And if they get me and the sun goes down

And if they get me take this spike and

You put the spike in my heart

Someone get me to the doctor, someone get me to a church

Where they can pump this venom gaping hole

And you must keep your soul like a secret in your throat(Come on!)

[Chorus]

Can you take this spike?

Will it fill our hearts with thoughts of endless

Nighttime sky?

Can you take this spike?

Will it wash away this jet black feeling?

Bob's frantic breath puffed smoke in the frigid air….

He dared not look behind him for fear of the rabid fans. He slowed to a jog when he could no longer hear the sounds of hundreds of footsteps behind him. No longer could he hear the screams of his name, and finally he took a breath and became aware of his surroundings.

At some point in his struggle, he had wondered into an alley.

Trash littered the ground, a piece of tin foil glinted in the moonlight. His heart leapt at the sound of a feral cat, scavenging through some tuna cans, which littered the concrete floor.

"Disgusting!" Bob exclaimed out loud. He glanced at the exit to the alley. "Should I even chance it?" he thought aloud to himself.

If he left, he could be chased by the fans…. But if he didn't?

Well that's a whole nother story. Instead, he did nothing. He leaned against the wall and slid to the ground, burying his face in his hands.

He didn't know how much time was passing. He didn't care. Had the others noticed he was gone yet? "Of course not," he said to himself, sighing. He looked up. He noticed could see his breath… How cold was it outside?

It was then that Bob noticed the black cat pacing next to his left arm. Without thinking, he stretched out his hand to pat it on the head. The cat hissed angrily and, before he'd even noticed it happening, the cat scratched Bob in anger.

"Ow! Mother fucker!" he screamed, smacking the cat in the face. It hissed again and ran off into the shadows

Bob winced in pain and put his hand in his mouth, sucking the blood off the fresh wound. He winced again at the taste and smell. Immediately he took his hand out of his mouth and wrapped it in his vintage leather bomber jacket with a hole in the pocket and studs around the collar (it also had the bands symbol on the armband on his left sleeve but a portion of it had gotten torn off in the scuffle between Bob and the fans)

"well… I guess I should head back now," he said to himself, standing up slowly.

He turned and began to exit when suddenly he bumped into something hard. At first, he thought he'd walked into the brick wall. Bob opened his eyes, rubbing his head, and looked up.

A young man, about 16, stood before him. He was tragically beautiful—even more beautiful than Gerard, Bob thought. For once he managed to keep his thoughts to himself. He wore a black v-neck, which contrasted sharply with the bright red streaks in his hair, which fell over one eye. Bob noticed his eyes were red too, perhaps the result of some colored contacts. The boy looked surprised and slightly nervous and he began to bite his lower lip, which had two lip rings (A/N: their called snake bites) in it.

Bob cleared his throat. "OH, sorry…" he mumbled.

"you're Bob!" the boy said suddenly. Bob took a step back, surprised. "From My CHemical Romance?"

Bob let out a sigh of relief when he realized this was just another fan. He smiled slightly. "Yeah, that's me," he said, a small smile playing on his lips.

He talked like he was from a different time, Bob thought…

"I'm a huge fan, my name is Wilhelm Pattinsen," the boy said, extending a hand. The motion was sudden, so sudden it was as if it never happened…as if his hand was…. Always there, extended as a friendly gesture.

Bob grasped his hand firmly, and shook.

Suddenly, there was a sudden change in Wilhelm's expression. He looked at Bob's hand, the cut which marred his snow white complexion. Bob tried to take back his hand, but Wilhelm pulled it firmly to his mouth. Bob screamed in terror as Wilhelm sunk his teeth into his flesh, sending flames of pain shooting up his veins toward his heart.

It seemed as if Wilhelm was drinking his blood, but the thought seemed absurd.

Bob quickly lost consciousness, slipping into the black dreams he seemed to always dream now that he was a friend of LynZ…