It was just another, ordinary day on the bus.

Ray was in the back room with Gerard working on some song while Mikey was beating Frank at some video game while they travelled to their next gig. It was normal, almost routine, for them to be like that. There wasn't much to do on a bus.

"I bet you a blowjob I can beat you this time around," Frank grinned, looking over at Mikey.

Mikey looked over at Frank, confused, "Do you want to give me a blowjob that badly?"

"Nope, I want one," Frank said, now smirking, "do we have a deal?"

"Sure, why not? I could use a good blow after being deprived for so long," Mikey turned to the TV and restarted the game.

Frank just laughed.

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"I can't believe you beat me..." Mikey said, defeated, as he watched the screen. He lost. To Frank who was horrible at video games. "This is just a dream."

"Afraid not, Mikes," Frank said, tossing his controller off to the side as he scooted closer to Mikey. "I would love to collect my payment now."

The bus stopped suddenly and the two jerked forward by the force.

"Oh thank the heavens! We're here!" Mikey said, standing up, glad to put off what was about to happen for a while, and stepping closer to the door, ready to hop off.

"Uh Mikey, I don't think so." After Mikey stood up, Frank leaned to look out the window, lifting the blinds up so he could see. They were in the middle of nowhere, emptiness surrounding them. No cars and definitely no people from what they could see in the moonlight.

"What do you mean?" Mikey asked looking back at Frank.

The door opened and Mikey stepped back, closer to Frank, until they were side by side as a strange figure stepped into the bus, wearing a mask. Not just any mask, it was a Drac mask, one from one of their recent music videos.

"Go," Frank muttered to Mikey as he eyed the figure who looked dangerous, ready to fight him off if, when, it came to it. 'I can take him,' Frank thought, 'I can fight.'

Mikey took one look at the guy and back at Frank before disappearing into the back of the bus, leaving Frank and the stranger alone. He opened the door to the backroom and shut it just as quickly.

Ray stopped his guitar playing as he looked up at Mikey and saw his panicked expression., "What's going on?"

Mikey didn't even get a chance to answer Ray or Gerard's questioning look before they heard a blood curdling scream come from the front room.

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Frank, now shirtless, screamed at the top of his lungs, a knife that the stranger pulled out of seemingly nowhere, digging into his skin, cutting a line from the top of his chest to about where his belly button was. Blood oozed out of the cut and Frank's screams escalated as the killer started to break his ribs. Then, silence.

The band found Frank with his chest cut open, his lungs sticking out among the broken ribs and a cut across his throat, not long after the screaming had stopped. No one else on the bus, as far as they could tell, it was just three musicians and a corpse.

No one moved for a second, too shocked to move, watching as Frank's life drained out of him. Gerard was first to react.

"Call the cops," he said, pushing Ray out of the way to kneel next to Frank, and to grab his lifeless hand. Mikey reached over Frank as he joined Gerard on the floor, and closed his eyes with his hand, his hand lingering on the face. A tear slid down his cheek, and more followed closely behind, as he shut Frank's mouth, his lips forming a straight line instead of an expression mid-scream. His best friend was dead, next to him, covered in blood. Just minutes ago, Frank was trying to get a blowjob out of Mikey, and now he was gone. Mikey closed his eyes tightly, leaning against Gerard, and tried to stop himself from crying, but it was a useless attempt.

Gerard wrapped on arm around Mikey and pulled him close, both of them sobbing into each other, and each holding Frank's hand.

Ray pulled out his cell phone, quickly dialling 911 as he wiped away his own tears.

"Hello? How may we be of service," a woman's voice said on the other end.

"My...my friend was murdered," Ray stuttered, leaning against the wall, looking away from Frank's dead body.

"Calm down and stay on the line with me, sir. Can I get a name and location?"

"R-ray Toro, and we're...in the middle of nowhere...We're on a tour bus..." Ray sniffled, using his other hand to wipe his eyes. "We're supposed to be heading to New York City..." he mumbled.

Ray ended up having to repeat himself a couple of times, sobbing too much to form proper words. The last thing he heard before the line went dead was that they traced his call and would be there shortly.

Ray slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, sobbing into his knees. One of his best friends was dead just a few feet away from him, his chest ripped open by an unknown killer. Mikey shuffled over to sit by Ray, wrapping his arms around the bigger man to offer him some comfort while using his chest as a pillow, staining the shirt with tears.

"This is just a dream..." Gerard said quietly, his voice hoarse from crying. He looked at Frank, finally letting go of his hand and setting it down carefully, as if it was a fragile vase. "Just a horrible, horrible nightmare I'll wake up from and everything will be back to normal again."

No one said anything for a while, the only sounds to be heard was their sobs over mourning their lost friend.

"The cops should be here soon," Ray said, hiccuping as he tried to stop the tears. He looked at Mikey who was laying on his chest, his breathing slow as if he were sleeping, their arms wrapped around each other. "Is Mikey asleep?" he asked Gerard.

Gerard leaned closer, just a little, and examined his younger brother's face. He nodded, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "Out like a light."

Ray sighed, starting to untangle himself from Mikey, looking up at Gerard's confused expression. "I really have to pee..." he said, explaining himself as he stood up. "I'll um, grab some blankets too...should we move to the couch?" he asked, looking down at Gerard as he offered him a hand.

"We can try," Gerard said, grabbing his friend's hand and pulled himself up. Ray disappeared down the bunk area, and Gerard heard the door for the bathroom open and shut.

Gerard looked around the bus, carefully avoiding to look at Frank's body, before turning his attention back to the sleeping Mikey. He crouched down and grabbed Mikey's arms and tried wrapping them around his neck to pull him forward so he could grab the other's torso. It didn't work like that. Mikey's arms went limp around his neck and slid down before landing back where they were before. Gerard was about to start again when he heard a noise come from the front of the bus.

"What the hell?" he mumbled, dropping Mikey's arms and turned towards the front of the bus. "Are the cops here?" he asked himself, taking a few steps forward, looking out the front window. He hadn't heard any sirens, and he didn't see any cars outside.

He took a few more steps forward, as quietly as he could, until he was at the very front of the bus. He turned his head, and saw their driver, someone he didn't remember the name of, with a bullet in his head. Gerard gasped, reaching out to shut the poor man's eyes when he heard the noise again. It sounded like a baseball bat being tapped against the floor.

Gerard turned, ready to run back to Mikey to make sure he was okay, but as he turned he saw the familiar, white mask. He froze in fear, staring at the person. The stranger was wearing all white, but the clothes were stained red by what could be assumed as Frank's blood.

The stranger lifted up his gloved hands, revealing a baseball bat, exactly what Gerard heard, and brought it up above his head. Gerard only had enough time to scream before the bat made contact with his head, bashing his head.

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"Gerard?" Ray called, running back to the living room as soon as he heard the scream. He figured it had to have been Gerard, since Mikey had been sleeping when he left. Just as he thought, Gerard was missing, and Mikey was on the floor, now awake, looking as confused as possible. When Mikey looked up at Ray and saw his expression, he looked around the room for Gerard.

"Mikey, come on," Ray said, offering Mikey a hand, trying to pull him up, "we've got to get out of here." Mikey was unresponsive. "Mikey, come on we need to get out of here." Ray crouched down, wrapping his arms around Mikey's torso and trying to lift him up.

"Gerard..." Mikey whispered, hearing the sound of an object hitting another. "Gerard!" Mikey yelled and Ray put a hand over his mouth.

"Mikey, we need to get out of here." Ray locked eyes with Mikey, who was starting to sob. Ray lost two of his best friends and he was not about to lose Mikey, too. Ray pulled Mikey to his feet, and lead him over to a window, tearing off the blinds before opening it.

Ray and Mikey both froze, hearing footsteps of someone behind them. Ray and Mikey both turned and saw the man dressed as a Draculoid, standing just a few feet behind them.

"Go, now," Ray said, pushing Mikey closer to the window. Mikey refused to move, staring at the man with a blank expression. Mikey finally climbed out the window and once he was out, Ray turned to face the masked stranger, hadn't moved since he turned around. Ray started to take a step forward, to hopefully either get around the man or grab something to use as a weapon. Before he even took more than a step, the man crashed into him, and together they went flying out the window, landing on the ground with a thud. The man landed on top of Ray and there was a sickening crack from when Ray's body hit the pavement. The killer pulled Ray, whose body wouldn't respond to him, up to his feet. The man raised his fist and it collided with the side of Ray's face with a force big enough to jerk his head to the side.

Ray tried to lift his arms to fight back, or even to just deflect a blow, but his arms wouldn't respond to him. After a few more punches to the face, and even to the gut, Ray as pushed back to the ground, landing on top of the shattered glass from the window. Ray groaned, trying to focus on the figure standing above him, but failing miserably. He just saw a white blob lean down over him and pull something out of his pocket - a knife Ray soon figured out.

Ray screamed, the knife digging into the skin around his neck, slicing it open, in a slow, agonizingly long process. Blood started pouring out of the wound, dribbling down his neck and to the asphalt road beneath them, but that didn't stop the killer, not even when Ray took his last and final breath. The killer started cutting more and more until finally, Ray's head was dislodged from his body, his eyes and mouth wide open. The killer smiled behind his mask and picked up the head by the hair, carrying it at his side as he stood up and started to walk around to the front of the bus to where he heard crying, which he knew automatically to be Mikey's.

The killer turned the corner, seeing Mikey sitting against one of the wheels of the bus, crying into his hands. He heard the footsteps of the man and looked up, and as met with Ray's face just inches from his own, causing Mikey to scream. The killer dropped the head, and it landed with a thud next to Mikey, but just a few seconds later Mikey was being hauled to his feet.

"Was that scary enough for you?" The killer growled, pushing Mikey up against the bus.

"You weren't supposed to kill them, Bob!" Mikey cried, the images of his dead friends in his head. "That wasn't the plan!"

"Screw you and the fucking plan!" Bob growled again, dropping Mikey and taking a step back. Mikey looked up at him, fear plain on his face. Bob reached up and took the mask off, a crazy look in his eyes from what Mikey could see. Bob started to step forward, closer to Mikey, and Mikey pushed him back before he got any closer, running around the bus to the back, and stopping as he saw a car a couple of yards away from the bus.

A cop car.

"They won't help you, Mikey," Bob's voice said from behind him, walking a leisurely pace.

Mikey ran faster, calling out to the cops in the car, confused as to why they were just sitting in the car instead of getting out to help him.

As soon as Mikey got close enough to the car, he realized why they weren't helping.

They were dead, both shot in the chest.

Mikey looked over his shoulder and saw Bob walking, about halfway over to him, carrying Ray's head again. Mikey gulped and leaned across the driver and tried to pick up the car radio, hopefully to get back to the station.

Mikey held the receiver up to his lips, pressing the button, "Help, help, please!" he shouted, panicking. He got no response. Upon closer inspection, Mikey would probably realize that it wasn't working, that someone had cut the power so it couldn't work. Instead, Mikey kept yelling into the receiver, not noticing Bob only a few feet away. Until, that is, Ray's head collided with the back of his legs, his knees buckling underneath him from the blow. Mikey fell into the dead cop's lap, dropping the receiver, and felt himself slowly sliding out until his knees landed on the road, his top half still in the car.

Bob hit Mikey with Ray's head, again, near the shoulder blades, and Mikey cried out in pain. "You think I'd let you get away that easily, Mikey?" Bob repeatedly hit Mikey a couple of times, before setting the head on top of the cop car. "It's your turn now, Mikey," Bob growled, leaning in closer next to Mikey, who felt too weak to fight back, "go join your friends in hell. I'll see you guys there soon."

Mikey could only register Bob laughing, and a few seconds later; pain and heat flaring up all over him. It took Mikey a second to realize what was happening.

He was on fire.

Mikey tried to push himself out of the car, so he could try to put out the flames, but pain shot up when he moved his arms. Mikey screamed, the flames quickly travelling up his shirt, and down his legs, blackening every inch of skin they could reach. Mikey screamed again, weaker than before, his oxygen running out. Mikey felt his hair start on fire, his scalp burning from the flames. He eventually slid out of the car, his body going limp, and the last thing he heard before he died, struggling to take his last breath, was Bob's crazy laugh.