Nocturne No. 3: Arm Wrestling
General Summary
Oct. 31, 1994 - Monday
Missoula, MT
Jerry Adkins usually didn't show up to these kind of concerts, the music was always so loud and the venue was a good hour's drive away from the university. But his students insisted on doing something big for Halloween, promising that this show wouldn't be just another Nirvana copycat garage band. The band thrashed away at their instruments with a passion, but the sound didn't do much for him (too much punk and not enough rock). He closed his tab and tried to make a quick exit before the last set, but a thin brunette girl dressed up like a skeleton tapped him on the shoulder. "What do you think of the show?" Aimee asked over the din, smiling through the white and black facepaint. Jerry recognized her from his morning lectures, she'd been one of the most vocal to have him come along to the show. "It was quite a spectacle, I'll say that much," Jerry grimaced, glancing over at the exit. "I think I stopped keeping up with new music after Lennon died, but this group does seem to have a good bit of energy." "Mountains of Madness is my favorite!" Aimee exulted, watching as the band roared through another verse. "The lead singer used to be part of a different group before this called the Whisperers in the Dark, but I love the sound of the new group so much more." "I guess it's an aquired taste," Jerry said as he moved towards the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, be sure to look over the anatomy notes before the group discussion." "Professor, why are you leaving so soon?" Aimee said, grabbing Jerry's arm as he walked past. "It's Halloween, you should stick around for the afterparty at least!" "At my age, I'm already a couple hours past my curfew. It's always nice to be invited to events like this, but I'm afraid I'll only be cramping your style if I stay any longer." Aimee laughed. "You're not giving yourself enough credit! I was talking to the Mountains of Madness' lead singer before the show, and she said that she was a big fan of your old group!" Jerry stopped in his tracks. The Mountains had just finished up their final song, a couple of groupies were already on stage dismantling equipment . "I thought I'd been doing a good job of keeping my old life a secret," Jerry said, turning to face Aimee. "How'd they even find any of Voidheart's old records? The last time I saw one in a record store was more than half a decade ago." "Guess you'll have to ask them yourself!" Aimee smiled, moving towards the back half of the bar. "They're hanging out in the green room watching horror movies, just have one drink with them before heading out!" Jerry stood there for a moment, crowds of students and concertgoers milling out into the cool Montana air. He thought about the papers waiting for grades back home, the work ahead of him as finals drew closer and closer. But when was the last time he'd talked to a Voidheart fan? Picking up another beer from the bar, he walked down the hallway towards the green room. A worn-out couch, a TV from the 70's, a couple dressing tables and a million band posters were all that decorated this small room. Half a dozen intimidating-looking rockers and groupies hung around the room, Aimee perched on the couch's arm next to the Mountains' lead singer. She looked like a blend of glam rock and garage band, torn black jeans with a sequined leather jacket. Bright silvery studs glistened from her gloves. "So I hear there are some Voidheart fans in the group," Jerry remarked, looking around the room. "Were some of your parents big fans or did you happen to find one of my records somewheere?" Nobody replied, all the groupies and bandmates glaring at him from behind thick layers of eye shadow. Jerry glanced over at Aimee, but she wouldn't make eye contact with him. A horror movie played on the old TV, Freddy Krueger was eviscerating some kid with magic powers. "Got any favorite songs? It's getting late, but if you have a guitar I can borrow I can play a couple hits before I go." Jerry tried walking away as he said this, but he bumped into a groupie that now stood in front of the only door out of the green room. Finally, the lead singer leaned forward in her seat and stared at Jerry with a cold glare. "There's an old one I heard you used to perform, it went something like 'I can fix anything with magic?'" Jerry froze in place, the blood rushing from his face. "How-" "If you're trying to hide your mage identity I would've gone with something other than your old band name," Eva cut him off, moving from the couch and stalking towards him. Jerry tried to back away but a couple more groupies appeared behind him. "I'm really not sure what you're talking about," Jerry sputtered, "I think the closest I ever got to the occult was a cover of 'Season of the Witch'!" He felt the sharp stinge of a blade slash into the back of his legs, dropping him to the ground before he even had time to scream. His eyes darted around the room, the Whisperers looming overhead and slowly encircling him. Aimee stood at his feet, holding a machete with fresh blood dripping from its blade. "We've been hearing rumors about a magician in these parts for months, and Aimee had to suffer through a couple months of your lectures to confirm it all." The lead singer said, crouching down right into Jerry's face. "Now you can keep playing dumb and lose a bit more blood, or you can just give us what we want and we'll be on our way." He winced from the pain, trying to a whisper a quick incantation to mend the gash but nothing materialized. Too many eyes, too many sleepers, he didn't have the energy to spare to amplify the magic. "I left that life years ago when I moved out of San Francisco," Jerry groaned, staring up at the singer as sweat from the pain started to drip into his eyes. "I'll give you whatever you want, just let me go home to my wife." The lead singer said nothing as she took off the black leather glove on her right hand, revealing a prosthetic cracked and stiff with age. She moved it in front of his face, letting him take in every detail as she asked. "Can you heal this with your magic?" It took all of Jerry's self-control to suppress a laugh, coughing while he processed such a foolish request. "Give me a month and maybe make you a spare, I haven't done magic like the kind you're asking for since the 60's." He felt the sting of the prosthetic's stiff plastic while the lead singer glared at him. "It took a magician seconds to turn my hand to dust, why do I have to wait a month for you to make me a new one?" "Your magician friend had no idea what they were doing, just speaking some words and wiggling your fingers leaves you with nothing but a mess on your hands. Real magic takes preparation and patience, especially if I have to repair the mess like the one you're dealing with." There was silence in the room after Jerry spoke, sensing an opening he continued his explanation. "Maybe there's some mage out there strong enough to fix your hand in a single business day, but I'm just a hedge wizard for Christ's sake. The most I use my magic for is to make sure my plants don't die in the winter, go to San Francisco if you're looking for some real power." The lead singer and the rest of her entourage stayed silent as Jerry kept digging his own grave, babbling away until he felt another stabbing pain from Aimee's machete. Distracted by the gaping wound in his midsection, he barely even noticed Eva's leather boot crashing straight into his face. Aimee watched as Eva let out all her rage and fury, her frustration at a world made of rules designed only to cause suffering. Eva stood there sweating and heaving from the exertion while the groupies cleaned up what was left of Jerry, Aimee stepping over to her side and putting a comforting hand on Eva's back. On the TV somebody was digging a grave in an auto junkyard. "We've got some some extra days left in our spring tour," Aimee after she felt Eva's breathing start to calm. "I'm sure we can find somewhere in San Francisco for a couple of shows?" Eva took a deep breath, looking down at Aimee and smiling for the first time all night. They'd survived so much together, so many horrors lurking in the shadows just on the edges of their world. Jerry wasn't the last monster they'd have to deal with, but together they could take on anything. Freddy Krueger burned with a violent radiant light as he finally met his match, meanwhile Aimee and Eva helped the groupies prepare for their trip to California and the next leg of their monster-hunting spree.
Missoula, MT
Jerry Adkins usually didn't show up to these kind of concerts, the music was always so loud and the venue was a good hour's drive away from the university. But his students insisted on doing something big for Halloween, promising that this show wouldn't be just another Nirvana copycat garage band. The band thrashed away at their instruments with a passion, but the sound didn't do much for him (too much punk and not enough rock). He closed his tab and tried to make a quick exit before the last set, but a thin brunette girl dressed up like a skeleton tapped him on the shoulder. "What do you think of the show?" Aimee asked over the din, smiling through the white and black facepaint. Jerry recognized her from his morning lectures, she'd been one of the most vocal to have him come along to the show. "It was quite a spectacle, I'll say that much," Jerry grimaced, glancing over at the exit. "I think I stopped keeping up with new music after Lennon died, but this group does seem to have a good bit of energy." "Mountains of Madness is my favorite!" Aimee exulted, watching as the band roared through another verse. "The lead singer used to be part of a different group before this called the Whisperers in the Dark, but I love the sound of the new group so much more." "I guess it's an aquired taste," Jerry said as he moved towards the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, be sure to look over the anatomy notes before the group discussion." "Professor, why are you leaving so soon?" Aimee said, grabbing Jerry's arm as he walked past. "It's Halloween, you should stick around for the afterparty at least!" "At my age, I'm already a couple hours past my curfew. It's always nice to be invited to events like this, but I'm afraid I'll only be cramping your style if I stay any longer." Aimee laughed. "You're not giving yourself enough credit! I was talking to the Mountains of Madness' lead singer before the show, and she said that she was a big fan of your old group!" Jerry stopped in his tracks. The Mountains had just finished up their final song, a couple of groupies were already on stage dismantling equipment . "I thought I'd been doing a good job of keeping my old life a secret," Jerry said, turning to face Aimee. "How'd they even find any of Voidheart's old records? The last time I saw one in a record store was more than half a decade ago." "Guess you'll have to ask them yourself!" Aimee smiled, moving towards the back half of the bar. "They're hanging out in the green room watching horror movies, just have one drink with them before heading out!" Jerry stood there for a moment, crowds of students and concertgoers milling out into the cool Montana air. He thought about the papers waiting for grades back home, the work ahead of him as finals drew closer and closer. But when was the last time he'd talked to a Voidheart fan? Picking up another beer from the bar, he walked down the hallway towards the green room. A worn-out couch, a TV from the 70's, a couple dressing tables and a million band posters were all that decorated this small room. Half a dozen intimidating-looking rockers and groupies hung around the room, Aimee perched on the couch's arm next to the Mountains' lead singer. She looked like a blend of glam rock and garage band, torn black jeans with a sequined leather jacket. Bright silvery studs glistened from her gloves. "So I hear there are some Voidheart fans in the group," Jerry remarked, looking around the room. "Were some of your parents big fans or did you happen to find one of my records somewheere?" Nobody replied, all the groupies and bandmates glaring at him from behind thick layers of eye shadow. Jerry glanced over at Aimee, but she wouldn't make eye contact with him. A horror movie played on the old TV, Freddy Krueger was eviscerating some kid with magic powers. "Got any favorite songs? It's getting late, but if you have a guitar I can borrow I can play a couple hits before I go." Jerry tried walking away as he said this, but he bumped into a groupie that now stood in front of the only door out of the green room. Finally, the lead singer leaned forward in her seat and stared at Jerry with a cold glare. "There's an old one I heard you used to perform, it went something like 'I can fix anything with magic?'" Jerry froze in place, the blood rushing from his face. "How-" "If you're trying to hide your mage identity I would've gone with something other than your old band name," Eva cut him off, moving from the couch and stalking towards him. Jerry tried to back away but a couple more groupies appeared behind him. "I'm really not sure what you're talking about," Jerry sputtered, "I think the closest I ever got to the occult was a cover of 'Season of the Witch'!" He felt the sharp stinge of a blade slash into the back of his legs, dropping him to the ground before he even had time to scream. His eyes darted around the room, the Whisperers looming overhead and slowly encircling him. Aimee stood at his feet, holding a machete with fresh blood dripping from its blade. "We've been hearing rumors about a magician in these parts for months, and Aimee had to suffer through a couple months of your lectures to confirm it all." The lead singer said, crouching down right into Jerry's face. "Now you can keep playing dumb and lose a bit more blood, or you can just give us what we want and we'll be on our way." He winced from the pain, trying to a whisper a quick incantation to mend the gash but nothing materialized. Too many eyes, too many sleepers, he didn't have the energy to spare to amplify the magic. "I left that life years ago when I moved out of San Francisco," Jerry groaned, staring up at the singer as sweat from the pain started to drip into his eyes. "I'll give you whatever you want, just let me go home to my wife." The lead singer said nothing as she took off the black leather glove on her right hand, revealing a prosthetic cracked and stiff with age. She moved it in front of his face, letting him take in every detail as she asked. "Can you heal this with your magic?" It took all of Jerry's self-control to suppress a laugh, coughing while he processed such a foolish request. "Give me a month and maybe make you a spare, I haven't done magic like the kind you're asking for since the 60's." He felt the sting of the prosthetic's stiff plastic while the lead singer glared at him. "It took a magician seconds to turn my hand to dust, why do I have to wait a month for you to make me a new one?" "Your magician friend had no idea what they were doing, just speaking some words and wiggling your fingers leaves you with nothing but a mess on your hands. Real magic takes preparation and patience, especially if I have to repair the mess like the one you're dealing with." There was silence in the room after Jerry spoke, sensing an opening he continued his explanation. "Maybe there's some mage out there strong enough to fix your hand in a single business day, but I'm just a hedge wizard for Christ's sake. The most I use my magic for is to make sure my plants don't die in the winter, go to San Francisco if you're looking for some real power." The lead singer and the rest of her entourage stayed silent as Jerry kept digging his own grave, babbling away until he felt another stabbing pain from Aimee's machete. Distracted by the gaping wound in his midsection, he barely even noticed Eva's leather boot crashing straight into his face. Aimee watched as Eva let out all her rage and fury, her frustration at a world made of rules designed only to cause suffering. Eva stood there sweating and heaving from the exertion while the groupies cleaned up what was left of Jerry, Aimee stepping over to her side and putting a comforting hand on Eva's back. On the TV somebody was digging a grave in an auto junkyard. "We've got some some extra days left in our spring tour," Aimee after she felt Eva's breathing start to calm. "I'm sure we can find somewhere in San Francisco for a couple of shows?" Eva took a deep breath, looking down at Aimee and smiling for the first time all night. They'd survived so much together, so many horrors lurking in the shadows just on the edges of their world. Jerry wasn't the last monster they'd have to deal with, but together they could take on anything. Freddy Krueger burned with a violent radiant light as he finally met his match, meanwhile Aimee and Eva helped the groupies prepare for their trip to California and the next leg of their monster-hunting spree.
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