Chapter 23

As we pull into Ocean Street Music Hall’s parking lot, I’m an anxious mess: palms sweating, tunnel vision, knees weak, and all. I check my phone for the thousandth time, hoping to see a reply from Elijah, but he never even read my text. With a huff, I shove the phone into my pocket. I don’t know what to expect, or how this night is going to play out, but I’m completely terrified at what Oliver has planned. I know it’s not just a concert, and I know, whatever it is, it’s not going to end well. I just have a feeling.

And what’s even worse? Elijah and Andrew are here . My best friend and his lover are in the venue and probably in very real danger. I haven’t told Elijah anything about Oliver and what he’s become. If I had just opened up to him and told him the truth, maybe we could have avoided this whole scenario. Suddenly my reasons for keeping all of this from him seem silly. I wanted to keep myself out of an asylum and Elijah out of danger, but Elijah is in danger regardless, so what did I even accomplish? Oh god. This is all my fault.

But it’s not just my best friend in there. There’s also a massive crowd of innocent people here, all anticipating Soulstorm Serenade’s big return show. If we didn’t show up here to stop whatever this is—if we can’t stop it… Oh god. This is really bad. I will do everything in my power to save as many lives as I can. I pause. With Chris and the band’s help. I need them willing to do anything to help protect my friend.

Walking up to the main entrance doors with Chris at my side, our pace significantly increases so we can reach the doors as soon as possible. We’re followed by Benji, Bash, Tyler, and Cade, Chris’ friends and the members of Bloodstained Symphony: the big emo entourage following their pretty in pink groupie. I snort at the thought. As if that would ever be the case.

The line outside has already died down by the time we approach the doors. We’re late, so people are already inside the venue. Doesn’t matter. I just need to get inside, find Elijah and Andrew, and then try to get as many people to leave as possible. Trying to get people to believe that Oliver is going to potentially kill them may prove difficult, though. No one is going to believe me, no matter who I was to Oliver. Maybe if I just screamed fire, people would leave?

“It looks like they’re confiscating everyone’s phones,” Chris observes.

“Yeah, ’cause they don’t want video evidence of whatever fucked up shit they are about to do. They want to commit the murders but not give themselves a bad name,” Bash says, an annoyed edge to his tone.

Shit. I don’t want them to take my phone. “Chris, they can’t take our phones.”

“They won’t, little kitten. Don’t worry.” I give him a confused look, but he’s already past me and approaching the security guards at the main entrance.

As I close in behind Chris, though, I get my first real look at the security guards, and a shiver runs through me. They look off like something is deeply wrong with them. Although I could point to any number of things that unsettle me about the two huge, muscular men, including their empty eyes staring aimlessly over people’s heads and or their monotone voices, it wasn’t anything in particular that led me to believe that something was deeply wrong . It was everything about them. They look dazed, almost hypnotized.

The bald one on the left speaks, his lifeless, blank stare fixed on a point over my head. “Danica Gray. You are expected. You may enter.” With as little motion as his huge body would allow, he stiffly opens the door for me, his elbows barely folding to allow the movement.

I glance at Chris and shrug slightly. Careful not to touch the creepy human who appears to be under some spell, I skirt the door and walk slowly inside, Chris close enough to me that I can feel him behind me. I’m just crossing the threshold when I feel something brush against my back.

Behind me, I hear that unnerving monotone again. “Not you. Ticket and your phone.”

I turn to see what’s happening, only to find the guard has blocked the door with his arm with Chris and his band on the other side of the threshold from me.

Chris sees my panicked stare but just gives me a comforting smile, his dimple popping out as he focuses his gaze on the guard. “We’re with Danica. You’re going to let us enter.”

The guard doesn’t move, outstretched arm still held firm between me and Chris. “No. Ticket and phone.” The other guard closes in behind his partner, lifeless eyes unblinking.

Chris snaps his fingers in front of the bald guard’s eyes. He doesn’t blink or flinch, just keeps staring straight ahead as if Chris didn’t do anything. “Security is compelled. They did this on purpose.” Chris stares intently into the guard’s eyes, a yellow hue coloring his iris as he holds the guard’s gaze. His voice is commanding when he says, “Your shift has ended. You can go home now.”

The guard’s dazed stare doesn’t change.

Chris tsks and tries again. “You may leave now. You have no further business here.”

The guard doesn’t move, and there’s no change in his wax-like features. With a sigh, Chris looks at Bash. “Get everyone in line still to go home. There’s not gonna be a show tonight.”

Bash nods and walks casually towards the fans waiting in line to tell them to go home. Or compel them to leave. I’m not too sure which it is, and frankly, I don’t care as long as they’re safe.

Chris sighs and turns back to the guard. “You’re a real pain in my ass, dude. How is my compulsion not even working on you?”

“Ticket and phone. Or no entry.” The guard responds, deep voice monotonous.

I shiver, eyes still on Chris, when the crowd behind me in the venue cheers loudly as ominous music plays through the speakers. My head snaps around. I recognize that music; it was Soulstorm’s intro music two years ago too. Fuck. This is it. Soulstorm’s about to go on stage. Whatever’s going to happen, it’s about to go down now, I can feel it.

Panic curls in my stomach, turning my blood cold. I still haven’t even begun looking for Elijah, much less actually find him. I need to get him the fuck out of here before Oliver can see him. Before Oliver can find him and use him to get to me. I need to find Elijah right fucking now. I clench my teeth, knowing that I’m about to break the only promise Chris has asked of me. I’ll deal with the fallout of that later, though. I need to get to Elijah. With one last look at Chris, I nod and pivot on my foot. I don’t have time to wait for Chris to dick with this guard. I’m going to find Elijah with or without him. I’ll apologize later.

From behind me, I hear the sounds of a scuffle, but I don’t turn around. I can’t. I have literally one job tonight, and that’s to make sure Elijah is safe. That’s all that matters right now. “Fuck, Dani! No,” Chris shouts, “Just wait!”

I quicken my pace, practically sprinting into the rowdy crowd. Even though the band hasn’t even started playing, all the lights, even the lowlights usually around the bar, are shut off. It’s so dark in the main venue I can barely see in front of me; it’s only the emergency exit signs that are giving off any light at all. That little bit of light is all I need to see just how packed this place is. I’m at the back of the crowd and already having issues moving around. And, although the crowd is so big it should be deafening, the sound coming from the speakers is drowning out the cheers from the crowd. It makes it feel oddly lonely, despite the fact that this is the most people I’ve been around in literal years. Which is both traumatizing, given that I’ve been living my best life as a shut-in for the last two years, and horrifying because I can’t see Elijah anywhere . Despite being surrounded by people, I feel my body turn to ice with fear. I don’t know how I’m going to find him in this crowd.

I almost slump to the floor as my heart clenches in my chest, but I force myself to fucking move. This is Elijah. I can, and will, do anything for him—including getting my shit together enough to find him. I can fall apart later. With a burst of panic-riddled energy, I start shoving my way past people, curses rising behind me as I elbow, step on, and punch my way through the crowd. I don’t care anymore. Finding Elijah is my priority. The rest of these assholes can deal.

Think, Dani. Eli and I always stand outside of the center of the crowd, along the walls, and as far away from the moshpit as we can get. God, I fucking hope he stuck to our usual routine tonight. I don’t want to have to try and fight my way through this many people. Damn it, I can’t even see anything though. There’s no fucking way I can find him if he’s in the middle of this crowd. I breathe deeply, the scent of pot and sweat overwhelming my senses, as I try and calm myself enough to focus. I’m running on pure adrenaline now, barging my way to where the merch stands are set up on the far wall. It’s the best place to start the search, I rationalize, elbowing my way past a tight-knit group. Behind me, I distantly hear someone shout “stupid bitch” at me, but I keep moving. I have my mission–find Elijah and get him out safely. None of the rest of these fuckers matter.

A hand grabs my arm, and, in a panic, I shout as the person spins me to face them. I’m ready to fight, to defend myself, until I come face-to-face with a furious Chris.

“I thought I fucking told you to not leave my sight,” Chris shouts into my ear over the noise. “You fucking promised , Danica!” His brows are drawn tight over his nose as he stares down at me, his handsome face tense in anger.

Normally, I would happily banter with him, but we don’t have time for this. He can reprimand me later. “I need to find Eli!” I shout back at him, grabbing his hand and tugging him along behind me. His rage is prickling along my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the ice-cold fear running down my spine. I still can’t see Elijah. I need more fucking light than th-

Almost as if my thoughts summoned them, the venue lights rise, filling the space. I might actually be blind from the sudden illumination, because all I can see are black spots dotting my vision from all of the lights turning on at once. I squint, lifting my hand to cover my eyes, a movement mimicked by the majority of the crowd around me.

My eyes dart around, searching for any little glimpse of Elijah or his boy toy, Andrew. I squint, bouncing on my tiptoes to look around the rowdy fans—I’d love to magically grow a few inches taller to make this easier. It would probably help if I remembered what Andrew looked like. Elijah only showed me a picture of him once. Tall, muscular, blonde hair, blue eyes, handsome. Not helpful in the least. To be fair, I’m not sure Elijah was intending for it to help me mount a search party for Andrew, but nobody’s perfect. In my quick glances around us, my gaze catches on the stage. I frown in confusion. The stage is empty, not a single member of Soulstorm Serenade in sight. A cold chill runs through me just as the creepy intro music ends with a violin screech and a guitar strums.

Chris pulls me closer to him as I rise to my tiptoes, looking for Elijah’s familiar head of hair or a handsome blonde man. From the stage, I hear a melancholic tune, and I freeze, my body pressed against Chris’. I know this song. It’s mine, the one Oliver wrote for me. Or the song he claimed he wrote for me, although, given how everything turned out, it could have been for Hannah, the Whore—or whichever girl was his flavor that week.

The crowd goes wild, cheers and whistles echoing through the building. Some people are throwing their fists in the air in celebration, shaking them violently in anticipation for Soulstorm Serenade’s return.

In the middle of it all, I’m frozen, torn between staring up at the stage like a deer in headlights, and finding Elijah before Oliver can walk out onto the stage. I can’t move. I don’t know what to expect, Oliver was unpredictable before he vanished and has only gotten worse. Anything could happen right now, and no one has their phones to record it or call for help, except for me—but help is here. I just hope it’s enough. So many innocent fans are here, not knowing the horror that could be brought upon them tonight.

My jaw tightens. I can’t see Elijah, or Andrew, but maybe if I can get people out of here, I can clear some sort of path. Still held in the safety of Chris’ arms, I start shouting to the people surrounding me, “You all need to leave! You’re not safe here! You have to go!”

A couple near me and two big burly metalheads turn to look at me, but they just give me incredulous looks, like I’m crazy, before turning their attention back towards the stage. No one is listening to me, but I get it. I can’t say that I would listen if the roles were reversed. Okay. If I can’t get people to move, then it’s time for me to keep roaming, searching for Elijah.

I’ve finally convinced my feet to move, as I pull Chris along behind me when the band emerges onto the stage. Oliver walks out last, and my heart rate spikes to an alarming rate where it’s just a drumbeat in my head. I’m lightheaded, and I’m pretty sure that if Chris weren’t still holding me, I would have fainted. The crowd cheers and pushes, everyone wanting to get as close to the stage as they can.

“New York! It’s so fuckin’ good to be back here,” Oliver shouts, arms spread, wide grin extending across his face as he looks out at everyone. The crowd roars in response. “I figured it was time for a proper welcome home. I’m sure you’re all wondering what happened to us.” He licks his lips and continues, the audience hanging on every word he’s saying. “It’s quite a tragic story. You might think I’m taking the piss, but it’s true–I got my heart broken.”

The crowd boos. I even hear someone shout, “Danica Gray is a fucking bitch!” and an unoriginal chorus of “fuck her” rises from one group.

Oliver bobs his head to the guitar melody Travis is playing, his fingers tapping the tune against his thigh. “Unfortunately, that’s a tale for another night. Right now, we’re all here to fucking rock and have a bloody good time, aren’t we?”

The crowd cheers once more and surges towards the stage in excitement, taking me and Chris along with it. I was already uncomfortable with just being in the building. Now, carried forward by a crowd that’s naturally enthralled by Oliver’s dark charm, no vampiric magic required, I can feel my skin crawling. The only good thing with the switch in our position is I’m seeing a totally different area of the room, and I think I see a golden blonde head that may be Andrew.

Oliver’s voice rings out over the speaker system. “This song is dedicated to someone very dear to me, who has chosen to be with someone else. So, I decided to change up the lyrics a bit.” I glance up at the stage just in time to see Oliver’s head swivel in our direction, so that he’s looking directly at me and Chris. He doesn’t even scan the crowd for us, just turns his eyes on us like a beacon. He knows we’re here, has probably known where we were since we walked through the fucking door.

With a glare, Oliver jabs a finger in our direction. “This one’s for you, babe. You’ll never escape me.” His eyes darken with rage as he turns his attention to Chris, a devious smirk tilting his lips. Lit in the red and white stage lights, he looks ominous, a bloody god among men. “And you! Chris, Chris, Chris, look at you, you fuckin’ cunt, thinkin’ you can take what’s fuckin’ mine. I’m gonna take great pleasure ripping your teeth from your mouth, right in front of Dani. I may even make a necklace out of them and give them to her to wear between her beautiful fuckin’ tits.” He laughs loudly, an unsettling bark of sound, into the microphone.

I’m blind to almost everything, but the vampire on the stage—the man I used to love who broke my heart, who seems to have come back to destroy my sanity. He’s all I can see, all I can hear, and his angry stare drills into my brain. I’m almost lost to the fear when Chris squeezes my hand. Suddenly, I can breathe again, and I’m not drowning in Oliver’s eyes anymore. I squeeze Chris’ hand tighter, my heart beating fast as I realize just how close I came to losing sight of the reason I’m here.

Chris leans down, chin brushing against the side of my head as he speaks directly into my ear. “Stay close to me. This is going to get really bad. Promise me, kitten, and please actually keep the promise this time.” He’s begging me, hands bracketed around my arm so tightly I can tell just how hard he’s fighting himself to not just throw me over his shoulder and walk me to safety.

I turn my head to look at him, my own expression pleading. “I promise. But, Elijah, Chris, I have to find-”

Chris rests his forehead against mine, eyes focused on mine when he cuts me off. “We’ll find him–we will save him. I fucking swear to you, Dani.”

There’s absolutely no room for doubt in his voice, and despite every hang-up I have about trust and men, I believe him. I nod my head mutely in response, still obsessing over what Oliver just announced. What Oliver just threatened. My body trembles. It was one thing to assume he was capable of violence like that; it’s a whole other thing to face it head-on. I go to my tiptoes again, trying to catch another glimpse of the tall blonde man who may have been Andrew.

From the murmurs of the crowd around us, I can tell I’m not the only one struggling with Oliver’s words. Confused whispers rise around us, and, in a single moment, I feel the energy of the crowd shift from anticipation to unease until Oliver begins singing.

His voice is still incredible, harsh but melodic, but even though I’m overwhelmed by memories of him singing to me before, it’s his eyes, menacing and locked on Chris and I, that demand my attention. “A shattered heart, a soul in chains, lost in a world of darkness, I can’t escape this nightmare.” Oliver’s pitch is increasing with every word he sings, the music getting harder as the rest of the band joins in to support the song together. “I will take back what is mine. Bloodlust rising, the end is near!” Oliver screams into the microphone, his entire body hunching into the words.

The crowd is losing their minds, all unease from Oliver’s words before completely forgotten. People are head banging, jumping up and down, and a mosh pit has already formed in the center of the room. With all of the movement and the light, I finally have a clear view, and, almost in slow motion, I see Elijah across the room. Then the world goes back to normal speed, and I lose sight of my best friend. “Chris,” I gasp. I feel him turn back towards me. “ I saw him! Elijah! He’s over there. We have to go now!” I only just get out the final word when Oliver snarls the next line.

“It’s your flesh I crave, your fear I desire, blood- the eternal sin.” I inhale sharply, my hand flying to cover my mouth. This music is heavy, absolutely nothing like the song he wrote for me, and his lyrics are horrifying. This is his omen. His declaration of revenge. He wants blood, and he’s going to get it.

Chris pulls my hand, dragging me behind him through the crowd towards where I told him I saw Elijah. Fuck, I hope I didn’t just see what I wanted to see–my best friend alive and safe. I’m tripping over my feet as I follow Chris, my hand wrapped tightly, securely, in his. Unlike my early efforts, he uses his height and strength to our advantage, bulldozing through fans much more easily than I did.

We finally make it to the other side of the room, but I can’t see Elijah anywhere. He’s nowhere near where I thought I saw him. God, where the fuck is he? I’m desperately scanning around us for him when I catch sight of the bar about twenty feet away, people three deep surrounding it on all sides to place their orders. “The bar! Check the bar!” I shout at Chris, already surging towards it. I’m stopped by a wall of people, and Chris jumps in front of me, forcing his way through the crowd, tugging on my hand as we head in that direction. “Where’d your friends go?” I shout.

“They’re spread out around the building. Waiting,” he says over his shoulder.

We’re nearing the bar when I see Elijah standing off to the side with a handsome man I can only assume is Andrew. The muscles in my shoulders loosen in relief just at the sight of him, and I can’t stop the cry of happiness I let out, just knowing he’s okay. Dropping Chris’ hand, I rush towards Elijah, grabbing him in a tight hug before pulling back and gripping his hands. “Thank god you’re okay!” My world has narrowed, and although I know we need to get the hell out of here, I’m just so happy to see Elijah.

“Dani? What are you doing here?” He tilts his head as I feel Chris walks up behind me, his eyes going wide as he sees who I’m here with. “With Chris, hmm? That is an interesting twist,” he says, placing the straw of his fruity mixed drink into his mouth and taking a deep sip.

I could almost laugh in delight at Elijah being so very… Elijah, but a nudge from Chris reminds me that finding Elijah was only the first part of the plan. “Yeah, I’ll explain that part later. But right now, we need to get the hell out of here. Now!” I yell. “We need to go! Also, hi, Andrew.” Apparently, my manners are obliterated because I give him an awkward wave before turning back to Elijah.

“Chill out, sweet cheeks. We can leave in a few songs. They’re just getting started.” Elijah stops talking just as the song ends. I pull at his hands, and he begrudgingly starts to follow me just as Oliver laughs into the microphone once more.

This time his laugh is manic, wild, and deeper than I’ve ever heard it. As one, we turn towards the stage. Under the lights, Soulstorm are all different, their faces contorted in the vampire appearance that I’ll never get used to seeing. Oliver’s eyes shine orange under the lights, while the rest of the band’s eyes are the same red as Amanda’s. I have a small moment of clarity, where I think that I’ll have to ask Chris why Oliver’s eyes are different than the rest of his band’s, before Oliver hisses into the mic, “Welcome to your grave, motherfuckers,” and the crowd erupts in terrified shouts. “Ah, I love this part–the screams. No one is going to save you.”

People are shoving and pushing, some already trying to force their way out of the small venue. Across the room, shrill screams ring out. I glance quickly back at Oliver, only to see that Travis and Matt are no longer on stage.

Chris has my upper arm in a tight grip, his jaw tense, eyes wary. “We need to get the fuck out of here, Dani!” I nod at him, and he looks over my head to Elijah and Andrew, who look thoroughly confused. “I’m getting you all out of here!” He lowers his voice, so only I can hear him. “And then I’m coming back in to stop this.”

The screaming is getting louder, echoing through the small space. It’s a blood-curdling sound of pure terror, and it’s almost worse that I can’t actually see what’s happening, I can only imagine it. Although I want nothing more than to just curl up on the ground and cry myself hoarse in terror, we need to leave. Now. I can and will panic later. “Let’s go!” I shout.

Chris tilts his head towards the doors, and, as a group, we sprint towards them, pushing our way through the panicking crowd. People are storming the exits around us, surging towards the doors. A woman beside me cries out as a rogue elbow strikes her head, and she goes down under the feet of the people behind her. I gag, wanting to help her but knowing that my main priority has to be getting Elijah and Andrew to safety. I can’t save everybody, but I can save them.

As we near the main entrance doors, Chris moves in front of us, putting his arm out and stopping us so suddenly that I smash into his back, Elijah and Andrew pulling up just in time to avoid running into me. I peek around Chris’ elbow to see what’s going on and nearly pass out at the sight of the monster in front of us.

Travis blocks the entrance, blood smeared across his face and dripping from his mouth, white tee so covered in gore that it looks like it was originally a red shirt. His hair is soaked in blood, red rivulets running through the stains on his face.

A menacing smile warps his lips as he notices us, an eerie laugh emerging as he moves towards us.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a slim woman in a white dress tearing along the edge of the room towards the door. She’s glancing over her shoulder, terror masking her face as she sprints, not paying any attention to where she’s running. She’s making a beeline directly towards Travis. I start to cry out, a desperate attempt to tell her to slow down and turn around, but it doesn’t get out before she runs straight into him. Blood is splattered through her face and hair, dripping down onto her white dress.

The force of her slam into Travis nearly knocks her off her feet, but he grabs her by her arms before she can fall, steadying her against him almost gently. Her mouth opens, but then she gets a look at his face, and her scream tears from somewhere deep in her soul.

The sound curdles my blood, and I know I’m going to hear it in my nightmares for the rest of my life. I also know that can’t let her die while I’m standing here doing nothing. I can’t just watch her be fucking murdered. I lurch forward, pushing around Chris, but he grabs my waist in his hands and practically tosses me behind him with a snarled, “No, Dani! Don’t you dare put yourself in between them!” I struggle against Chris, desperate to do something, anything, when I see Travis, in one swift movement, drop his mouth to her neck, bite down hard, and tear his mouth free. He gives us a casual look, as he grips her flayed skin and a muscle still connected to her neck in his teeth.

A huge wound gapes in the side of the girl’s neck, blood pouring down her shoulder, coating her skin. The girl’s screams become more panicked, now a shrill cry more than anything else. She’s looking directly at me, tears drenching her face as her eyes connect with mine—just in time for me to see the life drain from her eyes as Travis sinks his teeth into the front of her neck, tearing out her larynx and spitting it on the floor before us like the world’s worst fucking gift. She’s only just stopped screaming when he dumps her lifeless body to the floor beside him, he licks his lips, and continues prowling towards us.

I can feel bile burning the back of my throat, and I try desperately to choke my vomit back down. I can’t look away from the woman lying on the floor, her hand outstretched towards me, palm facing up. I don’t want to see this, but I’m frozen, staring at the corpse in the white dress in front of me. I can’t even lift my eyes to the vampire stalking towards us, but, fortunately, Chris doesn’t share that problem. He’s forcing us backward, his back tense against me even as his hand curls protectively around mine.

From behind us, Oliver’s voice rises through the speakers as he yells into the microphone. “Kill them all, but leave Chris and Dani for me. In Balor’s name, we feed.” A short laugh echoes through the room, and I spin as he bares his teeth and, in a gruesome mimicry of his normal concert sign-off, shouts, “This might be my favorite performance yet! Thank you, New York!” before dropping the mic to the floor. It thuds loudly against the stage.

Travis chuckles, bringing my attention back to him. He stops only feet away from us and crosses his arms. I know what Oliver ordered, and I know that there will be hell to pay for Travis if he lays a hand on me or Chris, but Elijah and Andrew are still here. I’m tugging at Chris’ hand, trying to indicate we should make a break for it when the room goes dark again.

In the darkness, Chris turns around and lifts me so I’m straddling him, pulling me off the ground just before a hysterical man slams into us and bounces away. I can’t see fucking anything, but I can hear everything. Screaming. Ripping. Tearing. It’s like they’re ripping people apart, limb by limb. I choke back a cry, burying my head in Chris’ chest.

The emergency lights pop on, just as strobe lights go off, bringing some light into the room. There’s blood everywhere, bodies strewn across the floor. A man lies on the floor near us, his throat slashed open, blood bubbling out of the wound as he gasps his last breaths. I’m openly crying, drenching Chris’ shirt in tears, but I can finally see Elijah. I’m reaching towards him to bring him closer, away from the dead people surrounding us, when Elijah screams and takes off. “Elijah, no,” I shriek, my hand still extended towards where he was just seconds before.

Elijah swerves around bodies, his screams floating back to us. “Wait, Andrew! No!”

I feel Chris’ hand whip forward, outstretching in Elijah’s direction. Elijah is frozen in place, and without breaking concentration, his feet begin moving in Elijah’s direction—before another fear-stricken member of the crowd runs right into Chris’ arm and falls on the ground with a loud wail. Pulling my gaze from the fan crying on the floor, I realize that action broke Chris’ hold on Elijah.

“Chris, we have to follow!” I beg, and, without a question, without any word other than a grunt, he takes off with me in his arms to retrieve my best friend.

We wind our way past absolute carnage, past blood, and gore until we finally make it to Elijah’s side, where he’s shouting at Adrian, a man that Elijah and I used to call a friend when we all hung out together. Now, though, Elijah is on the verge of tears, screaming at him, his voice cracking. Through the maddening strobe lights, I can see glimpses of Adrian holding Andrew by the throat with one hand, the other resting lightly on Andrew’s chest. “Elijah,” I yell, trying to get his attention back to me. “Elijah, please!”

“Adrian! Let him go right now! What the fuck is wrong with all of you!” Elijah shouts. His hair is disheveled, and his eyes are wild. “Adrian, let him fucking go!” His words are an order, but his tone is pleading.

Adrian tilts his head to the side and smiles coldly, eyes narrowed on Elijah. With a laugh that raises the hair on my arms, he plunges his hand into Andrew’s chest and, with a twist of his wrist, rips his heart out. His hand emerges from Andrew’s chest, clutching the heart, and with a wicked grin, Adrian lets go of his grip around Andrew’s neck, letting his body fall to the floor. With a shrug, Adrian tosses Andrew’s heart aside, lifting his hand to his mouth and licking the blood away.

A keening cry sounds from beside me, coming from deep in my best friend’s chest as his knees buckle. “No! Andrew!” Elijah sobs, eyes locked on his lover’s body.

Adrian is in front of Elijah in the blink of an eye, grasping one of Elijah’s shoulders and tugging him back to his feet. Elijah doesn’t move, still staring unblinking at Andrew’s corpse. “I gotta admit, mate, I’ve always wanted to taste you.” Adrian cranks Elijah’s head to the side like he’s about to sink his teeth into his neck, but stops just as Chris’ hand shoots around my back and clenches in a fist. Adrian drops to his knees, shrieking in pain, as Chris does god only knows what to his blood with his power.

A shadow moves from behind Adrian, and I flinch, expecting Travis or, god forbid, Oliver, but instead, Bash steps forward, a furious glint in his eye. Gripping Adrian’s hair, Bash tugs his head back until they’re face to face. Adrian spits blood at Bash, but that seems to be the limit of his movement under Chris’ powers. “An eye for an eye, bitch,” Bash sneers, punching into Adrian’s own chest and tearing his heart out. Without even glancing at the organ in his hand, Bash tosses Adrian’s heart onto the floor, brings his foot up, and stomps on it, sending out a spray of blood. “Or heart for a heart, but whatever. Same difference.” Bash smiles at Adrian like they were just having a nice chat.

Adrian’s body seizes, his skin graying and emitting smoke. As he drops to the floor, his body detonates in a flurry of ash and smoke that explodes outward. Adrian ceases to exist, and nothing remains of my old friend but a charred pile where a body used to lay.

My hands fly to my mouth as I let out a strangled gasp. Before all of this, Adrian was my friend. I’ve known him for years, and he was never like this. He would never have hurt a fly when I knew him, much less rip a man’s heart from his chest. This, whatever he became after they vanished, was never him. This is all so fucked up. Chris’ hand resting on my back where he’s still carrying me is the only thing that’s keeping me together.

Chris nods at Bash, and without a word, Bash throws himself back into the massacre occurring behind us. The screams are getting quieter, but I’m too scared to see what’s happening. I’ve seen too much blood, and death, and horror tonight to be able to take any more. Selfishly, I want nothing more than to just stay here, wrapped around Chris with his body protecting me from everything, but Elijah’s heart-wrenching cry as he crumples to the ground means more to me than my own self-centered desires.

I unwrap myself from Chris’ hold, dropping to the ground beside my best friend and hold him as he falls apart. His sobs are hard and fast, his arms wrapped around his torso like they’re the only thing keeping him together. Fresh tears fall down my face as I watch Elijah, my best friend and the strongest person I know, self-destruct.

“We need to move,” Chris says urgently to Eli and I, ushering us towards the emergency exit near the stage. We’re nearly there when Oliver steps in front of us.

Oliver tsks at us, shaking his head like we’re the problem, as he blocks our way out. “Now you’ve really gone and pissed me off, mate. I will fucking rip you apart,” Oliver says in an unnervingly calm voice. His eyes are absolutely wild, still glowing orange, with his fangs on display.

“Likewise, mate.” Chris wastes no time extending his hand and using his power against Oliver.

Oliver shouts in pain, gripping his head and screaming. But he stills as Chris gets closer to him, then drops his hands from his ears and looks up at Chris with deathly calm. “I’ve learned some new tricks since we last met.” Shadows gather along Oliver’s arms, enshrouding him in what looks like thick black smoke, visible even with the strobe lights still going off around us.

With a small reach of his hand, the black smoke flows down Oliver’s arm, past his hand, to wrap around Chris’ throat. In a single sharp motion, Oliver yanks his hand back, sending Chris flying through the air and skidding across the stage where he crashes into the drum kit.

I want to run to Chris to make sure he’s okay—I blink away tears, rushing to break free as I make the split-second decision that I can’t leave Elijah. I want to look to the stage and make sure that he is alright, but I can’t take my eyes off Oliver.

“Hello, pet.” He chuckles as he stalks closer to us. “Did you miss me?”

My fingers tighten around Elijah’s hand, and Oliver doesn’t miss the movement.

“Dani, what the fuck is going on?” Elijah whimpers, clutching my hand for dear life. He’s shaking like a leaf beside me, trembling so hard I can hear his teeth clicking together.

Elijah’s shock is what gives me the courage to stand up, taking a small step towards Oliver, even though Elijah is trying to tug me back, small mewls of pain carrying to where I’m standing. “It’s me you want, Oliver. Leave Elijah and the rest of these people alone. Just take me and be done with it. I’ll go with you without a fight.” I’m trying to sound as confident as possible, but my trembling body and muscles tight with fear betray me.

“Oh, my sweet pet, I’ll be taking you with me, but there will be no other survivors. Balor wants none left standing.” He takes that final step towards me, grabbing my arm and crushing me into his embrace. I can’t help the frightened squeak that rips out of me. Oliver brings his hand to my face, caressing my tear-soaked cheek with the pad of his thumb, wiping away the tears and gore that stain my skin. “You are so beautiful,” he murmurs almost to no one. In that one second, holding me to him, he almost looks peaceful.

Then everything changes. Oliver freezes in place, eyes, ears, nose, and mouth dripping blood. His face contorts in pain, a vein popping in his forehead. The blood vessels in his eyes burst, and, with a howl, he lets go of his hold on me and drops to his knees.

I scramble away from him, looking up to the stage where Chris has both arms extended towards Oliver, a murderous set to his features.

I stumble backward, tripping over a severed leg, and fall to the bloody floor, crawling back towards where Elijah is still curled hopelessly. “Elijah, we have to go,” I whisper urgently, eyes scanning the room for Travis or Noah, barely seeing anything but the bloody carnage and body parts cast about the room. I shove myself to my feet, grabbing Elijah and forcing him towards the stage, towards Chris.

Benji and Bash have gathered in the room, laser focused on taking Oliver to his knees with their combined power. As a unit, they overpower him.

“I told you, asshole. If you touch her, I will fucking kill you. Did you think I was fucking kidding?” Chris snarls as I shove Elijah onto the stage, climbing up behind him and crawling to Chris.

Cade and Tyler fight with Matt and Travis, distracting them from the small group of people huddled in the corner, sobbing and soaked in blood. They’re holding each other, their heads tilted down. Even from over here, I can hear somebody reciting the Our Father, through tears while someone else gasps in pain.

“Chris, we need to stop this now and get these people out of here,” I rasp, as I point to the nearest exit.

A small sound rings from the rafters above us, drawing my attention upward in time to see Noah dropping from the ceiling, arms outstretched like a bat, only feet from us. At the distraction, Chris’ concentration on Oliver breaks, and he turns his attention to Noah, swinging a fist at him.

Noah blocks the punch but shoves ineffectively at Chris before jumping off the stage and racing towards Oliver. “Oi! We need to leave,” Noah shouts at Oliver, even though Oliver is barely conscious in a pool of his own blood. “Matt! Travis! Adrian! Get your arses out of here!” I suck in an unexpected gasp, hearing Noah call for Adrian—they don’t realize he’s dead yet.

Cade and Tyler move towards Noah and Oliver, eyes blazing with hate.

“This isn’t fucking over, cunts! We will bleed you all dry!” Noah shouts right before he grabs Oliver’s limp body, disappearing into the black mist. Matt and Travis follow suit and disappear right after them, leaving only the seven of us and the band of survivors—compared to the swarm of people before, there can’t be more than a hundred people left standing.

I’m shaking, my breath emerging in short, uncontrolled gasps, but I’m more focused on Elijah than me. Elijah, who carried me through the last two years, Elijah who was always there for me, Elijah who’s now just sitting hopelessly on the stage, crying silently. I drag myself toward him and tug him into an embrace, cradling him in my arms as he weeps into the shoulder of my sweater, and I cry softly into his hair.

“We need to compel the survivors and call in cleanup,” Chris orders Bash and Benji, in a commanding tone that offers no room for argument. They both nod in agreement. “Ty, call for the cleaners. The rest of us will work on the survivors and get them out of here.” He turns back to me and Elijah and, in a softer voice, says, “Let me get you both out of here. You don’t need to see this.” I can feel Chris’ eyes on me, but I can barely see through the tears clouding my vision.

I grab Elijah’s hand, and we follow Chris towards the main doors, walking close together the same way we did when we were kids after we had a bad day at school. But we could never have imagined any of this when we were children—the carnage left in the wake of the concert. They massacred these people. Throats are ripped open. Body parts are strewn around the room. Blood spills down the walls, coating the floor, soaking every single object and person in the room.

I knew tonight was going to be bad, but I never expected anything like this. This was far beyond my wildest nightmares. Now we know what Oliver is really capable of, even though it seems like he may have just been the mastermind of Balor’s plan because I didn’t see any blood on him. Regardless, it doesn’t matter. With what he did tonight, he’s truly gone. My heart aches at the thought of who he was, or at least who I thought he was, before he disappeared. I can still hear Matt, Noah, Travis, and Adrian’s voices in my head when they pulled together a song. I remember the people they once were, who are no longer there. They just murdered hundreds of excited fans and left them like bloodied garbage without a care in the world. They’re all monsters now. As I follow Chris out of the venue, Elijah trudging beside me, I cry for the men they were before. I cry for Andrew and all of the lives lost tonight–and for the life that Elijah and I will be leaving behind. Everything is different now–it will never be the same after tonight.