-Here's my newest fic, it's a little bit weird, not in a sense like it's supernatural, it's just kind of...weird. Okay, I know that was really confusing, but just read the story!-

A band meeting had been called and so the band had all met in the living room of their huge upstate New York mansion. The person who called the meeting was making sure that everyone had a cup of Dr. Pepper. Katie wasn't thirsty, but she took her cup anyway. The person who had called the meeting apparently had nothing to say, but watched as the rest of the band downed their sodas and left the room.

Just a minute after receiving her soda, Katie was one of three people left in the room. The other two people were Freddy and the person who'd called the meeting. The person who'd called the meeting fixed themselves a soda while Katie took her first sip. Freddy collapsed onto the sofa. Katie looked at him, concerned, and went over to him.

"Too much alcohol," the person said, laughing. Katie wasn't so sure. Freddy didn't look too good. She checked his pulse and found that there was no pulse. Realizing that the band had been poisoned, Katie looked at the person, disbelieving. But she knew that there was little time for her, and she needed to make sure that people knew who had done this.

Grabbing a pencil and paper, Katie started writing. Her hands were shaking from fear and the poison. "What are you writing?" the person yelled, running over. After the person had scanned the paper they seemed satisfied that it was nothing damaging.

Katie's hands were shaking even more and she was finding it difficult to breathe. She knew that her life was almost over and quickly said a prayer, begging for forgiveness from God, and then she passed. The person smirked and left the room, dragging the bodies of the band into the living room and lining them up, making sure each of them was holding their cup.

When the person was done, they took a sip of their soda and laid down on the carpet of the living room, smiling as the poison overtook them. (a/n sorry about calling the person "the person", but don't want to give it away!!!)

---

The next morning, at 5 A M, on the island of Manhattan, Claire Owens' phone rang. "Hello?" she answered groggily.

"Claire? We've got a case for you. This is a big case, but you've been doing well in assisting on other cases, so I decided to give you this. Now before I give you details, tell me this: Are you okay with a huge case?"

Hearing her boss' voice, Claire perked up. Eager to get her own case, she said quickly, "I'm okay with it. Now what are the details?"

"I'll tell you on your way to the scene. Be in your car in five minutes, I'll call your cell and tell you everything."

Claire hopped out of bed quickly and threw on jeans and a School of Rock shirt. All notions of sleep had left her. She was too excited for sleep. She'd been working as a forensic detective for two years, and now she was finally getting her own case. She didn't have time to take a shower so she pulled her short brown hair back into a ponytail. Claire took a quick mirror check, then ran down the stairs of her apartment building and got into her Mini Coup. Just as she started the ignition, her cell phone rang.

"Claire? Here's the address." Her boss gave her an address to a house in upstate New York. "And now I'll give you the details. Have you ever heard of the band School of Rock?"

"Heard of them? They've been my favorite band since I was in fourth grade, when they made their debut at the Battle of the Bands! They're still together, you know! Why do you ask?"

"Well, uh, they're not together anymore. This morning, a friend of the band's, a Miss Mullins, came to visit their mansion. No one answered the door, but it was open, so she went in. She found every single band member dead on the living room floor, according to her story. She may have been responsible for the deaths, we haven't done autopsies yet. That will all be up to you. Oh, I gotta go. See you soon!"

Claire hung up and shook her head. Her favorite band was dead, every single last one of them. She slid a CD into her CD player, School of Rock's debut album. Not long after, she pulled up at a huge mansion, School of Rock's mansion. The gates opened for her car and Claire got prepared to see her favorite band, dead.

Inside the mansion, Claire slipped on some gloves and went into the living room. The School of Rock was laying there, a cup in every member's hand. Claire walked by each person, identifying the band and crew. Several other forensic detectives were waiting for her to tell them to do something. "I want autopsies performed!" she barked.

The other detectives went to work and quickly cleared the room of the bodies. "The autopsy results should be in by the end of the day," said the last detective as he left the room. Claire walked around the room, thinking. Miss Mullins had already been interviewed. The autopsies would determine whether or not she would still be a suspect.

On a coffee table was a piece of paper and a pencil. With her gloved hands, Claire picked up the paper. It had seven words on it: Break on Through to the Other Side. Claire recognized the words as the title a song by The Doors, but didn't see the paper as being important. Nevertheless, she put the paper in a plastic bag labeled: EVIDENCE.

Sitting on the sofa, she waited, because she could do nothing until the autopsy results were in.

-Do you like it? I know it's weird, the fact that all the band members are dead, but please tell me if you like it!-