Rough Music

	The band was playing that night.  Her band.  Loud and rough, just like always.  She was the lead singer you see.  She was the one who troubled my mind.  We started dating two months ago.  By the middle of the second month we first made love.  Since then, we’d set up a regular basis of loving each other after every concert and at 10:00 p.m.  Why 10?  I really don’t know.  It was almost like she wasn’t real, but she was.  A tall beautiful Shepherd-morph, with her funny German accent, like all German Shepherd’s.  People gave us funny looks as we walked down the street.  The two gothic freaks, a black wolf and a  shepherd.  Fuck ‘em.  They wouldn’t understand any ways.
	This night I felt different.  I felt like I had found something I missed before.  When she sang, crying her heart out into that microphone, I was in a surreal place, one of my imagination.  I was standing  back stage, watching only her.  I could not avert my gaze from her.  I had found what I missed at first.  I was actually in love.  Sure, all couple say, I love you, but for most it’s just bull sh*t to get them in bed.  That’s what I thought we were doing.  Humoring each other so we could get each other into bed.  But I realized, that from the moment I saw her, I clung to her.  I wanted her.  I felt comfortable just standing by her side and not talking.  Her presence had so much power over me.
	Carry me through,
	To The End I stand.
	Never gonna give up.
	Never gonna go away.
	Everybody always said,
	I would never make it.
	So I turned around and screamed.
	You’ll never ever take it!
	Away, from, me.
	Her music.  Her anger at her parent, her family who threw her out.  I sympathized with her completely, and still do.  The show was about to end.  She gave me a wink from the stage and I smiled, throwing my self into the mosh pit.  This was our regular routine.  Near the end of the concert I would shove my way through and jump up on stage with her, screaming out the last words of the song.  I pushed and shoved through, pulling myself up to the stage I stood next to her and I was free.
	GET, A-WAY FROM ME!
	And the lights went out.  Something was wrong.  This wasn’t planned, yet the furries yelled, screamed, and whistled their appreciation.  Perhaps it was just another power surge.  I hoped.  I looked at the wall, seeing it explode, debris flying everywhere, people screaming and getting hit.  I looked to my side and saw her lying under a pile of debris, dead.  I looked up and screamed in hatred at the rocks about to fall upon me as well.  I gasped, realizing it wasn’t real.
	“Are you okay?” Krystal asked me.
	“I’m fine.  Everything’s okay.”
	That’s when the wall really exploded.  I leapt into Krystal pulling her away from the fate I saw before hand.  The explosion was over quickly and furries in urban camouflage and black hoods entered the room, toting sub machine guns.
	“Everybody stay on the ground and no one will get hurt!” one of them screamed, obviously the leader, considering his gun was a fully sized automatic rifle.
	“Shit.” I whispered.
	The terrorist leader was coming our way.
	“Whatever happens, I love you.” I whispered to Krystal, kissing her before he kicked me in the ribs.
	It hurt like hell.  I gave a yelp from the pain as another kick from his steel plated combat boots sent me into the wall.
	“Get the fuck up.” He yelled, pointed his rifle at me.
	I couldn’t move.  I weakly tried, but I had no energy.
	“I said, Get the “fuck” up!”
	He kicked me again.
	“Why don’t you stop kicking him so he can try!” some punker shouted.
	A gunshot ran out.  The punker screamed.  I looked at him grabbing his knee.
	“I don’t give a fuck what you have to say.”
	Quickly counting the terrorists, I saw that there was the leader and two more inside, and three more at the door.  One stepped outside and was keeping watch.  I pushed myself from the ground and growled at the terrorist.  He turned.  With quick hands I punched him in the face and wrenched the rifle out of his hands, pulling the trigger.  The rifle had quite a kick.  Holes opened up in the leader’s chest, and he fell to the ground, his tiger tail showing.  I fired at the other two, hitting one in the head by pure luck, and shredding the others knees.  All of the punkers were on the ground.  Krystal and managed to get hold of one of the fallen terrorist weapons and opened fire on the three at the door.  I opened fire as well.  They were firing at me.  They all went down in the end, but felt my shoulder wrench itself out of the socket.  I popped the dislocated bone back in, through the extreme pain and fell to the ground, dropping the empty clipped weapon.  The sirens were getting close.  I lost consciousness before they got there.
	When I woke up, Krystal was there.  She was crying, looking down at me.
	“Did you truly mean what you said earlier?” She asked.
	I nodded, unable to speak.  She broke down over me, laying next to me on the hospital bed.  She cried on my shoulder.  She cried tears of love.