Telepathic/Prescient/Sentience

The world moved in warped waves across the car windows. Lisa looked out at the feral night world, and felt her heart rush with excited fear. Her mind was a muddled mess.

Brian Callahan was staring out into the darkness as well. His mind wandered, far beyond the now, back to a past. A past he hoped to never hear of again. He felt sickened and repulsed. His hand jerked, wishing it held a gun to press to his temple. But his pistol stayed snug in it's holster. He clenched his teeth, and looked out the window.

Sideshow Bob's sharp eyes flicked up to Lisa's reflection in the rearview mirror, then flicked back to the road. He felt the handle of his wazikashi against his stomach as he leaned forward.

They stopped at a red light. Brian looked up, at the lone figure standing on the edge of the curb. His head was down, as if he was looking at his navel. Brian kept on looking at him. It's head jerked up. The shadows hid his face. Two glowing red eyes appeared in the darkness. A cold wave rode across him, setting all his hair on-end. The light changed, and they drove away. He watched the figure as it retreated into the darkness.

Lisa looked from the window to her wrist. It was twenty after seven. We'll be there early, she thought. Probably have to watch one of those god-awful dance numbers. And Brian will drink some more. Him, my dad, and Bart-not a liver cell between them. Then a sharp pain flashed in the back of her skull. Her spine arched like a wire. The world pulled away as her eyes rolled up into her sockets. Her nose filled with blood.

The window shattered. A man in back leapt through, then another, and another. They rushed through the front door. The bouncer was shot in the face. They charged in, firing in every direction. The bartender was cut down. They took out axes and picks and knives and crowbars. Every table, every picture, every door was smashed. Overturn. Shattered. The door to the room was kicked in. They were all sitting on the filthy green couches. Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat! Dead. She tried to jump, but a bullet caught her in the shoulder. Like glass the bones shattered.

She felt a hand slap-patting her cheek. The pavement came in underneath her.

"She's coming to!" she heard Mel shout at the edge of her consciousness. Her eyes slowly opened. She sat straight up, a thought buzzing about like a fly. It settled, and she screamed, "We have to call everyone! We have to stop them from getting there! It's a trap!"

"Lisa, calm down! You had a spell-"

"It was a vision, another one, wasn't it, Lis'?"

"We can't let them go to the Maison Derriere! They'll be slaughtered!"

"Brian, what is this-has Lisa developed schizophrenia?"

"No-prescience. Now you call Marge and Homer, Bob-call Bart and Jessica."

Brian took out his cell and called Millhouse.

"Millhouse VanHouten, this is Prof. Callahan. You must not go to the Maison Derriere. There has been a last-minute change of plans. Head directly to the Starbucks on the corner of Ming and Ashe. The north one. The northeast one. Okay."

He hung up and dialed again.

"Father? Are you at the meeting place yet? No? Good. Turn around. Go to the Starbucks on the corner of Ming and Ashe. I'll explain later."

"Bart. Yes, tis I. Turn your ridiculous red sportscar around and head to the Starbucks on the corner of Ming and Ashe. The old one, yes."

"Dolph, new meeting place; the Starbucks on Ming and Ashe. Radio Nelson and tell him the same."

"Mr. Simpson? Its Sideshow Mel. Yes, I'm fine. There has been a sudden development, and we are now meeting at the Starbucks on Ming and Ashe. No, the one built two weeks ago."

"Mr. Flanders, its good that I got you in time. Do not go to the burlesque house, we are meeting at the Starbucks on Ming and Ashe."

All the appropriate calls had been made.

"Here, Mel, park the car," Robert said as he handed his cousin the keys. "Miss Simpson, here, I'll help you up. We'd better get you inside."

"Are you okay?" Brian asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

They sat down inside the Starbucks and waited. Brian got their drinks (a Chai Tea for Lisa, a Soy latte for Mel, a triple expresso for Robert, and a hot chocolate for himself).

"Lisa had a vision like this before," Brian explained as he brought back the drinks.

"The night they attacked the house, before it happened, I had a…I saw, I felt myself being tied up and killed by the vampires! It was like it was happening to me, but… it wasn't."

Mel looked to Bob. Bob said nothing. He furrowed his brow in thought, and took a long, slurping sip of hot expresso.

Homer and Marge rushed in. Homer had his gun slung across his back, and Marge had her sheathed katana in hand.

"Lisa! What's wrong? Bob, what's happening?"

"Its nothing to lose your wits over, Mrs. Simpson. Lisa had an experience that she has reason to believe was a premonition, and, to avoid the ghastly events foreseen, we are changing one of the key variables."

"Hrrrrmmm…"

Dolph, Neslon, and Millhouse rushed in.

"What's the deal?" Nelson asked.

"Oh, just a change of pace. Felt we should meet somewhere else." Lisa lied.

"Eh. Okay. So long as Sherri or Terri don't see me here. I told them I had to go answer a call about a bank robbery."

"I got nothin'," said Dolph.

The two priests joined them, then Ned. While they sipped drinks and Homer munched biscotti, Lisa explained.

Before anyone could express their disbelief, or concern for her mental health, Dolph's radio went off.

"Leutenant Dolph."

"All units, there's a gang war or some kind of riot at the old burlesque house."

They all looked at each other, shocked. Ned bit his lower lip, then adjusted his glasses as they slipped down his nose.