August 11th 1995
The crowd parted ways at the concert in Langdon Park. It was a hot summer, the humidity very apparent on the skin of the large crowd. If you looked just close enough at the midnight sky you could see a dark storm brewing. And he knew it wouldn’t be long before all of the bands were hurrying to pack up their equipment and hit the road.
He was sure there would be some trying to score some drugs, or maybe a lady for the night, and even more of them hoping to make their night just a little more exciting.
Jumping down from the stage, he gained his footing. Paying close attention to winding up the wire, he worked quickly. His tattoos apparent at each swift swing of his arm, he wasn’t an innocent guy, he was just as much a part of them even if he never liked to admit it. One swift shove sent the plastic container into the side compartment of the tour bus, he was done for the night and only looking forward to getting a couple hours of sleep before they were on to the next city. But as soon as the screams of hundreds of fans broke through his mindless thoughts he knew that would never happen, giving an intense sigh, one that proved just how tired he was getting at this gig. He shoved the task at hand aside, jumping out of the way just in time as the whole stage crashed beside him, metal and stray grass spilling out before him, smoke loomed off in the distance in quiet little crowds.
They were there, there to destroy everything in their path. He knew it was ill will to think anything that they did would ever turn into anything more than just a disaster. And as he watched the sick twisted beast suck the life of their victims, he held it together on the outside, it was part of life after all. No he took that back, it was part of his life, his sick upbringing. Looking down at his arms pained him, his throat constricted with the horrifying realization, he was the same. Dropping his cigarette on the gravel he took in the twisted metal scraping and whining as it hit the ground, taking off into a sprint he crept across the grass like a well trained athlete. His shirt becoming a little bothersome so he shrugged it off carrying on, that’s when he spied her, a young girl. She couldn’t have been more then seventeen at the most, probably experiencing her first live concert. But all he felt on the inside was hot rage, a hunger that crawled out from someplace so dark he didn’t even recognize it. Her eyes grew large as he approached and her deafening scream filled the air, minutes later all was silent and an eerie stillness settled back on the park.
He shot up in bed, all was silent. The music in the park barely audible from the bus, the rain started falling steadily against the window, it had been a dream. An eerie dream that had been replaying in his mind for months, he rubbed the back of his neck trying to get himself motivated enough to start packing up the band. Just because he wasn’t at his best didn’t mean he could get out of his job as stagehand.