Rock N' Roll Is Here To Stay, It Will Never Die

[CHRISTINE]

Leigh Cabot. She was a woman now a middle aged woman. Nothing too special about her nowadays. She worked a quiet little job and led a quiet little life. Of course, this all masked the horrific and painful event that happened over twenty years ago.

For everyone and everything, there is an it. There's life before it and life after it. For Leigh, Arnie Cunningham and Christine were that it.

She knew the Fury was back. She shouldn't known it would have repaired itself and hunted her down by now. Maybe she just wanted to forget about it. Try and block it out. She couldn't, but for a while, she did have herself wondering if it were just some sort of horrific nightmare that never happened. That her teenage love, Arnie Cunningham, and Christine never existed.

She swore she could feel it out there though. Not just after the old car had repaired herself, but always. Always after they defeated the antique automobile. And she was right to feel that way. She was never truly happy, always scared and seeing the silhouettes of a car that wasn't there in the night. She never married, never had children. She was alone, except for her fear to keep her company.

That fear turned into sheer, primal terror about a year ago, when Christine finally had tracked her down. She ambushed her at night, in the parking garage just outside of the lab where she worked. She survived the incident and kept her job, surprisingly.

A few weeks later, she saw the world famous magician, Zatanna, advertising a red and white 1958 Plymouth Fury as part of her act. Leigh had her suspicions, which turned into confirmation as she saw a two ton beam drop unto the car and the car repair itself up on stage. Christine had went into show business and for a while, Leigh felt safe.

Soon though, Christine was no longer featured in Zatanna's acts. She never said anything about saling the car or getting rid of it, but Leigh knew deep down inside that Christine had grown tired and left Zatanna's care to persue other interests, like running her over.

And now it was over a year later. No Christine, but a growing and soul numbing terror. She understood now. This was part of Christine's revenge. Ruin her life with fear and then come to kill her when she grows bored of it.

No, it was best to go on living her life. Screw Christine. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't too late for her to get married and start a family. Maybe they wouldn't be at risk over her. She pondered this and many other thoughts as she stared out the window of the bus that was taking her home.

She'd been cooped up on her garage for far too long. Occasionally, she would venture out, but almost always at night. Now was different though. Now she was going to test her quary up close.

It was in the evening, before the sun went down. Normal nine to five workers in Gotham were heading home. So was that awful bitch. She could feel it. She knew it and she knew that awful bitch knew she knew it.

She turned a lot of heads while going down mainstreet. It was safe to venture out though. Her windows were far too tinted and hid the fact she was without a driver. Gaining or not gaining attention wasn't her concern, however. All that concerned her was not getting caught in traffic. It would be fool hardy to pull something violent here and now, in broad daylight.

No, she just followed patiently along behind the bus in front of her. She knew who was on it and she knew that this certain someone, this awful bitch, would soon come to know she was close.

Very close.

So close that she decided to start blaring her radio. A thing about old cars such as her is that she wasn't designed to keep down noise pollution. If she blared her radio, everyone and their mother would be able to hear.

One song in particular she knew the awful bitch would recognize. It was....their song....

Rock N' Roll is here to stay
It will never die.
It'll go down in history
Though I don't know why.

C'mon, everybody rock n' roll.

Leigh stood up, grabbed her suitcase and proceeded to walk up to the front of the bus, just as it was stopping. This was her stop alright. She must've rode this bus a thousand times. The bus driver, David, knew her well.

"This is your stop, Ms. Cabot."

She smiled and started down the steps when she heard that music. That horrible, hellbound music. She immediately turned back and walked back up to the driver.

"I....I can't get out here. Just...just go ahead with your stops."

She didn't even give the driver time to answer her. She rushed back to her seat and held her arms over her chest, shivering, despite it being about seventy degrees outside. She briefly looked back at the bus' back window to confirm her worst fears.

She caught a glimpse of a red and white 1958 Plymouth Fury with silver trim and grill.

She caught a glimpse of Christine.

[Dragon]

The Narrows had always been a favorite hangout of Darin, and today was no exception. The cops rarely patrolled in this area of Gotham, and those that did were so few they could usually be avoided easily, or so corrupt that it didn't matter. He was at the moment tailing a particularly wealthy looking woman, which was strange for this area of town, she must be a tourist. He had been following her for the better part of an hour now, growing closer and closer as he did. Most residents would have noticed him by now, but this woman seemed intent on seeing all of Gotham.

It wasn't long before she made her first mistake in turning into a small side alley to see some old building. Darin seized the opportunity, bounding into the alley and throwing the woman to the ground with a ball of telekinesis. She looked up at him, the sun was behind him so she saw only his sillhouette. "Who are you?"

"Your money. All of it." Darin demanded, producing a flame in one hand. She took off the expensive hand bag and practically threw at him before getting up and sprinting off as fast as she could in high heels. That wasn't very polite. Darin created a small fire on the tail of her fur cloak, she probably wouldn't notice it till she was out of the Narrows completely, but he'd had his fun. Turning around, back towards the street, Darin spotted an extremely old car, a Fury if he had his smarts right. It was a remarkable car, looking brand new even though it was certainly at least forty years old, but there was something strange about it, something apparent only to Darin's extremely sharp eyes. It had no driver.

Decidedly strange.

Darin took a step closer when the car started blaring its stereo, an old rock song, just the kind Darin loved. He was sure everyone could hear it for at least three city blocks, but it didn't matter. Something strange was going on on the bus though, a woman, middle aged by the look of her, was apparently freaking out about the car. Even stranger, though other traffic was swerving around the stopped bus, the Fury simply stood there and waited, its massive engine idling as the song blared out. Darin took a step back into the shadows, wondering what was going to happen.

[CHRISTINE]

How she longed to have that awful bitch on the bus dead, and by her doing. She wanted nothing more at that moment to run her down, have her pinned beneath her, and dragged her for a few blocks against the pavement. The would certainly feel good. The thought of it would've made her shudder, if she were human.

Naturally, a car like her turned some heads, not just that awful bitch. One in particular seemed to strike her interest though. He was bad, just like her. He'd just gotten done robbing a woman actually. Not in her view, of course, but somehow she knew about it. Just like how she knew when and where Buddy and Moochie would been when she killed them....

She'd scared the awful bitch for today. This would take a long time for her to get over, no doubt. She allowed the bus to drive out of her view once it got going. There was something else that intrigued her at the moment. Maybe she could have some fun with this man, this bad boy. Letting a few more cars pass her, she eased up onto the curb and parked herself, killing her radio and engine.

She wondered....how would he respond to a nice car like her sitting there all by herself, with no one in her?

[Dragon]

Darin stared in amazement as the car parked herself. For some reason he got the vibe that even though it was a car, it was still a she. The motor was killed, the radio falling silent with it. He checked again, unlocked. Amazeing, this car was obviously special, he could feel it calling to him in some sort of unnatural way. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. He had never been a real mechanical guy, but there was somethihng about this car that just cried at him to take it.

Possessed by a combination of supernatural influence and greed, Darin stepped around to the driver's side door and climbed in like he owned it, sighing in slight relief as he sagged back against the leather seats that should have been decades old, but strangely seemed brand new. And all of a sudden, as soon as he clicked the seatbelt in place and reached for the ignition, he knew he was in for one of the wildest rides of his life.

[CHRISTINE]

(I'm very sorry I've been taking so long to post. I hope my RP is worth the wait)

A wild ride might not have been the way to put it. He'd certainly be in for one unique experience though. Still, the bus had already pulled away with that awful bitch onboard it. She already scared her for the day, but didn't want to allow herself to get too bored. Playing with this one should do.

The engine and radio had both been killed. As the plaything had found out from his inspection of the old Fury, the doors were unlocked and the windows were strangely untinted now. He could see clearly the view of the red interior. Opening the door and hopping in, which he did, would be a new treat to his senses. He'd find that although the car was a 1958 model, it smelled brand new. Seatbelts were something else. They weren't a standard feature on Furys like this. There was another thing that wasn't standard that came with this car as well.

The essence of an evil and possessive succubus.

She allowed him control at this point. Allowed him to get in and buckle his own seatbelt. That's about where it ended. Just as he reached for the ignition, the car started itself up before he could lay a finger on the keys. She revved her engine up a few times, letting powerful vibrations shudder through her body and tightened his seatbelt to an uncomfortable, though not leathal, extent.

Then the radio. It only moments before played a nice little song from the 50s. Now it broadcasted something far more disturbing, and entirely unearthly. It started up as sounding like a woman panting in disstress. The windows began to tint again and just as the sound on the radio picked up, the inside of the car got brighter and the lovely scent of new car smell was quickly replaced with the smell of rotten eggs.

No, brimstone.

(Radio noise-click here.)

The rearview mirror, on the dashboard, moved so that he could get a better view of himself in the reflection. Looking down, he'd find that a mere seatbelt was embracing around his torso. In the reflection in the mirror, a pale and beautiful redheaded woman had him embraced from behind, though the look on her face was all but loving.

[Dragon]

Darin couldn't help but be at least a little freaked out about all this. A sudden odor of rotting flesh hit his nostrils, and he started in panic as he saw the woman in the mirror. Looking behind him, there was nothing, but her image remained imprinted on the mirror. Moving his hand shakily to move it, the damned thing wouldn't budge, indeed, it seemed to push against his hand of its own will. Everything in here happened so automatically, so mechanically. So evilly. One conclusion, however incredibly illogical and insane it may have been, remained in his mind: this car was alive.

His voice was shaky, though he tried to keep the fear out of it, two of the dashboard lights looked disturbingly like the same green eyes the woman in the mirror glared at him with. Rather than face the phantasm in the mirror, he stared at the lights. "I don't know who the fuck you are, but you've obviously got some neat tricks up your sleeve. I respect that. Maybe we can help each other. My name's Darin Saine, also known as Dragon." He cut off, waiting for a response....

[CHRISTINE]

Try as he might, struggle as he might, there was no getting the upper hand in this situation. Well, maybe there was some hope. As much hope a fly already caught in a Venus fly trap has. He was in her world now. Worse, he was completely at her mercy.

At the mercy of Christine.

He was scared. They all are before she sends them from this world into the next. But he did something completely unexpected. Something that, fortunately for him, intrigued the Fury.

The radio died. So did the engine and the lights. The windows became untinted and allowed him to see into the outside world once more. Once again, she behaved just like any other car without a driver manipulating it. She sat parked, perfectly still.

Was she thinking over his offer or had she already decided?

The key chain on the steering column jerked from side to side to get his attention. She'd give him some time to see how this would work out. If it did, it could be a very beautiful thing. If it didn't, she could always just leave him. Or kill him. In the meantime, she was his to drive away with.

[Dragon]

Darin smiled. Either he had talked some sort of measure of reason into the being controlling this car, or she was just playing with him. He chose to believe the former, pushing the clutch down against the floorboard with his left foot and turning the key, smiling as the car's massive engine started with a roar on the first try. This was truly a beautiful car, Darin remarked again on how new and pristine everything looked even though this car was at the very least forty two years out of the factory. He wondered briefly who had owned it before him. He shook his head, it didn't matter now. What mattered is that this car was his now. Or to be more appropriatly, he was the car's.

But he didn't know that just yet. What he knew was that he had a sweet new ride, and he was about to show it off. Pushing the clutch in, he eased it out as he pressed on the gas pedal, working that tenuous balance, before roaring off down the Gotham Freeway, shifting to second, third, and so on until he was well over eighty mph in a sixty-five. He didn't care, he could feel in his gut that as long as he was loyal, the cops would never catch this car. Darin took the exit towards his apartment flat in Crime Alley, intent on learning more about Christine.