~~Chapter 7~~
~~The Unknown Index~~
"Hey, this is Michael....yeah, I want a plane to Russia....yes, by tomorrow...thanks."
He needed to escape. Somewhere.
Lisa thought it over.
You know what? Let him suffer. He's just gonna do what he wants to no matter what you say. She sighed.
"Why won't he listen to me, for once??"
The phone rang. She knew who it was and she just wanted to sit there and let it ring. But she knew she couldn't.
"Hello?"
"Lisa," the deep, familiar and whispery voice said on the other line.
"Master, I don't know what you're doing to Michael but--"
"But what?" The Master interrupted. "You are never to tell me what to do, remember?"
"Yes, Master." Lisa sighed.
"Michael is the one that wanted to 'learn', right? I'm the one who will teach him. Not you."
"Yes, Master." Lisa agreed hopelessly.
"Now," the deep voice said. "It's time for him to learn his first lesson, Evil One. You will be the one to assist me."
The next day, Michael grabbed his packed bags and went to the airport. Driving in the limo, he knew his fans had found out where he was going. But he didn't mind the fans. At least they weren't trying to kill him...well some of them. There was a mob of fans at the airport. Michael's new presiding bodyguard said, "You know, if they don't see you they can't--"
"Yeah, I know." Michael said. He was beginning to miss Jeff and Whyan. Lately it had been really kicked into his mind that both of them were dead. But her didn't want to think about it. He just wanted to relax and take his mind off of those things.
Michael and his bodyguards hurried out of the limo until they came to a safe area by the plane. Policeman held the mob of fans back, and there was a metal railing also to stop the fans. Michael blew kisses to them and looked at all the posters. Michael smiled for the first time in a long time. Suddenly the metal railing started to break and the fans screams became louder. It seemed like less than a second before the mob of fans came running towards him. Michael ran as fast as he could toward the plane but a fanatic teenager grabbed him by the collar and pulled him to the ground. The mob began to circle around him. THis was good because only a few fans were pulling at him and the deafening screams died down.
"Michael!" a deep voice called his name. A policeman pushed through the crowd and reached his hand out to him. Michael grabbed his hand and covered his face with his arm. Still bent over close to the ground, he followed the policeman to the plane.
Michael took a seat on the plane and slowed his racing heartbeat. That was one of the worst mobs he's been in a long time. Michael examined the scratches on his hands. His scalp was stinging badly. They had pulled on his hair really hard.
"Are you okay?" his bodyguards said all at once.
Michael nodded. "Yeah, I think so."
Michael looked out the window. He thought it was strange that the fans were still crowded around the same spot he was in. He then saw a fan fighting for his life in the middle of the mob. He was dressed exactly like Michael.
"Hey! Hey! Look!" Michael cried. The policemen and bodyguards looked out the window and saw what was happening. They hurried out of the plane. Michael watched all the action from inside. The policemen tried their best to break up the crowd. Soon the fans had calmed down. The crowd broke up and the policemen stood over a body that way laying on the same spot that Michael had fell when he was stuck in the mob. One of his bodyguards came on to the plane searching for his cell phone.
"Hey, what happened?" Michael asked. The bodyguard paused.
"One of your fans is dead. He was suffocated by the mob."