Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Trick Or Treat... Possessing Pete

Chapter 3

by areyounormal 2 reviews

Will Pete manage to get past midnight?

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama - Published: 2012-04-22 - Updated: 2012-04-22 - 2247 words

Pete brought the car to a screeching halt in an alleyway, breathing heavily, he turned his head startled at the voice at his side.

“Could you step out of the car please, sir?”
“Gladly!” Pete replied quickly unbuckling his seat belt.

As he stepped from the car, the police officer frowned as he noticed that The young man before him was pale and visibly shaking. Considering the type of car, the man’s age and dress, he deemed it most likely that the car was stolen and the paleness and shaking a clear indication of drug use.

“Is this your car, sir?” he asked in a flat monotone.
“Yes, I have the…” Pete began as he went to lean back to reach the glove compartment.

The next moment was a blur as the officer pulled him back, spun him around and pushed him down over the trunk. In another blink of an eye, his hands were pulled behind him and he felt two circles of cold steel pressed into place around his wrists.

“What?” he gasped. “What did I do?”
“Speeding, reckless driving, refusing to stop for a police officer, evading arrest, very possibly theft and possession of illegal substances.”
“What? No!” Pete cried as he was turned around. “You don’t understand. This is my car, it’s new and it was out of control! I couldn’t do anything about it, I think there’s something wrong with it. I was terrified! I couldn’t have stopped if I was going off a cliff.”
“What’s your name?”
“Pete Wentz,” he replied quietly, still shaken from the car, and now even more so from the possibility of arrest.
“Registration and licence agrees, Clark,” the other officer confirmed. “Maybe he’s telling the truth?”
“I am!” Pete replied exasperated.
“Turn around,” the first police officer ordered.

Nervously complying, Pete was quietly relieved as he began to remove the handcuffs.

“Where we’re you going in such a hurry, anyway?”
“I wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry,” Pete pouted. “I was trying to get to my hotel… at a very ordinary speed. We’re here doing some interviews for our new CD.”
“But you have your own car?” the officer queried. “So clearly it was working well enough for you to get here from…?”
“New York,” Pete replied quietly; even he was starting to doubt the story. “Look, I don’t know what happened or why it didn’t happen before, but I’m telling you, it wouldn’t stop.”
“I’ll have to impound the car, we’ll check it over. If there’s nothing wrong with it, I’m putting out a warrant for your arrest for dangerous driving, got it?”

Pete nodded. Part of him felt as though there couldn’t possibly be nothing wrong with it and he would be entirely vindicated, but the nagging doubt remained that it might be related to the strange woman who had threatened him… the same woman that he continued to hear, somehow.

“You look worried,” the officer remarked, suggesting that he expected to find nothing wrong with the car.
“I’ve nearly just been killed by my car!” he snapped indignantly. “Of course I look worried! Wouldn’t you?”

Frowning at the reply, the officer eventually closed his notebook.

“Okay, you can go, for now.”

Pete glanced around, with no idea where he was, was at a loss to know which direction to head in. The officer sighed, starting to both believe and have sympathy for the shaken bassist.

“Down to the end and turn left. That’ll take you to the main street, you can get a cab from there.”
“Thanks,” Pete nodded tiredly before trudging, shoulders hunched towards the end of the road.
“What d’ya think?” the second officer asked as he rejoined the first.
Frowning thoughtfully, the first nodded. “I believe him; he looks a wreck.”
“Well at least it didn’t end in one.”

Pete sighed heavily again, glad to have his feet firmly on the floor. He felt annoyed with himself for convincing Patrick to go to the party when now, it was the last thing he wanted to do. Finally managing to hail a cab, Pete slumped in the back and, finally relaxing, found himself drifting off to sleep.


Awakened by the relentless ringing noise, Pete frowned and opened his eyes slowly, groggily. He felt as though he had been asleep for either five days or five minutes – his sleep too deep to wake or no rest at all.

“Wha…?” he mumbled reaching out in the dark towards the sound. “Yeah?” he croaked into the phone.
“Where are you?” Patrick asked. “Or should I say, why aren’t you here? It’s pretty obvious where you are.”
“Wh… What?”

Pete looked around before sitting bolt upright. He was lying on the bed in his hotel room. He could see it was dark outside and the clock on the nightstand glowed brightly in the gloom, telling him it was already after ten o’clock. His last memory was being in the cab, early in the afternoon and he was simply blank afterwards. Checking his pockets, his phone and wallet were present but he was at a loss to explain the missing hours.

“I… I’m sorry, Patrick, I must have fallen asleep. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Just let me grab a clean shirt and fix my liner and hair.”

Patrick rolled his eyes.

“Get here as fast as you can,” he sighed as he hung up.

Switching on the light, Pete stumbled his way to the bathroom, sighing heavily as he scoured his memory only to come up empty. Was it possible that his experience in the car had distressed him so much that he had simply flopped exhausted and forgotten even arriving at the hotel? It seemed the best explanation available to him, yet somehow he doubted it. The greatest confusion was to present itself when he looked into the bathroom mirror only to see a small but noticeable chunk missing from his hair.

“What the…” he muttered to himself as he leaned forward to examine the missing section closer. “It’s been cut! This is freaky!”

Shaking his head, he checked his watch again, there was no time to think about it. At this rate he was unlikely to get to the party before eleven. The guys might be annoyed with him, but hopefully they’d understand when he explained about the incident with his car.

It took only a matter of minutes to get ready before racing to the elevator. On the tenth floor of the hotel, he fully expected to have to wait a few minutes before stepping into a packed car full of other guests going out for the night. But he was hopeful for quick descent to the lobby.

When the door opened almost immediately he found the car empty and was quietly relieved. It wouldn’t be long now. No sooner had he stepped inside than the doors slid shut with such force as to almost slam together and the car jerked suddenly upwards, throwing him forward. Stretching out his arms to grab the hand rail, Pete turned to look at the floor buttons only to see that none were pressed. The elevator moved at speed, each floor hurtling past at an incredible speed. Hitting buttons randomly in an attempt to make it stop received no response and the lift continued on its way to the top floor. Pete pressed the alarm frantically without response and by now he had pressed himself back against the far wall of the car, shaking and shouting for help. Finally, the car ground to a halt, again causing him to lose his balance. Stepping forward again, Pete tried the door open button and was by now, barely surprised to receive no response. That is, not one he was expecting. Seeming to emanate from all corners of the elevator, a chilling laugh assaulted his ears.

“Midnight, Pete, remember? So close now. Are you ready?”
“How are you doing this? Leave me alone, you crazy…”
“Now, now, Pete,” the voice chided. “I really don’t think that making me even angrier with you is such a good idea.”
“Leave me alone, please! Whatever I said, I’m sorry.”
“Are you really?”
“Yes, yes I am!” he sounded desperate.
“Not sorry enough.”

At the words, the elevator car plummeted. Plunging to the ground as if the cable had snapped. Throwing himself back against the back wall, Pete grabbed at the rail, his finger curling so tight that his knuckles whitened. Far beyond his control, he found himself screaming in his terror, convinced he was about to die. The elevator slowed sharply just before the first floor, throwing Pete to his knees.

As the car came to a soft smooth halt, the doors opened and a dozen or more people stared at the sight of Pete, a shaking wreck, still kneeling on the floor of the car and as white as a sheet. He desperately needed something to steady his nerves, but there simply wasn’t time. He knew it sounded stupid, even as he was thinking it. The guys would understand, but of course, he wasn’t thinking straight. He had promised to get to the party quickly and despite the string of bizarre circumstances, he was determined to keep his promise. If nothing else, right now the last thing he wanted was to be alone.

Rising to his feet slowly, he staggered out of the elevator, almost pushing his way through the concerned onlookers, ignoring their stares and questions of concern. Stumbling through the lobby, he headed outside, taking a deep breath of the late night air as he did so. The evening was cold and as he breathed out, he could see the white mist of breath escaping his lips. If nothing else, it served to wake him fully. Flagging down a cab, he flopped in the back seat and gave the address. He wanted to forget what had happened and he planned to drink enough to do just that.

It was just after eleven when he finally arrived in the still busy traffic but he needn't have worried about an angry reaction from his friends. The moment they saw the still shaken bassist, they knew something was very wrong. Pulling him into a quiet room, Patrick insisted that he tell him immediately what had happened. Having witnessed the Pete's departure after dropping him off to collect his own car, Patrick had been concerned about the way he thought Pete had been driving, but hadn't realised that he had not been in control of the car. At the end of the long and unnerving tale, Patrick was almost lost for words.

“And to think I was almost relieved when you told me the car had been impounded!” Patrick exclaimed, wide-eyed.
“What?” Pete frowned at the statement. “When did I tell you that?”
“This afternoon,” Patrick replied, puzzled by the response. “I called you at your hotel. You told me about the police then you had to go because someone was at the door.”

Pete frowned, scouring his memory once again.

“You don't remember?” Patrick frowned.
“Trick, I told you, I don't remember anything between getting a cab back to the hotel and you calling me to say I was late.”
“You were probably really stressed. The mind does funny things when it's stressed.”

Pete nodded, clearly unconvinced.

“Wait here, I'll get you a drink, you look like you need it.” Patrick rose to his feet and headed for the door. “It's nearly midnight, there's going to be some sort of firework display.” he added as he left the room.
“Nearly midnight!”

Pete's head snapped up in mild panic. As he did, the door opened once more and Cerys, the interviewer who had threatened and haunted him slipped into the room and walked towards him, a terrifying smirk fixed on her face.

“Yes, Pete, midnight. Didn't I tell you I'd return?”

Racing to the door, Pete stopped suddenly as if held mid-stride, unable to move a muscle. Holding a large glass jar, Cerys circled Pete, laughing lightly as she walked.

“Did you miss this?” she asked, holding up a lock of his hair, only to receive a nervous look in return. “Oh, yes, you can't answer me. Too bad.”

Dropping the hair into the jar, she added another ingredient, an almost inky-black fluid. As it landed on the hair, a column of purple-black smoke rose up, filling the room with a choking fog.

As it enveloped him, Pete began to feel… strange. He felt light, as if he were being pulled upwards before shrinking, becoming smaller and smaller. When the fog finally cleared, Pete gasped as he found himself inside the jar. Slapping his palms onto the glass wall in disbelief he stared first out and then up.

Beyond the jar, he saw himself, standing unmoving, unblinking. Looking up, he reached up with both arms as, to his horror, he saw Cerys fixing a screw top lid, sealing him inside. But it was too late, he was trapped.

“You're much smaller than I expected,” she laughed. “You won't last long.”

Within the jar, everything went suddenly dark and Pete crumpled to the floor unconscious. She had terrifying powers and whatever she had planned for him, he knew already that he was unable to fight her.
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