Fuck Authority

In the center of the city Amityville at twelve fifteen on a Saturday night, sirens sounded as the speeding cop cars raced down the streets after a 68 dark highland green Ford Mustang 390 GT 2 +2 fastback. The mustang was toying with the cops: it always slowed down when it pulled too far ahead in its aimless drive. It drove in circles and in random patterns, keeping the cops on the edge with its unpredictability and utter lack of mortality. It played chicken with any and all incoming traffic, as well as impromptu death races after luring in brash coppers.

One such copper was Officer Robinson Richards, a beat cop who had been having a shit day before coming onto the night shift. It was such a day that would have left lesser men to crumble, but instead caused him to be crude, aggressive, and overly focus and thus lead him to his cruel fate. He was the last to challenge the Mustang. He had a warm feeling when the car appeared to pull over for him, but as he too slow down, the mustang rev its engine and peeled off leaving only burn out marks in its wake. He sped up doing his best to stay on the trail, but he had to swerve to dodge the pedestrians who lost in chicken. The mustang took a sharp right at the next light and so did he. His cold gas station coffee sloshed around. The turn led them up a hill. Reaching the top of the hill without slowing down, they were launched getting a few moments in the air. The smell of the stale roasted coffee rose as his car landed hard and the cup's cap got dislodged. After racing down the hill the mustang took a sharp left. He pounded his fist when the mustang got onto the straightaway, now mocking him with what seemed like supernatural speed.

Ignoring the calls from his superiors to pull back, he sped even faster, drawing nearer to the tail of the mustang. With a quick glance at his speedometer he saw that he had exceeded 155 mph. He gripped the steering wheel harder, and an outburst was on the tip of his tongue for he couldn't close the gap any further. He stared at the lock of truck of the mustang as the rest of the world fade away out of his sight. With knuckles now white, he grinned as he saw the lock coming closer. The calls on the radio were lost on him, he didn't even notice the barricade of cop cars until the mustang went intangible and phased through the barricade unscathed leaving only the vanishing tail lights. Officer Richards never had the time to be surprised.

The mustang came out of intangible, seeming now done with its fun and games. It drove towards its destination. A building with an ops center on its roof and a sign on its side reading Fenton Works. As the car approached the build it went intangible once again and drove through the front door. It drove through the first floor and into the lab in the basement. The ghost portal open and the mustang went in. The time was two a.m.

In the ghost world, it drove on the rock pathway pasting floating rocks. It stopped when it reach a massive rock that held a stage. It drove off the rockway landing on the edge of the rock opposite the stage. The stage was thirty-two feet by twenty-four feet by four feet with fifteen feet high curtains that hide behind and the sides of the stage. On both sides off of the stage were three titanic speakers facing different directions. There were six more smaller speakers, that were two feet by two feet by two feet, placed on the edge of the stage. Also on stage was a drumset, a pair of basses, two separate pairs of guitars, and a mic. The car drove the 500 feet between it and the stage. It pass several tall poles with speakers on top. The car went behind the stage where upon it met eight male ghosts and a black van. The mustang pulled over near the van. Three of the ghost were standing idly by the van, as three others moved on and off the stage in a rush setting up, and the other two hunched over a tablet.

The engine of the mustang died, and the driver's door opened. A single blue and white Chuck Taylor All Stars High Tops stepped out, then a gray hand with a beat up, old padlock around its wrist reached out placing itself on the side of the car, and finally a head, with a fan mohawk comprised of four inch blue flame, rose out with the lean body following. This ghost wore a blue denim vest with spikes; band patches the largest being DK, and frayed armholes where the sleeves were ripped off, as well as a white tee that also had ripped of sleeves, black jeans ripped at the knees with three safety pins on the right knee, and on the opposite wrist was a bike chain.

He gave a quick nod to the ghosts by the van as he headed towards the two hunched over. One of the ghost wore thigh blue jeans and a white tee with the words 'Fuck You' on the back, and the other had white standing hair and wore a white lab coat. The ghost with the flamed mohawk called out, "Technus, is it all set?" His voice was low and robust.

Of course! It is, I am, Technus, master of,"

Yeah, cool," the first ghost said interrupting.

"Do you have what I want?"

"Here, it is." The ghost pulled a plastic case containing a computer chip out of his vest pocket and tossed it to Technus. "Now we're even." He walked away, as Technus began shouting out his plan. He went back to the ghosts by the van.

One of them was slender, short being five four, his hair was short but half blonde and half black, and he wore black and white checkered slip on vans, dark brown cargo pants, a torn red shirt, and two leather bracelets with one inch spikes. Another was thin, a inch short that the flame mohawk ghost being six foot but his black liberty spikes gave him an extra six inches, and he was dressed in black timberlands, blue jeans that were rolled up at the ankles, black 'The Ramones' tee, and a black leather jacket with red sleeves and spikes all over. And the last one was a six six buff bald ghost, that wore black combat boots, black leather pants, a gray muscle shirt with a red hand print, and a black leather jacket with leopard print lining and spikes just on the shoulders.

One of the ghost that was setting up the stage walked up to them. The mohawk ghost asked, "Good to go?" The stage ghost nodded his head and the flamed ghost said, "All right, let's get this shit started.

The other three ghost proceed on stage. The shortest ghost went to the drums, the scrawny one headed towards the pair of guitars on stage left, and the biggest ghost went to the basses. The drummer began playing, and the sound of the drums came out of the titanic speakers. So throughout the ghost zone the sound of that of a warrior's din could be came out their zones out of fear, curiosity, or both. Hearing that the din didn't come nearer, many were drawn to it. Once a good size crowd gather, the drummer stopped.

In the crowd was Ember, Kitty, and Johnny 13. "What's going on?," asked Kitty.

"Looks like a concert is about to start, Bab."

"I bet a hundred it's going to suck. What dipsticks came up with this?," Ember asked.

"The ghost in the 'Fuck You' shirt stood behind stage right curtains holding the tablet, as he gave the band a thumbs up. The band began playing but instead of the titanic speakers, the music came out of the speakers on stage and band was fast and hard causing the crowd to begin shoving each other to open up a circle pit. After playing one song, they started another but this one was slower. The guitarist and bassist stared towards the back curtains.

Kitty and Johnny stood cuddled up near the edge of a circle pit, "That was insane!," Kitty yelled so Johnny could hear./

"I know!"

"Ember came out of the circle pit to stand next to the other two. She was already beginning to sweat. "Forget what I said earlier! This is. Oh! My! God!," she said, "but doesn't this remind you of him?!" Johnny scowled as he remembers who Ember was talking about, whereas Kitty lit up.

They all looked up on stage as the band began shouting, "We are all we have tonight, Woah ohhh ohhh" when their lead vocalist came on stage. His flame mohawk was six inches taller than before. When he stepped to the mic he yelled their song 'We Are All We Have Tonight'.

The crowd was whipped into a frenzy. The circle pits collapsed and half the crowd just resorted to shoving and pushing: even Johnny and Ember whose mood soured when they saw the lead singer, were riled up and joined in. People went on stage and dived off to crowd surfed. The band continued playing, some songs the vocalist would grab and play a guitar. But at the climax of the show while the crowd was in a fever pitch, a squadron of ghost cops came.

One of the coppers came forward, pulled out a bullhorn, and spoke into it, "You're all disrupting the peace. If you do not disperse immediately, we will have to use force." But no one heard his warning over the speakers. The cops shot out canisters into the crowd. The canisters let out a smoke that cause people to cough and choke. Some of the crowd was able to escape and fled quickly. With gas mask on, many of the cops rushed into the crowd and began to beat them with billy clubs. While others went straight to the stage. At the stage the ghost with the bullhorn spoke once again. "By the orders of Walker, I command you to cease and desist immediately, or we will continue to use brute force." The band had been playing nonstop even when the crowds were being gassed and beaten, and they continued to play still. So the cop with the bullhorn made a motion for six other cops to rush the stage. As they got on the stage, the mohawk ghost nodded and the ghost in the 'Fuck You' shirt hit a button on the tablet causing the mic to be shut off. Before the cops could take another step closer, the vocalist let out a ghostly wail. The cops were knocked off the stage unconscious. This caught the attention of many of the cops; who stopped swing their billy clubs and began to bum rushed the stage. The band still playing as the cops drew near, and those cops met the same fate as the ones before. If listened to, it would be noticed that the vocalist was saying the lyrics to the song while in the midst of doing his ghostly wail.

The other band members began packing away their instruments into the van with the help of the other four ghosts. Once finishing putting everything in, besides the speakers and the guitar that the vocalist was strumming, they got into the van and drove off. The vocalist was the only one on stage. The cop with the bullhorn was shocked and appalled that his men were easily defeated by one ghost. The vocalist finished his guitar solo, unplugged his guitar, and slowly walked to his mustang and drove off.

Thanks to what happened on stage, the crowd was able to escape. Kitty was flying as fast as she could, chasing the vanishing tail lights of a 68 dark highland green Ford Mustang GT. Johnny and Ember followed her before catching up because she stopped. She was looking around quickly, when Johnny asked "What's the matter, Bab?"

"I lost him."

Johnny let out a smile before saying, "Knowing him, he's long gone and we won't see him for years.

Kitty's shoulder dropped as she pouted. "But still." She flew off with the other two tagging along. They past many floating purple doors that lead to unknown zones. They didn't know if they should stop and checked them. Finally when they felt hopelessly lost and was about to give up, they found an unique door. This one looked worn with red paint chipping off to reveal a light colored wood. In the middle of the door the words 'The Underground' were carved in. Kitty reached for the doorknob, but Ember caught her arm."If we going in there, all there will be is chaos and pain." Ember let go of Kitty's arm. Johnny's hands became fists as he watched his girl opening the door. Kitty went in and Johnny followed suit. Leaving Ember alone. The fact that she'll meet the vocalist began to dawn on her. She clenched her chest and under her breath she let the name Sid escape. She sighed heavily and then put on an angry, strong face before walking into the portal herself.