Helena. The name had been repeated so many times that it barely sounded like a word let alone a name anymore. Just a random noise being whispered over and over through River's chapped lips.
"Can someone get her out of here? It's kind of distracting and I'm trying to get through this asteroid field like a leaf on the wind," Wash said.
"She has to be in here," replied Zoe, "she's the only one who knows where we are going."
River stopped whispering the name Helena, her eyes growing wide in fear. "We need to go to the black parade."
"The black parade? That event full of emo's?" Zoe asked.
River nodded her head in agreement. "They dance like they have flesh eating worms in their brains," she whispered.
"Okay baby, change of direction. We are heading to the black parade," Zoe announced.
Approaching the world Chemical Romance was like nothing the group of pirates had ever seen before. Men with charcoal surrounding their eyes, and women with hair dyed colors unnatural to even the most heinous aliens, all dressed like members of a marching band. They collected in tight knit groups among the fog machines and the strobe lights. Their bodies moved like reavers ready for their next meal. Even Jayne felt fear.
"Look at these punks," Mal sighed, "lets get this Helena girl and get out of here, I can't stand this music."
This came as a surprise to the rest of the group. Nobody else had even noticed the post-hardcore emo pop punk rock reverberating from the crowd.
"There!" River shouted pointing into the crowd. A single girl dressed in a pure white spandex suit stood out among the crowd of black hoods. She swayed with the music her eyes pressed shut in ecstasy.
"All-right gun-slingers, lets get our tushies over there," Mal said pulling his pistol out of his holster. He began to push his way towards the stage where the lady in the white, power-outfit stood. But when his boots stepped onto the stage everyone went quiet.
Five, thirty year old punks stood in front of Helena. They were covered in leather, chains and spikes; the leader had a head of fiery orange hair. The leader raised a microphone to his lips.
"Sing it out. Boy, you've got to see what tomorrow brings," came his angelic voice. The crowds eyes fluttered shut just like Helena's had been earlier. "Sing it out. Girl, you've got to be what tomorrow needs." Reaper cries echoed across the mountains, they were sharp and bloodthirsty.
Mal turned to direct his team but found that they also had their eyes closed. They were lost in the beat of the music.
"Looks like its five against one partner," called one of the boys before settling down on the drum stool.
"Well, this isn't my first rodeo bucko," Mal called back.
The drummer said nothing before beginning to smack those sticks against those magic cylinders.
"Sing it for the boys. Sing it for the girls. Every time that you lose it sing it for the world," the fiery boy sang. Reaper screeching grew even louder, like they were trying to sing along but had never heard the song before. The sounds were so loud Mal knew that they were moving through the crowd now. He only had moments before they too stepped onto the stage and attacked him. Taking a deep breath, Mal lifted his pistol and pointed it at the main singer.
"Sing it from the heart. Sing it till-" The lead singer was stopped abruptly by a bullet to the head.
Chaos broke out as the other band members threw their instruments down in anger. Reapers stepped onto the stage surrounding the remaining band members, Helena and Mal.
"Helena! Will you defeat them? The demons, and this non-believer," asked the bassist. She nodded her head. Her eyes drifted shut again and she began to sway to music that nobody could hear.
Meanwhile, Mal fought the reavers. Bullets flew, sticking themselves in the falling bloody bodies. Blood painted the stage a dark red, which looked very nice against the glossy black enamel of the stage. Around the stage thousands of people continued to sway, the occasional splash of blood and guts doing nothing to stop their euphoric dance.
Mal reached to reload his pistol only to find that he was entirely out of ammo.
"Looks like sundown for me," he whispered. Hope leaving his eyes as the reavers moved closer and closer to the center of the stage. Mal was pressed right against Helena now, trying to keep the reavers from touching him.
Suddenly, Helena began to glow, the light lifting and illuminating her cape dress so she looked like an angel that belonged on top of a Christmas tree for a family that really cares about Christmas. Her eyes opened to reveal to red glowing orbs. The scream that seemed to rip its way out of her body sounded both beautiful and terrifying. The open wounds on the reavers began to peel back, revealing bone and metal.
"When I was a young boy. My father took me into the city. To see a marching band!" Helena screamed. The reavers exploded into the air, like air cannons at the end of a kick-ass concert. Mal took the moment to shoot the remaining band members. "He said, 'Son, when you grow up. Would you be the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned," Helena yelled at the top of her lungs. She held the last note until she passed out. Her angelic face was beet red and blotchy.
"Yipee Ki yay Motherfucker," Mal said before picking Helena up and carrying her though the crowd-back to Serenity. His crewmates followed in silence, still waking up from their mind control.
Simon opened the hatch to the Serenity and the pirates climbed on board. River was crying and Simon gathered her up into his arms.
"Shh… what happened? What did you do to her?!" he yelled at Mal.
"Nothing happened. The little darlin' just took a nap," Mal responded.
"She's a superhero," River whispered, "I don't trust her."
"You shouldn't," whispered Helena from her spot in Mal's warm burly arms, "Teenagers scare the living-" She was cut off as Jayne grabbed her throat effectively cutting off her air. Helena's eyes went wide as Jayne continued to crush her throat.
"Nobody controls my mind," he growled, "I hope you enjoy being normal."
His grip tightened, destroying her vocal box and leaving her powerless. A single tear dripped down her cheek as she stepped off the ship.