Isobel stopped midway down the hall toward the staircase that would take her to the lobby. She put a hand on the wall to brace herself as she clutched her chest and tried to control her labored breathing. Her hands trembled and her pulse pounded in her ears. She recognized this feeling all too well.

She was crashing after the high. The endorphins had run their course, the adrenaline was gone, and the pleasure centers in her brain were exhausted, all leaving her a trembling, sweating wreck.

Though she had gone through this many times before, it had been a long while. She had not snorted, injected, or smoked anything in over a year, not since the morning she woke in the hospital confronted by the news of her brother's death. From that heartbreaking moment she had been clean.

But something happened that night when the strength and power of her living soul combined with all the others she had collected leaked out and she tore the ram horn from Vincent's head. She had never felt a high so intense. Pleasure and power mingled together inside of her until she felt like she was bursting at the seams.

But now it was over and she was coming down, fighting through blurry vision and brain fog to collect herself.

She leaned her back against the wall and closed her eyes, waiting for her heart to settle and her breathing to slow. Eventually her senses came back to her and when she opened her eyes everything was clear.

Her gaze dropped to the floor. Nifty was there standing in front of her, hands on hips and frown under her one large suspicious eye. At least she didn't have a knife.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked.

"Nothing." Isobel pushed herself from the wall.

"You look gross, like you're going to be sick."

Isobel shrugged, "and you look like a bitch. What can you do?" She started to walk down the hall trying to hide the wobble in her legs. Nifty trotted after her.

"If you throw up, I'll be the one who has to clean it."

"I'm fine," she said a little more forceful than she intended, then sighed. "I promise I won't make more work for you. And if I throw up, I'll clean it up myself."

Nifty nodded satisfied. "Good."

"Great," Isobel replied and continued down the hall.

She made sure to keep an especially firm grip on the banister as she descended the stairs to the lobby. Where she found, to her great relief, Angel Dust and Husker. They stood by the bar both looking dubiously at a group of followers sitting around the TV.

They all seemed to be hypnotized by whatever was on the screen, so Isobel easily avoided any attention and headed straight for the bar. She sat next the Angel, hunching tired in her seat.

"Drink?" Husk asked.

"Please. Something to calm my nerves."

He poured out three fingers on something brown and smooth. Was it bourbon? She didn't care and accepted gladly. Angel then leaned his elbows on bar, his own drink in hand.

"I'm all for there being more people at the hotel and everything, but these guys are real weirdos, you know."

Isobel nodded, "I know. At least they don't call you by some creepy nickname."

"They don't talk to me at all. I think they actually try to avoid me."

"Count your blessings." Isobel drank. "I'm convinced that at least some of them were puritans when they were alive."

Angel tilted his head thoughtfully, "makes sense."

"Uh, Shepherd?"

Isobel jumped as the small voice came at her elbow. It was Kali. She had done her little trick of appearing when she was least expected.

"Gah! Don't do that." Isobel exclaimed. "I'm going to have to tie a bell around your neck."

"Kinky," Angel snickered into his glass. Kali glared at him until Isobel responded.

"What is it?"

"I haven't seen Vincent around. I was wondering if you might know where he is."

Isobel made a bitter smile. Yeah, sure she could find Vincent. She probably knew exactly where he had been and was now trying to check up. See if he had fulfilled his mission. She opened her mouth to make a snarky remark, but as she did the television set made a screeching noise drawing their attention.

As everyone's eyes jerked toward the ear piercing sound, the screen went black and then to snow. It stopped making sounds all together as it glitched,throwing the tv into chaos with frozen pixels and scrambled images.

The speakers on the tv began to crinkle softly, a low steady white noise. With a pop and whir, the speaker on the record player followed suit. Unbeknownst to those in the lobby, individuals all over the city were experiencing the same thing. Wherever there was a speaker of any kind, it was coming to life seemingly on its own.

The white noise intensified until a voice penetrated, low and foreboding, lacking any of its usual mirth.

"What the fuck?" Angel said as Alastor's voice filled the lobby.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of the Pride Ring. Forgive this interruption of your regularly scheduled programming as I bring to you a special broadcast. I know it has been quite some time since we have been together, deer listeners. It has come to my attention that there are those within the city that have forgotten." Static pulsed and waned as he spoke almost as if it were intuned with his energy. "Forgotten that there are consequences to every action. There are punishments for every transgression. I, the Radio Demon, am here to remind you."

Silence.

The followers sitting by the tv stared at each other half curious, half anxious.

"Shit," Huskar said quietly. Isobel and Angel turned their attention to him. He stood looking paler than usual, his eyes staring off into nowhere. Slowly he sank down to the floor, pulling his knees in, covering his ears, and drawing his wings tightly around himself.

"Hey, uh, Husk?" Angel said nervously as he leaned over the bar. "You ok, there?"

It was at that moment the screaming started.

The speakers buzzed and sizzled as the sound of raw terror and pain burst from them. Everyone froze, transfixed by the shock of what they were hearing. None of their brains could compute what was happening. But as the cries of anguish continued, one by one they came out of their frozen state.

The followers clung to each other, some crying silent tears, others ran from the room. Little did they know there was nowhere to go where they couldn't hear the screams. Angel covered his mouth with his hands, eyes wide. He went around the bar to sit next to Husker, hiding under a wing.

Isobel stood and as if in a trance and walked toward the record player. She was vaguely aware of Kali holding on to her arm, tears streaming down her face and whimpering. Isobel placed her hands on the record player. Her fingers could feel the vibration of the thumping speakers.

Kali suddenly released her arm, no longer able to stand it. She wanted to run as far from this horrible nightmare as possible. But with an uncanny strength, a hand grabbed her by the collar and dragged her back. Isobel pushed the smaller woman against the player and held her fast.

"Listen to it," she demanded. Kali recognized the tenor of Vincent's voice. She knew her plans and tactics had been found out and this was her punishment. She sobbed as Isobel held over the speakers.

After what felt like a long while, the screams subsided, leaving only the crackle of open radio air. And then Alastor's voice.

"Signing off."

With a screech of static and a rolling of a dial, the speakers fell silent. Isobel was left surrounded by the sound of crying and sniveling. She released Kali who sank to the floor.

Through her heavy sobs she said, "thank you, Shepherd, for sparing me. I know I deserved this punishment."

Isobel turned in a circle survey the wrecks they all had become.

"Gather the rest of the followers," she said. "Wait here until I return."

With long steady strides she ascended the staircase. Half way up she met Charlie and Vaggie, both frantic and wild eyed.

"Did you hear it?" Vaggie asked.

Isobel ignored the question and continued. She didn't stop until she reached a door in the dark. Light spilled from the bottom and rhythmic jazz played from within. She didn't knock, just placed her hand on the door knob and pushed her way in.

Alastor stood at the center of the room back to the door. Coat off and suspenders dangling, it looked like she had surprised him. Had he been dancing? He held a drink in his hand and a satisfied expression on his face. The same expression shared by his shadow which loomed on the wall just behind him. As he turned to her, he moved like he was tired from exertion.

She could see clearly the splatter and spray of deep crimson all over him, deer ears to red patent leather toes. Her eyes traveled the length of his body up and down.

"You've got blood on you."

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand causing a red smear over his lips and up one side of his face. Then he smiled.