Author's Note: There're a lot of songs in here. Blame it on my love of scary music. "Down With The Sickness" is by Disturbed. The Manson song Devi hears in the club is "Beautiful People", and I don't own the song at the end, either. That's "Dollhouse" by Switchblade Symphony - Ditchspade Symphony if you live in the world of Nny, Tenna, and Devi. Don't credit me with the parody either - JV wrote it on a poster in an Anne Gwish strip. ......Ok, enjoy.

MEANWHILE.........
In The Middle of The Night
By Miss Ang

Drowning deep in your sea of loathing
Broken your servant I kneel
It seems that what's left of my human side
Is slowly changing in me....
~ Disturbed, "Down With The Sickness"

Devi walked slowly into the goth club, sitting down at the bar. "So," she said to herself. "Society."

"It's interesting isn't it. Such a cesspool. Aren't you glad you're above it?"

She glanced at the backpack at her side. "Shh."

"Well, I'm only commenting."

"I know. But I don't want to stick out, and you're practically a sore thumb."

"I'd be able to sit right beside you if it weren't for these damned feet."

"Hey, I said I was sorry."

"Sorry you fought."

"Yes." Devi nodded, slowly reaching into her bag and feeling her painting tools between her fingertips. Looking around, she nodded her head rapidly to the beat of the Marilyn Manson tune that the DJ was spinning from his cobweb-encrusted booth.

I don't want you and I don't need you
Don't bother to resist or I'll beat you
It's not your fault that you're always wrong
The weak ones are there to justify the strong
The beautiful people, the beautiful people...

Devi smirked, then tapped the shoulder of the young aspiring vampire standing next to her. "Hey. Need blood?"

He looked her over, then smiled. "Well, uh..."

"Come on. You drink my lifejuice. I drink yours. We'll share. It won't be like either of us will lose anything." She winked.

"I..." He blinked. "Sure."

"Yeah. Come here." Taking hold of his arm, she pulled her canvas knife from her bag and turned it, watching it shine under the blacklights. "I don't have teeth. We'll have to do this my way." Smirking, Devi ran the blade slowly up his arm, watching as his interest turned to horror.

"OW! Fuck! That hurts!"

"I know. But doesn't everything?" She smiled sweetly, watching his blood trickle down to the black floor.

"............I thought you were supposed to drink," the vamp stuttered.

"Oh, no," Devi picked a glass jar out of her bag and let his blood flow into it. "Not now. I'm saving it for later."

"Um.... this kinda... I'm getting dizzy."

"You're not a real vampire then, are you?"

"Well No! This is a club... what do you THINK I'm supposed to be? Lestat reborn or some shit?" He yanked his arm away from her. "Real vampires don't exist! Demons and all that - they're all false!"

"Oh, you shouldn't have said that. You probably pissed her off." Devi sneered, climbing up on the bar. "OKAY! LITTLE POLL HERE! How many of you are REAL VAMPIRES? ...... No takers? I thought so. You're all just little bugs, scampering around, pretending to be something so you have someplace to belong. Little rich boys who wear dresses because it's the only way to get Mumsy and Dadsy to look at you. Poor things. You don't even know who you are. You're disgusting. And then to deny what you're playing into exists? .... I don't think that makes me very happy. Far from it. ....." Grabbing a bottle of absinthe from the bar, she threw it onto the floor. "I hate this shit. How can you drink it? Just because it was the rage in Paris when people were senseless. Just because it's supposed to be dark and spooky? It's liquid shit, people. See?" Pulling a match from her bag, Devi lit it, then tossed it onto the puddle. "Even burns like shit." She took another bottle and added it to the pyre before putting her backpack over her shoulders. "You little trick or treaters have fun playing evil. While you can."

As the screams of the patrons echoed through the building, Devi hightailed it out before the entire bar went out in flames with a loud boom. Kneeling on the sidewalk, she smiled as Sickness clambered out of her bag and skittered over beside her.

"Nice. Not bad for your first night out." The little doll smiled, perching on her scythe-like feet. "....Why here?"

"I just remembered how funny it was seeing Eric burn like that. Then I started wondering why. And then I figured, hey, why not?" Devi smiled. "And I got some more paint out of it, too." She held up the jar of blood proudly before screwing the top on it and setting it in her backpack.

"Yes. Aren't you glad you listened to me...."

Listened to me...
Listen to me...
Listen to me...
Listen to me...

Devi sat bolt upright in bed, sweat drenching her hair, her stereo faintly playing. She wiped a hand across her eyes, then frantically looked out of her bedroom into the studio to make sure that the painting was where it should be, as it should be - hung on the wall, with a paintbrush wedged through the canvas, an eyeless, soulless doll staring back at her, its head hung in defeat.

Pushing, pulling me down...again
Pushing, pulling me down...again
It's getting bad, I can't breathe
I won't let them in - I won't let them in

Wincing, Devi staggered out of bed and turned off the stereo. "That's the last time I fall asleep and leave my Ditchspade Symphony CD on," she muttered. "Damn nightmares."

Across the room, the painting smiled.