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Long, Hard Road Out of Hell	By : FlameWolf666 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Marilyn Manson Views: 2983 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: As you know, I still do not know Marilyn Manson, Johnny Depp or any of the other famous people in this fic. This story is, of course, fiction. This was written for fun and no profit will be made.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
WARNING!!: Ambush and Beating of a Pregnant Woman.

Author’s Note: ‘Let's turn on the juice and see what shakes loose.’ - Betelgeuse

Chapter Sixteen: Devastation

    The next two months both sped by and crawled like a slug. As soon as she entered her fifth month, the music videos had stopped, leaving her with a lot of free time at home. Unfortunately, most of that time was now spent with Ginger, Amanda and Jerome. Jonathan Davis had left in the middle of her fourth month, finally feeling comfortable enough to go on tour. Johnny also felt more comfortable leaving her at home, picking up on acting jobs he had neglected while things were still hectic. Still, at least it wouldn’t be much longer before Manson came home.
    Sighing as she lounged on the couch, she found herself staring down at the small bump forming on her abdomen. She was both fascinated and frightened by the idea of a child growing inside her. Not for the first time, she wondered what kind of mother she would make. She had never acted all that maternal and found herself getting easily irritated with children. She was a bit nervous that she wouldn’t treat her child all that well because of that. Her only solace was that she wouldn’t have to do it alone. The band as well as Amanda would be more than willing to pick up her slack if she was emotionally unable to be a mother. Still, that didn’t exactly feel fair.
    Leaning her head against the back of the couch, she closed her hazel eyes as she forced her mind onto another track. Worrying about what kind of mother she would be would only stress her out and she didn’t really need more of it at this point. Especially with her best friend ready to pop any time now. Each hiccup or cramp was a cause for massive amounts of anxiety, making both her and Ginger swarm around the poor woman. It was enough to make the stubborn writer yell at them more than a few times.
    Amanda was more than just annoyed with the extra attention. She was downright fed up. She was used to being more independent, not followed after like she was going to break. To say she felt smothered would be a bit of an understatement. So, when she had woken up to a tight feeling in her lower back, she was reluctant to tell anyone. After days of being relentlessly shadowing, the last thing she wanted was to be swarmed on.
    With a sigh and a wince, the journalist got to her feet and stretched. Of course, she would tell the others when the contractions got closer together. As for right now, she just wanted to relax. She didn’t want a lot of fuss or panic. Not when the labor itself could take many hours. Besides, there wasn’t anything to really worry about. Birth wasn’t like on TV or in the movies. It was usually a very lengthy process and she wanted to spend as much time at home as possible. Hospitals were honestly a bit scary and she didn’t relish being stuck at one for several hours.
    Heading down the stairs, she stopped briefly when she heard voices. Right now, Ginger and Raven were discussing the former freelancer’s pregnancy. From the sounds of it, everything was going smooth. She hadn’t had any complications, a huge relief given the last pregnancy had ended in miscarriage. In all honesty, she would be glad when this whole mess was over. It had been far too long since she and her closest friend had just been able to hang out. She longed for the days they could just sit and watch a movie together, gushing about how cute the male lead was. Just thinking about the look on Ginger’s face was enough to make her smile as she finally rounded into the living room.
    Immediately, all eyes landed on her; making her regret her decision to even leave her room. “Before you start, I just want a normal day. Okay? I don’t want any fuss, no shadowing. Just a normal, peaceful day. If you can’t agree to that, I can just go back upstairs and lock myself in the room,” came a warning, brown eyes shooting a very serious warning to the people gathered in the room. Thankfully, Ginger and Raven nodded vigorously; giving her some hope that they would comply. Though, she had doubts about her husband’s ability to resist the urge to wait on her hand and foot.
    Narrowing her eyes in suspicion, the writer moved into the living room; sitting next to her likewise pregnant friend. Mystery, who had been watching from the kitchen, waddled over to her mistress; hopping into what was left of the woman’s lap. Lily, on the other hand, simply gave the woman that had sat down a disdainful expression from her own position on Raven’s lap. “So, you’re doing good so far?” the slightly older female prompted, gaze moving to the very slight bump of her practical sister’s stomach.
    “Yeah, thankfully. Still don’t quite know how I feel about this. Am I just keeping this baby because I was so traumatized by the miscarriage? Or do I actually want to have a child? I still don’t hold much enthusiasm for children themselves. Will that change with my own child? Will I simply ignore the baby or will I be a good mother?” pondered the ebony haired femme, rubbing the bulge with a vaguely worried expression on her pale features.
    “You’ll do fine! Besides, its not like you go out of your way to treat children badly. You also don’t have to do it alone. This baby will have a very strange family but a loving one. Though, I wouldn’t recommend you ever let Pogo babysit,” pointed out the journalist, drawing a smile out of the concerned artist.
    “Lord, I don’t even want to think of what he would teach this kid. What if it’s a girl? Can you imagine how protective Manson will be?” Raven pointed out, chuckling at the images that flashed through her head.
    “Let alone when she brings home her first boyfriend. He’d send the poor boy running to the hills,” Amanda provided, joining in the mirth.
    “Don’t forget Johnny. Even though this baby isn’t his, he’ll be just as protective. Poor girl will be lucky to be dating when she turns twenty,” responded a jaunty quip.
    Thus the conversation continued like that, the two women laughing while poor Ginger was doing his best to suppress his urge to fuss over his heavily pregnant wife. This was his first marriage, let alone first child. He felt well within his rights to be nervous. Even more so now that she was so close to getting birth. It was hard for him to sit back and allow her to get her own drinks and food. Mostly due to the fact that he felt she deserved to be served. Especially given the fact he’d been the one to put her into this position.
    Sighing as he ran an unsteady hand through his flaxen locks, he forced himself to take a seat on the shorter couch located next to the one the women were seated on. If this was what the love of his life wanted, he would comply. That didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. Even now, he was watching her out of the corner of his eye; on guard for any signs of distress. Every stroke of her swollen tummy, every twitch made his blood pressure spike. If he didn’t find a way to distract himself soon, he would go insane.
    Catching the eye of Jerome, the two men headed to the entry hall. Looking down at the shorter male before him with a sympathetic expression, the bodyguard gave a nod to show he was listening. “I feel like I’m going out of my mind. I know millions of women do this every day but they aren’t my wife! Let alone the fact we’ll be taking the baby with us as soon as its cleared by a doctor. I have no idea how to do any of this,” the distraught percussionist whispered, keeping his voice low so Amanda wouldn’t hear his distress.
    “And countless fathers have said those same words. Take courage. She’ll be in good hands and there’s no reason to expect complications,” pointed out the larger of the pair, placing meaty hands on the celebrity’s shoulders.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Somewhere in Colorado~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    “I'm the Mephistopheles of Los Angeles,” echoed a wavering baritone, accompanied by the sounds of two guitars playing a sorrowful tune. Then the pale God was tipping back a plastic water bottle, adam’s apple moving with each swallow of the liquid encased inside. After only a few mouthfuls, he was spitting it back onto the crowd that swarmed under him; grinning when they rejoiced like revellers receiving a blessing. Some had even opened their mouths to receive it, no doubt finding some thrill in the thought they would be taking in some of his saliva.
    None of the mob would have been able to tell he was a ball of anxiety on the inside. It had been far too long since he had seen his pregnant fiance. Despite receiving nearly daily calls from her, he found himself filled with the need to assess her condition for himself. Therefore, he would only be on tour a few more months tops. A fact he had made very clear to his agent. The birth of his own child just wasn’t something he was willing to miss out on.
    In fact, it was only the knowledge that she had Johnny and Jerome that kept him going. Still, the loss of Davis had rattled him. He could still remember that call, using the raw emotion to power his next song. “Don't want your God and His higher power. Want power to get higher and I'm not allowed, I'm not allowed,” hissed out of him, his gruff tone holding a certain bitterness as his band began to play behind him.
    “When you look up, what will you see?” he seemed to ask his audience before the lights flashed on over his head and red smoke began to pour from beneath his feet.
    “Don't need a motherfucker looking down on me, motherfucker looking down on me,” growled the rocker, transforming into something almost not human as he crouched down to touch the stage with one hand.
    “Least I know wherever I go, I got the devil beneath my feet,” came a declaration as he knocked on the hard surface of the stage with his knuckles. Then he was straightening, giving a few good stomps as he repeated the line.
    “Don't bring your black heart to bed. When I wake up you best be gone or you'd better be dead,” demanded the center of this dark universe, all eyes on his lithe form as he began to pace. While he moved, the stage seemed to shift and break apart; as if something was coming from deep inside the platform while he repeated the line.
    “This is what happens when you put an apple on your head,” he snarled before kneeling as if to talk down to the audience. Dark, long claws scraped the polished surface of the stage behind him, a hulking figure emerging.
    “You could laugh all day but you can't laugh the darkness away. Can't laugh the darkness away,” he whispered, turning to look at the horned silhouette with an expression of reverence and fear.
    “Too many pills and not enough kills. I need a bug out, sold that big house,” he belted out as he straightened to fully face the animatronic devil that now shared his stage.
    “Neva take me alive, never take me alive, never fucking take me alive,” he spat at the huge thing, a spotlight coming on over it just as smoke escaped its nostrils.
    “It's better to be blamed for robbing Peter than guilty for paying Paul,” husked his voice while he glared at his new friend, the red creature looking rather intimidating despite being an oversized puppet. Then he was turning toward his audience to repeat his declaration, gesturing to the demon looming over him.
    The rest of the show went off without a hitch, the crowd roaring in approval while he limped off the stage with Twiggy’s help. “You need to stop overexerting yourself. You aren’t as young as you used to be,” admonished the guitarist while the rest of the band followed. The only outlier was the new guy on drums, a vaguely confused expression on his young, makeup covered face. He still travelled in a separate vehicle and would likely be all too glad to leave when Ginger came back, not that any of the group would really miss him.
    “Thanks Twigs, I can always count on you to tell the straight up truth,” the obviously tired superstar grumbled playfully, leaning into his ex while he was led to the dressing room. In his condition, it was unlikely he would make it to the tour bus without a rest first. Besides, the newbie looked like he could use a drink after some of the shenanigans he had witnessed.
    Just before they had gone on stage, Pogo had decided a resurgence of his ‘Wonder Penis’ was in order. In quick succession, he had shoved his unshaven genitalia into the temp’s face; cackling all the while. The poor boy had been a mixture of violated and scared that none of them had seen in a long time. The mohawked menace had beaten that out of them long ago. The only one that still reacted was Ginger, making his absence sorely felt. Especially by the manic keyboardist.
    On top of being the butt of Manson’s temper, the drummer was Gacy’s favorite chew toy. Without him around, the troublemaking musician hadn’t really had an outlet for his mischievous ways. Everyone else was either too dangerous to bother or savvy to his methods. That made the temp his new target and the stress was beginning to show after such a long time. The replacement percussionist had started developing an interesting twitch in his right eye, avoiding the other band members whenever they weren’t in concert. “I’ll start heading to the hotel,” said musician informed, not even stopping to assess the condition of his current boss.
    Leaning back in the chair he had been led to, Manson ignored the declaration; closing mismatched eyes while Twiggy pressed a fresh bottle of water into his palm. “Thanks Jeo, you’re a doll,” he groaned, taking a deep pull from the opened bottle. The cold liquid helped soothe his burning throat and brought him some measure of peace as he felt his tight muscles begin to unwind.
    “Course Bri, its the least I can do. Can’t just sit by and let ya kill yourself. Not when ya have a lovely girl waiting for you back home,” the switch guitarist cooed, pressing a kiss to his former lover’s paint smeared temple.
    Humming in approval, the Pale Emperor leaned into the thin form beside him; closing his eyes as he felt tiredness overwhelm him. “Should move to the bus. Won’t be able to walk for much longer,” husked out of him, barely sounding like his voice at all. Next thing he knew, he was swept up in Tim’s arms; the much taller Swede carrying him through the hall that led outside. Instead of fighting it, he simply allowed himself to fall into a deep sleep; trusting his band mate to keep him safe while he was vulnerable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Back in California~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Picking at the food on the plate in front of her, Amanda had to fight to keep a wince of pain from showing on her pale face. As she expected, the contractions were getting worse over time; it was just happening a lot faster than she had thought it would. In two hours, they were already coming close to being fifteen minutes together; making her more than a little nervous. While she didn’t want to leave Raven here, she really only wanted Ginger with her. Just thinking of the possibility of her childhood companion seeing her lady bits was more than a little mortifying.
    Unfortunately, Jerome had left a few minutes ago to do grocery shopping. With the way things were looking, the former artist would be alone. An idea that filled the journalist with a feeling of foreboding. Still, another contraction tightening across her stomach made it clear she had no choice in the matter. So, with a shamed grimace, she turned her gaze to an obviously nervous Ginger. “Um, hun... We should probably grab my bag and make our way to the hospital,” she whispered, not too surprised when her words were like a depth charge going off in a shallow pond. Things went from calm to complete chaos in a matter of seconds.
    Ginger sprinted upstairs while Raven seemed torn between staying with her or going with the drummer. Thankfully, the other woman decided to stay; setting the heavily pregnant writer at ease. “Okay Mandy, uh kinda seems you’re calmer than me already. That’s probably not a good thing, is it?” she tried to joke, her smile looking more pained than anything. When the laboring woman only laughed in return, she relaxed just slightly.
    “Its what I expected Raven. I’ll be fine. Probably won’t be home tonight but I’ll make sure Ginger stays in contact as much as possible,” the brown haired reporter assured, still giggling as her husband barreled down the stairs with wide, scared eyes.
    “I got the bag. Is lil sis coming?” he gasped out, resembling his assumed last name more now than he ever had before. The comparison was so uncanny that even the petrified illustrator had a hard time holding back laughter.
    As much as she wanted to accompany this woman who had been in her life since she could remember, Raven realized this was an extremely intimate moment. Besides, she didn’t relish the idea of seeing someone she considered a relative up in stirrups. “No, I think you got this Ging. Just let me know how things go,” she responded before Amanda could, hoping the other female wouldn’t take offence to her bowing out. When the curly haired female looked relieved, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders.
    “Thank you for saying it first. I would have felt awful if I had to ask you to stay here. Keep the doors locked and we’ll see you in a few hours,” the journalist sighed before she was allowing her husband to lead her to the door.
    “Good luck!” Raven called as the door clicked shut.
    As soon as they were gone, she was turning the deadbolt; only feeling marginally safer with the entry locked. If her father wanted to, he could easily break his way in. Shaking herself to get rid of the disturbing image, she moved back into the living room to watch some cartoons. While the fact that both her father and her exs were lurking out there honestly terrified her, she couldn’t allow herself to dwell on things that might never happen. Mostly due to the fact that, despite how dangerous he was, her father was a massive coward. The likelihood of him doing anything was fairly minimal.
    Watching as the pair got into the car and drove away, mean eyes glittered as a deep laugh rumbled from a hulking figure hidden in the bushes. “This is what we’ve been waiting all this time for. She’s alone and vulnerable. We just need a good way to get in. Given that she recognizes all of us and she’s already on guard, I doubt she’d open the door for us,” the oldest of the trio murmured, keeping his voice low in an effort not to draw attention.
    “Well, what do you propose then? Its not like any of us can change what we look like at the drop of a hat,” grumbled the younger, clean shaven form to his right, sounding almost petulant. The only person that stayed silent was the goateed male to his left. In fact, he looked pale and outright uncomfortable with the whole thing.
    “Have nancy boy here pretend to be that bodyguard. Bet he could pull off that thug’s voice perfectly,” declared the lead of the operation, sneering down at the man that glared up at him.
    “I really don’t want any part of this. We’re talking about ganging up on a pregnant woman who has done practically nothing to any of us,” Miah spat out, regretting the fact he had ever gotten involved in the first place. The further this went, the worst he felt about it. He was even considering breaking up with Tony over it, not really liking the side of his partner that he was seeing.
    This crazed, dark, obsessed person was not the man he had fallen in love with. In fact, seeing his boyfriend like this was making him wonder what what he had ever seen in the man in the first place. “Like I said before, its a little late to back out now,” growled a demand from above him, the sound of a knife sniking open making his blood freeze in his veins. Licking his dry lips, he looked down to a see a switchblade being waved in his face.
    “Now, unless you want a piece of your face to go missing, you’ll do exactly as I tell ya,” growled the father of the woman he had once loved.
    Knowing he would get no help from Tony, Miah nodded reluctantly; moving out of the bush to walk to the front door. Each step forward filled him with a sick feeling, making him wish he could just turn around and run away. Just put as much distance between himself and this horrible business as he could. Only one thing kept him from giving in, the knowledge he would likely be the one to call the police while the others were distracted. If he left now, Meagan would probably die; a fact he wouldn’t be able to live with.
    Humming to herself as she watched the beginning of Spongebob, Raven found herself relaxing despite the fact her best friend was in labor and had left for the hospital moments before. In fact, she seemed to be the center of attention; Mystery and Lady on either side of her while Lily occupied her lap. Scratching the white cat’s ears, she startled when she heard the doorbell echo through the empty house. “Huh, wonder who that could be,” she mused to herself as she got to her feet to head to the front door. She was only stopped when she felt a light tug on her pants leg.
    Looking down, she saw Lady pulling on the denim; a strangely worried expression on her canine face. “Hey, its okay pup. Probably just Jerome home early. If it isn’t, there’s no reason for me to open the door,” she reassured, feeling a bit apprehensive despite her own words. In all the time she had owned the mutt, she’d never seen the dog act like this. It was almost as if the animal could smell something she couldn’t, putting her slightly on edge. So, needless to say, she approached the door with a degree of caution.
    “Who is it?” called her wavering, unsure voice while her heart crawled its way into her throat.
    “Just Jerome ma’am. Could you open the door? My arms are a bit full,” responded a familiar baritone that filled her with relief as well as made her feel a bit silly.
    “Yeah, sure. Sorry I can’t help you carry anything too heavy,” chirped out of her while she swung the door open with a welcoming smile.
    In an instant, all good humor fell off her visage as she took in the face of one of her exs before her. The shameful glance he was giving her certainly wasn’t helping, a murmured apology coming out of him just as she caught movement over his shoulder. Next thing she knew, she was being shoved into the house while her beloved pet barked and snarled. Gasping as she found a bulging forearm jammed in her throat, Raven craned her eyes upward while true terror dump into her body. Staring down at her with a malicious smile was her father, Tony close on his heels. “Hey babe, figured you needed a bit of a family reunion,” the near psychotic male purred, a fair amount of ill intent in his sky blue eyes.
    That was when Terry was lifting the expectant female by her throat, biceps tensing as his lips curled back to show his teeth in an expression vaguely reminiscent of a snarl mixed with a smile. “You didn’t tell me the good news baby. You should have told me you were expecting,” the trembling beast hoisting her husked out, a strange light shining in his own eyes. Then he was slamming her onto the hard tile before kicking the medium sized dog away, ignoring the canine’s squeals of pain as she ran away.
    “Always hated that useless rat,” hissed the monstrous facsimile of her father as he was slowly raising as tightly balled fist.
    Eyes going wide, the former freelancer curled around her small dome to protect her growing baby just before she received a hard blow to her ribs. Gagging as she found the breath knocked out of her, Raven closed her eyes on instinct as she made herself as small as possible. Already, memories of her childhood were invading; none of the scenarios that had happened ever being this bad. While he had yelled at her and had hit her a few times, he had never been this crazed; this bent on seeing her in pain. A sudden kick to her back jolted her out of her thoughts, a faint squeal leaving her while her muscles rebelled and cramped.
    Outside, Miah could only wince as he heard the pair get started; the sounds of fists and shoes hitting skin all too clear. Feeling faintly nauseous, he used their distraction to step off to one side; pulling his phone from his jeans pocket. Punching in a certain, three digit number; the goateed male began to pace while an operator picked up. “Hello? I’d like to report a pregnant woman getting attacked by two men,” he husked out, striding to his well hidden car and pulling out his car keys in the process.
    At some point, Raven’s consciousness had simply slipped away; heading to her safe place. Right now, it was only her body’s natural drive that was protecting her baby and nothing else but she just couldn’t care about that right now. Not while in this place where nothing mattered. As long as she was here, she wouldn’t feel the pain. She wouldn’t feel them pull at her hair while punching and kicking her prone body. She wouldn’t feel herself get lifted by her thick locks, only to get punched viciously in the face. She wouldn’t hear the biting slurs flung at her while the pair assaulting her tried to uncurl her so they could get at her occupied womb. All she had to worry about was remaining peaceful and just watching the clouds float by on a purple sky.
    Even when the paramedics tried to rouse her, she didn’t leave. She stayed buried deep inside herself, even as they attached all manner of tubes to her arms and covered her face with an oxygen mask. Faintly, she could hear echoes of the bad ones that had driven her here; their yells making her feel faintly anxious. A sin in this place. A place meant to protect her and soothe her. So she simply shoved the sounds away, only aware of the voices of the people helping her. From the sounds of it, they were taking her to the hospital; asking who they should call. “Owner of the house is Brian Hugh Warner. We should call him and tell him what happened,” declared a much older voice as she became aware of a lifting sensation.
    Uncaring of what was going on and sure she was safe anyway, she continued to watch the clouds. Besides, she didn’t dare leave until he came back. The safe one, the one that she trusted with her very life. Surely, he wouldn’t allow anything bad to happen. Surely he would make it safe to leave here. So she waited, even when she heard a panicked baritone purring in her ear; begging her to wake up. She waited, smiling at the floating balls of cotton in her imaginary world.
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Long, Hard Road Out of Hell