BLOOD BANQUET - THE ADVENTURES OF MACH III
BASED ON "DANGER DAYS: THE TRUE LIVES OF THE FABULOUS KILLJOYS" BY MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE
INTRODUCTION
"Dad, where are you taking me?"
"To Battery City. We're going to go see a friend of your mother and I's. His name is Mr. Way."
"But why do I have to go?"
"Because Mr. Way is a very special man, and he thinks that you can help him with something."
"With what?"
"You'll find out soon enough."
"Tony? Mark? The cab is here."
"It's about time, the performance starts in an hour."
"We'll just have to hurry then. I'll see you tonight, honey. Mark, say goodbye to your mother."
"Oh, Tony?"
"Yes, dear?"
"Look alive, sunshine."
Mark jolted awake to the sound of the transmitter. He had been having dreams again. Enough of the BL/ind anti-emotional pills should have worked, but recently they had been failing. Maybe he was developing a tolerance. Maybe the dreams were getting worse. He wasn't sure which was better.
"It's November 3rd, PV 19 and you're here with me, Dr. Death Defying."
It was 2019, of course. Ever since the virus hit, everyone had started dropping the first two thousand years and acted like it was a new era, like the apocalypse had come and gone. But Mark preferred to ignore the fact that the world as he knew it had ended. The day didn't matter, though. Every day was the same. Convert, survive, repeat. He wished that WKIL would have a bit of news to share other than the usual morning broadcast, but ever since Dead Pegasus had gone to Battery City, sitting and waiting for news was all that could be done.
"I'll be your idol, your savior, your elevator..."
Mark made to get out of his bed, but his arms fell limp as he once again realized that he couldn't anymore. He was stuck here until the Doctor had finished his morning wake-up-call.
"We've got a new number to keep you kicking, it's called 'Sing' and it's fresh from our friends Dead Pegasus. Killjoys, make some noise."
In that moment, Mark had lost control of his body, as his back arched and his arms shot out as if he had been shocked with a defibrilator. He could feel the energy shooting through his nerves, and evel feel his heartbeat skyrocket. The experience could be compared to having an orgasm, although most people these days - except the city-dwellers - couldn't make that comparison. And, of course it wasn't elctricity that caused this, but the music from the transmitter.
"Hope that picked you up. This is WKIL, pumping out the freakalicious sounds to keep you alive."
After a moment's static, the feed cut to a mirror of BLND radio - elevator music. It didn't satisfy like the killjoy music did, but it kept Mark walking. And he had enough power in his collar to power his guitar for a few hours.
After pulling himself from the mattress, Mark picked up some of the clothes that were lying on the floor and pulled them on. He grabbed his raygun and a half-used nutrition bar from the BL/ind supply box, and a few Mars bars from under his mattress, lined his pockets with them and headed out.
On his way out, he grabbed his mask from the table and put it on, as he emerged into the California heat. Out here, he was no longer Mark Trent, he was Mach III.