered a few feet behind him like a predator satisfied with his prey.
Dressed only in his favorite pair of black pants that hung idly on his narrow hips, Mike took a long drag from the cigarette he'd placed to his lips, even though he had no need to smoke anymore, because of how he no longer had to breathe in order to exist.
The pupils of his eyes retracted from being dilated and the irises changed from all while back to their normal blue as he licked his lips after flicking the cigarette to the floor and putting it out with his bare foot.
"My ass hurts," Tre grunted, touching his hand to his clothed ass.
"As it should be," Mike mumbled, turning toward the grand staircase in the large front entrance hall. "I'll be upstairs if you need me."
"What about Billie, Oh Undead Buttfucker Of Mine?"
In one swift movement, Mike was in front of Tre's face and grabbed him by the throat and lifted him up off the ground about a foot. Snarling, Mike bared his fangs and practically hissed.
"Watch it," he bit out. "Don't forget who has the power in this place..."
Tre grinned and started to laugh a little while trying to claw at Mike's hand grasped tightly around his neck, slowly cutting off his air supply. And, considering Tre was the only living Green Day member, it was something he needed to be mindful of.
Staying alive, that is.
"Yeah, yeah," Tre cackled through staggered breaths. "Almighty Count Mikeula. My apologies."
Mike let Tre go, dropping him to his feet. "Throw him something to eat."
"He's not a dog," Tre muttered, a moment of sincerity breaking through the insanity.
"No, he's just a motherfucking zombie," Mike remarked sourly. And yet, aloofly. "Just do it."
Turning up to head upstairs, Mike left Tre alone in the front entrance hall.
* * *
Clunkering down the road the mansion sat back off of, a rather shitty car full of recent college graduates trucked along with the windows rolled down and music blaring from the care stereos.
Sitting smack dab in the middle, in the backseat, twenty-two year old Beth Hardy tipped her head back, rolling her eyes at the conversations going on between her two male friends, Craig and Brandon, who occupied the front seats, and her two female friends, Isabelle and Val, who sat on either side of her.
Beth was bored out of her mind and wasn't sure why she'd agreed to go out tonight. She hadn't been in the mood to hit up the local clubs and then go for a joy ride afterward. She'd much rather hole herself up in her bedroom, look out her window and listen to some music.
While dazing off in a daydream, the sound of the car's engine sputtering, brought her back to reality as the clunker of a vehicle came to a complete stop.
"Aw, fuck," Brandon exclaimed, hitting the steering wheel with the palms of his hands. "Fucking piece of shit car."
"I told you we shoulda taken Craig's car," Val commented haughtily.
"Shut up, Val," Brandon shot back. He turned off the engine and caught Beth's gaze in the rearview mirror. "What's your suggestion, Bethie?"
"Huh?"
"Well, the car's dead and since we're all bookworms and not mechanics...and since we're stranded here...what do you think we should do?"
Beth shrugged. "Use a cell phone and call AAA."
"I don't belong to AAA."
"So, call Information to find the number for a local tow truck service, like Meineke."
Brandon nodded, and pulled out his cell phone, punching the numbers 4-1-1. After a few seconds, he grimaced. "Damnit. I'm not getting a signal. What about you guys?"
Everyone pulled out their cell phones and tried 411 and also got no signal. They all looked at each other and then turned their attention to Beth.
"What? Why does everyone always look to me for what we should do when there's a problem?"
"Because you're the smart one," Isabelle remarked with a smile.
"We all went to Harvard. That means we're ALL smart."
"Maybe, but you graduated magna cum laude. We're just regular cum laude," added Craig.
"What's gonna happen when I'm not here one day to make the decisions for you?"
"We'll all die in agony," Brandon joked.
Rolling her eyes, Beth sat forward and nodded to the ivy-covered fence on the side of the road, a few yards up. "That looks like the nearest house," she commented. "I say we head up to the house beyond those gates and see if we can use their phone."
Everyone looked at each other and nodded.
"Sounds like a plan," Craig agreed.
About five minutes later, the five friends were standing at the front door, shivering in the sudden downpour of rain as lightening began to crackle in the sky above them.
"This is no house," Isabelle muttered, her teeth chattering. "This is, like, a fucking mansion."
"Great deduction there, Einstein," Val retorted.
"Will someone just ring the fucking doorbell?" Beth snipped.
Craig leaned forward and pressed the doorbell and then laughed as he turned to the others. "How fucking cool would it be if Lurch from the Addams Family answered the door and was all, 'You rang?'"
Beth smacked Craig on the back of the head as the door suddenly creaked open and all five friends stood there, curiously.
Suddenly, a dark figure appeared until the lightening flashing illuminated the face of Tre Cool.
"You rang?" he questioned, which caused Craig to laugh under his breath.
"Uh, hi. Our car broke down outside your gate and we can't get any service with our cell phones," Brandon spoke up. "We were wondering if we could use your phone."
Tre hesitated and then smiled, stepping aside and pulling the door open a little wider. "Why don't you all come in and get out of the rain, and then we'll see to the phone."
"Thanks," Brandon nodded, gesturing for his friends to follow him inside.
As they did, Tre shut the door behind them, smiling wickedly. All five friends stared in awe at the massive interior and eventually turned back to Tre.
"Is this your house or are you, like, the butler or something?" Val asked.
"I co-own it, I guess you could say. My friends and I live here," Tre replied.
Val nodded as they all continued to take in the sight of the ornate walls and decor, as Beth turned her head and glanced up at the top of the grand staircase, taking in lean figure of Mike, leaning against the railing with an inquisitive look on his face.
Their eyes locked for a moment, which caused Beth to blush slightly and look away as Tre piped up.
"Hey, Mike...look," he called up. "We have guests."
"So I see," Mike called back, slowly descending the stairs. Although still dressed in his favorite black pants, he was now adorning wearing a black dress shirt that was opened slightly at the top and with the cuffs undone, and then wearing a pair of black, house slippers. "Nice to meet you all," he greeted. "I'm Michael Pritchard. This, here, is my friend Frank Wright III."
Tre nodded to them all, still smiling.
"You said friends, though," Val commented, looking at the drummer. "Is there someone else here?"
Mike spoke up first. "Yes, our friend Bill. He's...around."
"Their car broke down outside the front gates, Mike," Tre informed his undead friend. "And they can't get signals with their cell phones to call for help, so they wanted to use our phone."
Mike nodded. "Well, I'm sorry to say but we don't have a phone. We just moved in...recently, and haven't hooked one up."
"But he said--" Brandon began, pointing toward Tre.
"The five of you are soaked," Mike stated the obvious to change the subject. "How about this: I'll have Frank go see to your car while I show everyone to the spare bedrooms. We have extra clothes for you to change into so you don't...catch your death, as they say. Afterward, we can all meet back down here and I can fix all of you something to eat and we can chat about where you were going at this time of night..."
The five friends were hesitant at first, but finally obliged. Mike gestured for them to go on and head up the staircase before him as he stepped over to Tre.
"Want me to get rid of the car?" Tre whispered.
"Do I have to even ask?" came Mike's retort.
With a nod, Tre opened the front door and stepped out into the pouring rain. As the heavy door shut with an echoing thud, the five friends turned back to Mike as they jumped from the surprise of the noise.
Mike laughed, rather refined. "Just the door," he assured. "Come on...I'll show you to some rooms..."
* * *
About a half hour later, the five friends sat around the dining room table, nursing glasses of red wine and dressed in dry clothes that were in the styles of something they'd probably have picked out for themselves if they'd gone shopping. The only exception was that the Beth was the only one in a dress.
And, although she'd never admit it, she felt like a princess in a castle with the dress she wore.
She was typically a jeans and T-shirt kind of girl since high school and never really had an excuse to dress up for anything, so when she was given the long, white dress made of silk and chiffon to wear -- the white dress that clung to her every curve and yet flare out like a ballgown -- she felt like a beautiful woman. And not just a frumpy college graduate.
"So, tell me," Mike began. "What brings you five this far out from civilization at this time of night?"
"We were checking out some bars for some good music and then decided to go for a ride..." Brandon replied, knocking back his first glass of wine.
"But the car died," Craig added. "Cell phones can't get reception out here, apparently, either."
"That's pretty much it," Val shrugged.
Isabelle, who'd been the most quiet, seemed to be eyeing Tre who smiled at her and caused her to shoot Beth a look. Biting her lip, she leaned over to her more studious friend and whispered, "Come with me into the kitchen."
Beth shook her head. "We can't just excuse ourselves and go into their kitchen. That's rude."
"They won't mind." Isabelle looked at Mike and Tre. "Would it be okay if Beth and I go into the kitchen and help ourselves to some fruit or something? We're a little hungry."
Mike shook his head. "No, go right ahead."
Isabelle stood up and took Beth by the hand. The two of them walked out of the dining room and through the swing door into the large kitchen. As soon as they were alone, Isabelle silently squealed.
"Omigod...do you know who they are?!"
Beth stood back, a little startled. "Uh...no?"
"They're, like, two-thirds of Green Day."
"The band who broke up two years ago? I thought they--what are they--how do you know it's them?"
"My roommate during my sophomore year was obsessed with them; the lead singer especially. She went to their concerts and listened to all their music," Isabelle explained. "I'd know their faces anywhere. And...omigod, we're in Green Day's mansion..."
Beth rolled her eyes as she opened the fridge and found a red, Macintosh apple. "Belle, listen...whoever they are...they let us come in out of the rain; giving us shelter, clothes, food and drink and a place to sleep, even, until the storm passes. So, frankly, I don't care if they're Frankenstein and Dracula so long as we can be on our merry way in the morning."
Isabelle tilted her head slightly to the side. "Oh, c'mon. Don't tell me you aren't a little excited." Isabelle gave Beth a knowing look. "I mean, after all...you're the one who's dressed like she lives here...all fancy and beautified."
"Mike said they only had three women's outfits. You and Val got the tops and pants. The dress was all that was left."
Isabelle nodded knowingly. "Mmhmm."
"What? It was."
"Sure, okay..." Isabelle shrugged. "But answer me this...how hot are they in person?"
Beth rolled her eyes just as they turned their heads and jumped in surprise to find Mike standing in the doorway.
"Found an apple, I see," he commented, gesturing to the piece of fruit in Beth's hand. He held her shying gaze, while she found herself to become lost in his blues eyes, as if caught up in his thrall.
"Uh...yeah. Apple." She grimaced to herself for sounding like a retard. "And, um...we want to thank you for the dry clothes, the shelter and the food. Is there anything we can do to repay your kindness?"
Shaking his head and sauntering rather sexily up to Beth, Mike walked around to behind her and let his hand trail along her bare shoulder, sending shivers down her back. He could hear her heartbeat speeding up and the blood pumping through her veins. And he could smell her attraction to him, which brought Mike great amusement.
And yet, intrigue.
"The dress looks very nice on you," he said softly, his eyes flitting over to Isabelle for a moment, before focusing on the smooth skin of Beth's exposed neck. And as tempting as it was to just take her there and drain her of her life's blood, he felt more compelled to let her walk freely around him.
She would be different from all the other 'guests' that had come up to the mansion and were somehow never seen of again.
"Th-thank you," Beth replied, looking at her friend with wide eyes, curiously wondering why Mike's breath was cool on her skin and not warm like anyone else's would be.
Stepping away, Mike smiled very charmingly, holding out a hand to each young woman. "Shall we rejoin the others?"
Isabelle and Beth both nodded as they placed their hands in his, with Mike leading them back into the dining room for what would be a very long night.
If they only knew how long.
