Stigmata

It must have been 9am, Vivien thought, because someone was shaking her shoulders and calling her name softly and telling her it was time to “wakey wakey, cigs and alchies.” She had just been having the most wonderful dream of being on a beach in Cancun, and she had been tan - for the little ginger kid, tan was only a dream, and one she didn’t get to have very often.

“You don’t want none of this,” The dancer grumbled, waving her arm at her “attacker” as if to fend them off.

“For real, Vivien? The gig’s in two hours, I figured you’d want to be up!” Vivien tentatively opened one gray peeper, and found herself staring up at Johnny, which was a shock because she normally didn’t have any interaction with him at all. The fact that they were both still young vampires and that she was more controlled than he was even though he was older was a sore spot for the bassist - plus, the fucker was always asleep, no joke. Despite her surprise, the redhead sat bolt upright when the bassist mentioned time.

“Who the hell let me sleep in this late?! I’m a goddamn mess from last night!” She blew past Johnny and vaulted toward the back of the bus to rummage for clothes. “Thanks for getting me up, Johnny! Where is everyone?”

“Can’t tell you.” Vivien paused for a moment, confused by this statement. “Because I don’t know, they vanished after they carried you in last night.” The lithe redhead could hardly suppress a wince at this statement; what she could remember of the night before didn’t reflect very well on her at all. But then, for a roadie on the Warped Tour, did it really matter how sober she was or was not on a regular basis? She reflected on this for a moment as she brushed her teeth and added her normal amount of makeup.

“You boys are an odd bunch of men, Johnny. Sometimes I wonder about ya’all. Anyway,” Ratty Converse sneakers in hand, Vivien plopped on “her” couch to secure them to her feet. “I’ve gotta go fight with Brian’s fucking Floyd Roses though, those things are a bitch to tune. Wait, is Val gone, too?”

Johnny nodded like a sad five-year-old who’s mother was leaving him at his first day of kindergarten. Viv stood, and double-knotted the ties on her bathing suit - her typical gig gear was a bathing suit, jean shorts and an easily shedable tank top or t-shirt - while she regarded the angst bassist.

“Come with me, we’ll give your basses a once-over while I’m already fixing shit?” That got the blond man to brighten up instantly; he flipped his hood up over his head, and arm and arm they exited the bus to cross the fairgrounds.

Vivien found herself sitting cross-legged atop an amp next to Johnny, who was seated likewise. Each had a guitar (or a bass) in their hand; Viv had no less than three Allen wrenches hanging from her mouth as she cursed her way through changing the broken strings on Brian’s guitars, her usual pre-gig ritual.

“Fuck these things, why does he love this damn floating bridge shit anyway?! It’s so difficult to tune!” Seward knew better than to try and lecture Vivien on the benefits of the mechanism, she knew full well why Brian liked them - because he loved to make life complicated for his favorite guitar tech, and play a mean solo. After half an hour and only two of four broken strings changed, Vivien was beyond frustrated; rather, she was about ready to take one of Synyster fucking Gates’ signature Schecter fucking pin-striped pieces of shit and smash it to bits on the wall of the trailer and call it quits.

“Vivien, can I talk to you for a minute?” The redhead didn’t even look up to see who was talking to her, just grumbled about needing a minute and where the broken string she was wrestling with could shove itself on Brian Haner’s anatomy whenever she actually managed to remove it from the goddamn guitar. “No, Vivien, I mean now,” Thankfully, the string had come loose and Viv wouldn’t be forced to give whomever was addressing her the same tirade - she looked up from her work, thinking it was one of the other technicians or a roadie, and found herself looking at a very peeved-off Jimmy Sullivan. “Ah, right, uh. You want to talk?” The drummer nodded solemnly, which set Vivien to scrambling to put the guitar in its case and follow the lanky man in the direction which he stalked.

“Well?” The pair had hardly managed to make it fifty feet before Vivien got impatient and stopped short, demanding an answer. She hardly seemed to care that Jimmy was staring daggers at her with his fists on his skinny hips - truth be told, she had seen him give her that look so many times in the last week, she had basically become desensitized to its effects. Finally, after a minute-long stare down, Jimmy sighed.

“We figured out your talent last night.” Vivien raised an eyebrow, and said nothing which prompted Jimmy to continue. “You are a compulser. You have the ability to control and influence the minds of humans around you, but it’s based on your musical talent. So when you play an instrument, the people around you will be influenced to feel the same way you do. This is rather unfortunate for sound check…” Brows knitted now, Vivien fished for the pack of Marlboro lights she had snagged from the carton the boys kept in the fridge, packed it and pulled a smoke out.

“Like, I could… make the entire crowd angry if I go on and sound check after I finish changing Brian’s strings?”

“Yeah, just like that. I feel like eventually you will be able to effect people consciously, to change their thoughts to something that doesn’t align directly with yours, to actually control minds.” The redhead had turned into a veritable chimney during Jimmy’s speech, her expression changed from concern to near horror as Jimmy spoke.

“I could control minds?”

“Theoretically, yes. I’ve only met one other vampire that can do this. We can help you as much as we can, but eventually, you’re going to need to go and meet this man and he’ll be able to help you more than Matt, or Brian, or I ever could.”

“But I don’t want to leave you guys, you’re my family!”

“Vivien, we can only help you for so long. As soon as you get the training you need, you can come back to us. But…”

“But what? Jimmy, you’re frightening me. I feel like you guys should lock me away in the back of the RV until I figure this shit out!” Visibly shaken, the redhead threw her cigarette butt on the ground and lit a new one.

“That’s what Matt wanted to do with you, but he agreed that you’re not going to learn a damn thing until you’re exposed. His power is closest to yours, so it’s only right that he’s most frightened of you.”

“Matty is frightened of me? My God! Just cut my head off! Give me a goddamn splinter, kill me now, this is awful, Jimmy!” The drummer grabbed her tiny shoulders in his broad hands, holding the quivering vampire fast before him, lest someone should notice her odd antics.

“He’s only scared because…” He took a deep breath, looking deep into the little redhead’s big gray eyes. “Because you’re probably going to be stronger than us all. When you are fully trained, you might lead this coven.” Vivien froze.

“I - I don’t want that…” Jimmy pulled her tiny frame against his chest, petting her hair tenderly.

“Come on, honey, you have a show to set up.”