TURN ME ON, DEAD MAN

Chapter Eight

The next morning, Rory and Amy awoke when the Doctor knocked on their door and got them up at 4 a.m. They went to separate bathrooms and got ready for the day. Amy went back up to the wardrobe room after freshening up. She chose a knee length purple paisley dress that had pockets so she could still keep the postcard with her and she kept her go-go boots. After checking herself in the mirror, she went back downstairs with her purse. She met Rory and the Doctor in the console room. Both Rory and the Doctor were still in the same outfits they had on yesterday. Amy rolled her eyes at her husband.

"You're getting to be as bad as him," she said, pointing to the Doctor.

"My clothes aren't dirty," Rory said defensively. "Besides they're comfortable."

"Yes, why change clothes when they work so well on your body?" the Doctor said.

"Men..."Amy muttered, rolling her eyes.

They walked out of the TARDIS and headed back down the street to Paul's house. By the time they got there, Paul was waiting by the house. He was wearing a leather jacket and had his fedora and sunglasses on in addition to a false mustache and small beard on his chin. Jane was standing beside him when they walked up and they both waved. Jane was slightly shorter than Paul, thin and statuesque with long red hair that was a shade lighter than Amy's. It came down to her shoulders but for the moment she had pulled it back in a ponytail. She was dressed in a yellow top with brown trousers and flip flops.

"Mornin'," he said as he and Jane walked towards them. "Jane wanted to greet you before we walked off."

"I'm cooking Paul's breakfast and since you've kind enough to walk with him this morning, I'll fix enough for all of you. An English breakfast will be waiting for you when you come back."

"Thank you, that would be lovely," the Doctor said while Amy and Rory nodded.

"Jane takes care of me. I have to walk just to work off the calories from her cooking, otherwise I'd be as big as a zeppelin," Paul said, patting his stomach. "And...because Amy is concerned about my safety, I decided to put a false beard and mustache on this morning."

"And I'm glad he did," Jane said. "Ever since he told me about that Mister Brown and Jones I've been worried about him."

"I'll be alright, love, promise. Quit worrying, yeah?" Paul said.

The Doctor, Amy and Rory smiled when Paul kissed her lips for thirty seconds before pulling away. He waved at Jane with everyone else and she waved back, going back inside the house when they walked away.

"My mustache and beard are from the opening scene of Hard Day's Night," he said to them as they walked. "When I was hiding from the screaming girls with my grandfather. I kept it, figured it would come in handy sometimes and I just put a bit of spirit gum on them and hey presto, I have facial hair. It's not much of a disguise but not many people are out at 5 a.m. and the ones that are usually are heading to work and don't have time to stop and look. But I've tried to take a morning walk ever since I was a teenager back in Liverpool. I find it relaxing, more so now that I'm famous and can't walk around like I used to. Jane doesn't fancy morning walks though. Sometimes Tara will walk with me but that's not very often either so it's nice to have company for a change."

"Who's Tara? Another lady friend?" Amy said.

Paul chuckled.

"No, Tara's a bloke. Tara Browne."

Paul frowned when Amy shrugged and said, "I don't know who that is." The Doctor looked back at her.

"Tara Browne mum's is heir to the Guinness fortune."

"Correct," Paul said, "and his dad's a baron so he's very wealthy and a bit of a playboy. He's a nice chap though. He's good for a laugh and he's one of the few people who understand what it's like to be wealthy and famous."

"He's the same one who was with you when you crashed your moped?" Amy said.

"Yeah. He went riding with me and as I was telling Amy, it was a cold, clear December night and the moon was out and I was admiring it and the moped must have hit a hole in the road because the next thing I knew I felt like I was heading towards the road in slow motion. Chipped my tooth and the chipped tooth came through my upper lip and sliced it and the spot above my left eye was bruised and bloodied. Tara took me back home and he helped Jane's dad get my lip stitched up but I still have the scars."

Rory turned so he could get a look at the scars. Everyone stopped with Paul and he pointed to a spot on the left side of his upper lip. Everyone leaned in close and saw faint scars just under the mustache.

"Ouch," Rory said.

"I didn't really feel it, to be honest. The stitches hurt more than the accident. I told Amy I didn't even feel my tooth break off because it missed the nerve ending. I have the tooth capped now," he said, pointing to his left front tooth," but it took awhile for me to get it done because I kept putting it off since we were so busy. The day after it happened we filmed a short promotional film for Paperback Writer and you can see my chipped tooth. And I wore sunglasses because my eye was still swollen and I sat through the whole thing because my body was aching. The other guys wore sunglasses as well so I wouldn't look so out of place but then we ended up doing another promotional film for Rain and you can still see the chipped tooth. After that, George Martin told me to get it capped or he'd do it himself so I gave in and made an appointment."

They walked on, talking to one another, unaware that they were being followed by a man in a black trench coat. He was walking on the other side of the street, keeping to the shadows, a black fedora pulled down over his face and dark sunglasses covering his eyes. He walked slowly but not so slow he wasn't able to keep the group in sight. He reached into the pocket of his trench coat and pulled out a small black communicator. His Lord, Satan, the Prince of Darkness, had given one to all his minions so they could keep in contact with each other. He had never seen anything like it. A small box that you could speak into like a walkie talkie but it was unlike any walkie talkie he'd ever seen. Still, Satan was all-powerful and who was he to question his master. His job was to obey his orders and he and the others had been following the Beatles. He was currently assigned to Paul. He had been following him for a few months now, had learned his routine and he knew about his morning walk. However, he usually walked alone, this was the first time the three people from the studio had joined him. He guessed that they were just one of many hangers on that the Beatles brought to the studio, stray dogs that followed at their heels wherever the four of them went. Still, it didn't matter; these three were inconsequential compared to Paul. He lifted the box to his lips and pressed a small black button on the side of it.

"I'm following Paul McCartney now," he spoke softly into the tiny speaker on the top of the box.

He let go of the button.

"What is he doing?"

The voice was of Martok, Satan's second in command and the one who directly led his minions. Martok was the one he reported to. He only saw Lord Satan when it was absolutely necessary which was good because Martok was frightening to look at but nothing compared to the Prince of Darkness. He pressed the button.

"He's out for his morning walk, but there are three others with him. New people. They were at the studio yesterday so I'm guessing they're more people they found and brought back there."

"This habit of bringing strangers back to the studio is irritating, rest assured once the Beatles are under our control it will stop," Martok said. "They will be too busy working for us to entertain guests."

"What do we do in the meantime?" the man said. "What should we do with these three interlopers."

"Nothing at present. I will send Mister Brown and Mister Jones round to ask their producer one more time if they will work for us. The Beatles usually work till eleven p.m. or midnight. If they refuse us then you and Mister Brown and Mister Jones will wait outside the studio. Paul usually walks home since it's not very far from the studio. Wait till he's far enough away from the others and take him, let him be the sacrifice since he is the easiest one to kidnap. He's perfect anyway. He is filled with love and goodness and he is a being of light and the fool must die so that darkness and shadow can come in and rule the others. He is an innocent and that's exactly what we need, an innocent sacrificial lamb that will glorify our master and allow him to grow in power and strength."

"Yes," the man hissed. "I promise, Lord Martok, I will not fail you."

"You better not or you might find yourself on the sacrificial altar," Martok said angrily. "We have spent months preparing for this moment and you will not ruin it!"

"I will not fail, I swear it, he's as good as ours!" the man said.

"Good. Keep following him. I'm pretty sure his producer will refuse again and if he does, Paul is ours."

A maniacal grin spread over the man's face. He put the communicator back in his pocket and put his hands in both his pockets while he casually followed his quarry.

Martok put the communicator back in the leather pouch he had tied around his waist. He chuckled to himself thinking how gullible the humans were. His race was far from being the mythological demons the Christian Bible depicted but with their red skin, cloven hooves on their feet and long horns they certainly looked the part. They had come to Earth centuries ago with the aim of slowly manipulating the human race so that they could finally rule over them someday. In a flash of inspiration that came after reading the Christian Bible, the commander of the first expedition renamed himself Satan and made himself known to a group of humans he had been observing. These humans were power hungry, eager to extend their influence over their fellow man at any race and Satan realized that these callous, greedy humans could be used as tools in service of their ultimate plan. In another flash of inspiration, he gathered them together, convinced him he was the actual Satan and called their group Illiminati or the light bringers, a name that brought Satan and the others great amusement since these evil minded humans were anything but light bringers. He helped establish these humans in positions of power in different fields and they and their descendants with the guiding hand of Satan and his race have been slowly working behind the scenes, causing wars, depressions, genocides and disasters, manipulating the gullible humans and through the illuminati influencing everything from public opinion to fads and fashion. Centuries after they first formed the Illuminati, their influence stretched far and wide from Wall Street to the entertainment world and there was no shortage of those who were willing to give their allegiance to Satan and his minions in return for the false promise of power, drugs, women, prestige and anything else their greedy, selfish minds dreamed up.

Occasionally, there had been those who had resisted them and tried to fight back but most were quickly paid off, disgraced, subdued and in extreme cases, killed. The murders were either outright homicides or in most cases made to look like accidents or suicides. A great majority of those that were killed were replaced with doubles who had been brainwashed to act and think like the person they were replaced, their faces sculpted with plastic surgery to get them to look like the person as accurately as possible. Which was what they planned to do with the Beatles should they resist. The Beatles rocketed to the top of the entertainment world, adored by millions, thought of as rock gods. They had much influence over the populace, although at the moment that influence was mainly used to promote peace and love. It was Martok and his minion's job to use that power for their own ends. The Beatles would still be seen as messengers of light but through subtle guidance and manipulation of the humans that hung on their every word they would bring about Satan's agenda and help forward his master plan. Martok chuckled to himself. In his opinion, the humans were like the sheep that roamed aimlessly around fields, willing to follow anyone they saw as better or more important than themselves. And like sheep, eventually these same humans would be led to slaughter and someday, he and his race would rule the Earth with absolute authority.

His ears perked up when he heard Satan summoning him from the other room. Their main headquarters used to be a warehouse until they converted it. For the human's benefit, they put satanic symbols up all over the place, but these symbols meant nothing to him and his people, it was merely all part of the deception. He went into the next room which used to be someone's office. The office part had been preserved so Satan would have a workarea. He had a large desk made out of teak wood with a black computer chair and two wooden chairs in front of the desk for other people to use. The wooden bookcase behind him held books, papers and manila folders filled with information on various people. There was a small wall clock on the left side of the wall and one lone light bulb hanging from a light fixture above his head, other than that the office had nothing else in it. Satan gestured to one of the chairs in front of him and Martok sat down.

"Have you heard anything from your spies?" Satan said.

"Yes. Mister Johnson just reported in. He's following Paul McCartney as he takes his morning walk. There are three others with him, friends that apparently followed him to the studio last night and haven't left yet. Mister Brown and Mister Jones are going to ask George Martin one more time if they will comply with our demands, if not, I instructed Mister Johnson to kidnap Paul and bring him here."

"Excellent. We've allowed that band too much freedom for too long; it's time we were telling them what to do. Since you have chosen Mister McCartney, I will have the other doubles destroyed and prepare William Campbell to take his place. "

"Yes, Satan, I will incinerate the other doubles and bring William Campbell to you for final instructions."

"Excellent. Is there anything else?"

"No, that was all he had to report."

"Very well. Go and keep monitoring Mister Johnson. Tonight, we finally make our move."

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