A stage lights up. Three band members. Karissa plays a tempo and leans into the microphone.
'Haunted Hills Northern Hollywood'
Where the gallows are so popular
'Welcoming Ourselves Inn'
Cyclist on the wheels labeled: Progress
Good night, We believe in a 'good' night
Good night, We believe in a 'good night'
I saw the devil once, he dressed casual
Wearing the lover's facials, 1's and 0's
Blown glass heart on a scarf-
Karissa steps off the stage. A vision in the limelight. The makeup hides her bags, bangs promise a spark in the darkness. Walkin' onto the steel shell in a hurry. She sets her translucent cherry-oak bass guitar on its stand on the nightstand, pressin' a button, puttin' it in its storage box. The bus comes to life. She sprints out before she is trapped inside, the livin' room table almost sendin' her out the door in a dive.
Her mind is a punk rock song, you can tell it in her sashay, fluid through the crowded streets of fans. Cameras flash. She signs some autographs, makin' her way to the dressin' room. She steps in a tube. And another tube opens. Fallin' outside onto the floor is a vomitin' clone. The distraction. It walks out and leads the fans away. It will probably be jello in thirty minutes.
She and the other members sneak out into the city, the two misfits loadin' into a taxi. "Should come out with us Kass, nurture that inner you. You been killing it. Maybe milk that." Tony has what he always has on his mind. Money.
"I have my own body art. Thanks though." Karissa starts a jog down the street. Pullin' some earbuds out, she cranks some music. A few blocks quickly reveal what neighborhood she has stumbled into. Gunshots in the distance. Home.
She enters the laundromat, uploadin' her Closet Disk, file appears on the monitor. It creates the pop-up folder with her closet. She presses a button, droppin' the clothes in the washer. Her hands shoot out and press the buttons fast, years flowin' through her veins in repetitive movements. Her eyes dart left and right as she pulls out a small notebook. Her pen click is silent compared to the machines around her.
Washin' my clothes to look cleaner
Fingernails hold the evidence
"What an easy arrest." A voice coos soft but assertive.
"I-I, look it isn't what it-" The police officer's fingers snag the notebook from Karissa's fingertips.
The cop reads a few pages, a smile curlin' the edges of her already sly grin. "Rebellious." The officer inserts the tiny book in her back pocket. "I suggest you follow me. See how much of a troublemaker you really are. You can call me Clarify."
They exit into showers, a couple of blocks later, with cuffs on, Karissa follows close to Clarify. A break in the storm. All the alleys watch. This could affect her music. Karissa stops. "What is this? What are you goin' to do to me?"
You can hear the guns click back in the darkness. Eyes and teeth are illuminated by blacklight. Clarify turns slowly, drawin' a pistol that makes the entire population who sees it step back. Agent weaponry. A pink glowin' gun with a cute voice chimes, "Active Verdict: Guilty, beg with innocence." Whirrin' violently, Clarify's eyes glow neon green.
"I'll go peaceful. Sorry. Sorry." Karissa catches up to her arrestin' officer in a hurry.
Then, a walkie cuts the butter, "-need an ambulance-" Clarify's fingers snap. Karissa is pulled to her side, hoverin' off the ground.
"Need you to stay close. Have an agent down. Wouldn't want you strayin' too far away." Karissa groans as the shackles seem to snap tighter. Clarify's voice is soft and sweetened. "Moving in at rear." They sneak in through a hole in the fence.
Clarify's gaze bores into Karissa's. "Stay right here." The clasps on Karissa's wrists slam into the ground, holdin' her there as Clarify slides into the doorway.
Karissa pulls at her bindings, mutterin', "Why didn't I just go to the bar with the band?" Karissa grunts as she lands on her buttocks, a small cloud of dust risin' from the impact. "Fuck!"
Gunfire breaks out on the other side of the threshold. What sounds like Clarify's voice shrieks, then is abruptly cut silent in a gurglin' noise as something wet hits the ground.
"Oh, shit… Shit shit…" Karissa pulls as hard as she can, to no effect. A sound is comin' closer. Draggin'. A hand comes into view. She sits quietly as it crawls past. The severed ligament jiggles with each pull.
Karissa winces, keepin' her eyes closed. Her whimpers are muffled, until she doesn't hear anythin' anymore but the rain. When she opens her eyes, she sees the blood trail leadin' into the sewer before water washes it away.
Karissa keeps starin' at that grate. She hears a noise to her right. Head turns and it all goes black and spotty. She can taste it.