Disclaimer: I don't own The Rocky Horror Picture Show

A/N: Here's the first story I've written in what feels like forever. It's about a lonely girl (called Nell Rigby) who lives at the church Betty and Ralph marry at, and her interactions with the Transylvanians. Her name and her guardian's name are both from the song Eleanor Rigby by the Beatles. I suppose people were going to guess that anyway. The first half of this chapter is about her backstory, while the second is about the Transylvanians. Columbia should show up soon enough

Nell Rigby will probably be a foil to Columbia. No matter what she'll provide an obstacle for . Since she's something of a horrible person at times and not well liked I really don't think she's a Mary Sue (like many OCs).

Nell Rigby was 16 years old when her life properly began. Everything before that was a foolish haze. Though it is, of course, worth recounting for the sake of this narrative.

Throughout those dull early years she often felt terribly lonely. This was at least partly due to her lack of proper parents. She often felt older than she was because of how few people really bothered with her. Like everyone, she had a mother. Her's was called Eleanor Hester Rigby. That Eleanor had died before she could even look at the child Nell. At least she'd written down a name beforehand, though never told a soul who the father was. Nor did she even really listen to the Beatles (it probably would've upset her to know she shared the name of a depressing). Perhaps if she'd survived rather than left Nell with no close family - for the mother was just as alone as Nell - something different might've happened. But what we're concerned with is what did happen.

The most basic facts? Nell Rigby was born and quickly fell into the care of the local church's pastor, Father McKenzie. People didn't like him because he was the dullest speaker in the state (or so people claimed). At least he meant well. Being a good-hearted man he didn't mind looking after a baby that cried and gurgled wretchedly. People avoided him anyway. To him the adoption of Nell was some sort of gift from God. Even if he didn't get to tell all sorts of inspiring to crowds of people he could at least positively influence one soul. This was all fine and well, but it didn't go over well in practice.

No matter what Father McKenzie did Nell Rigby was bound to turn out funny. He didn't truly know what he was doing in some ways, raising a friend's daughter (Eleanor H. Rigby had been one of the few people who regularly talked to Father McKenzie). Being raised by a priest and having to help out with both weddings and funerals made you think in odd ways. Nell had helped dig countless graves, making her less outwardly emotional. The only reason people showed up at that little church was for special occasions - both good and bad. Nell watched these extremes of human emotion in somber silence.

As she grew older Nell often prayed (to a God she hardly believed in) that somebody would notice her. Even at Denton Elementary school (and later in Middle and High) she never really had friends. Something about her made her so very common that nobody properly realized she existed. Yes, she was in the county's records and everything. Yet Nell Rigby had a nearly superhuman power to be so normal people didn't notice her. Sometimes she entertained the idea that, even dressed in the Magical Mystery Tour's most outlandish costume, she'd still blend in painfully well. She hadn't tried it, of course, and probably wouldn't. Though it was true that she could've gotten away with serial murder. Not that she was prone to killing people.

On the morning of Nell's 16th Birthday old Father McKenzie dropped dead without much fuss. This didn't bother Nell, or so she told herself. He'd been very old anyway. It's always worse when someone dies young, especially if they're a film star or part of a rock n' roll band. But nobody was going to notice the death of Father McKenzie for many more years. It was a depressing thought... though Nell Rigby was used to depressing thoughts. She was used to all sorts of unhappy thins.

After giving the only parent she'd known a nice funeral she went to school as if it were any other day. On her way home she bought herself a nice cupcake from a bakery. Things went on as usual, really. Only now Father McKenzie and his funny stories and sermons and amazingly bad cooking were gone. Maybe Nell was sad.

In the middle of a thick, gloomy forest - which itself was in the middle of Ohio - a castle materialized. This materialization was sort of like what the TARDIS does minus the 'whooshing' sound. Also, this great castle was far larger than that itsy-bitsy police box. They were both bigger on the inside, before you ask.

This castle loomed ominously and was prone to striking fear into the heart's of solicitors with the surname 'Harker'. Though that's a different story. It's inhabitants were equally frightening, though, and one talked like Bela Lugosi (who'd already died of his tragic heroin addiction by the time of this tale).

Most important of these 'inhabitants' was the Master of the House (castle?), Frank N. Furter. Yes, that was actually his name. Even in the far-away place he and his companions hailed from such a name was outlandish. At least it's more subtle than something like 'Biggus Dickus'. Since he happened to be from a popular upper-class family noted for churning out great scientists and greater rock stars he could sort of pull this off. His slightly delusional way of thinking and unnatural charm made this a bit easier for him. Everyone liked him until they thought about what a horrible person he was. Though some people liked him anyway. It was safer, of course, to pretend he was a God. Frank was from a powerful family.

The second most important was a brooding butler known as Riff Raff. This man had the most peculiar hairstyle and a hunch he knew about (rather than a hunch he didn't know about, like Eye-gor's). A quiet sort of man, he liked to lurk in the shadows. He was better at blending in than Nell Rigby - but only because he had training, as opposed to natural talent. This ability, and his memory for other people's secrets, made him a bad person to be the enemy of. He enjoyed overhearing things. Perhaps if President Nixon had hired someone like Riff Raff to keep records, rather than using tape recorders, all that trouble wouldn't have happened the way it did. Speaking of which, the investigations were going on right around the time this story takes place...

The third and final resident of the castle was a woman. Her name was, for some reason, Magenta and she happened to be the little sister of Riff Raff. Though one really wouldn't realize that at first glance. In both temperament and looks they differed wildly. She was a real beauty of a girl, and only about 25. Her face was always alight with an expression of fascination or delight. Magenta spoke seldom, though when she did she meant it. Something about her was oddly aristocratic, strangely elegant. Those qualities combined with her Bela Lugosi-style accent made her seem like an exotic European actress. Her job - at least the one officially listed - was far less glamorous. She was the 'domestic'. They couldn't call her the maid, you know, because she wasn't that sort of maid. Magenta was very close to her brother, just as Madeline Usher was very close to Roderick Usher. Though it was the first generation in their family so neither Magenta nor Riff Raff were inbred. How delightfully shocking it all is.

Why, you might ask, were such strange people in Ohio? We shall see soon enough.

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