Page 67 of Disharmony

“What’re you going to do?” Ripper asks, pulling on his crow mask. I hear the smile in his voice underneath it. My growl claws at the back of my throat waiting to be unleashed, and the music hasn’t even started yet. “We can’t turn her away.”

He’s right. It’s too late to back out now.

twenty

Ash

The building is nothing special, just like the other gray-bricked two-story houses on the street. All that sets it apart is a silver snake-shaped knocker that Ripper told me would confirm it’s the right place.

I knock for the second time.

There is shuffling noise on the other side of the wall, but nothing.

I frown, deciding not to text Ripper yet. Who wants to come across as desperate? A few moments later, the door flies open. I jump back to avoid it taking me out.

“You must be Ash,” Zed growls.

He sounds pissed, or maybe that’s just his normal voice. His tone is unnaturally deep and makes the hairs on my arms stand on end. He looms ominously in the doorway. Anyone else would be deterred when confronted by a stranger dressed as the Grim Reaper, but my mouth falls open in awe.

“H-h-hi,” I stammer.

Zed steps aside. “Come in.”

It’s strange to hear him talk. The Basilisks don’t do interviews. Occasionally, they are featured in an obscure magazine or publish a blog on their website, but the only time they speak is when they’re addressing the crowd during their shows.

Zed leads me into the studio. Over his shoulder, I see Venom sitting upright on one of the sofas like he’s about to jump and run any second. Ripper is lounging across the other, slurping a drink through a hole in his mask.

I blink hard to stop myself from gawping at them like an idiot. I wasn’t sure whether they would be in costume or not, but I’m glad they are. The Basilisks are more than three men. They mean something. What they stand for transcends the physical form. Unmasking them would take away some of the power they hold.

“Ripper didn’t tell us you were coming until ten minutes ago,” Zed says, glaring pointedly at his bandmate in accusation.

Does he want me to leave?

I blush and struggle to look at Zed. His glowing yellow contact lenses make him look like a cat, and he’s looking at me like I’m a mouse.

“Don’t be rude to our guest, Zed.” Ripper tuts. He puts down his soda and gestures to a spare chair opposite him. Black feathers cover his entire face, and a beak protrudes from his forehead—at least I think it’s a beak. It’s twisted at the end which makes it look like a horn of some kind. Ripper turns to me. “Ignore him, Ash. He’s not used to visitors. Why don’t you sit down? I can show you more of what I’ve been working on.”

Even though Zed’s in a mask, I detect a scowl behind it from the frosty atmosphere and hesitate. I don’t want to be the awkward gate crasher everyone can’t wait to get rid of.

I ignore Ripper and address Zed directly, “Are you sure you want me to stay?”

“You may as well,” Zed grumbles. “You’re here now.”

“So, that’s Zed,” Ripper says, continuing with introductions. “He’s not always this much of a pain in the ass, but it’s been a while since he got laid.”

Venom chuckles. His mask reminds me of a jack-o’-lantern. I’ve seen him wearing it in photos and videos and have to stop myself from fangirling. He wears it more than other masks and, on the Basilisk forums, people wonder about its significance, but he’s never explained the reason why.

“This is Venom,” Ripper says, then winks. “He doesn’t talk much.”

“Fuck you, Ripper,” Venom quips in a robotic tone that makes me jump. His mask must be filled with a voice changer like the one Ripper wore when I first met him. “No one can talk much when you’re around.”

“Ripper says you’re a musician,” Zed says.

It’s more of a statement than a question.

“I guess,” I say, taking a seat and being aware of all their eyes burning into me. “I mean, yeah. I am. But not like you guys… I’m not a professional.”

“You go to Camp Harmony?” Venom asks.

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