The Road To Hell

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, ENJOY!





MANSON'S POV





One hundred and fifty-one mother fucking times I have called and Angel still doesn't answer. I have been calling all fucking night.



I decided to dial out her number, once again, with the same result. Once the voicemail picked up, I began to cry this time. "Answer your goddamned phone, now!", I roared.



I threw my phone down on the table in front of me, that was littered with papers, then wept like a bitch.



Trent rested a hand on my shoulder and gently patted it. "Come on, man, get some sleep and in the morning we can fly back to California. You're not going to get any work done in this condition anyways", he told me as he pried me away from the table I was sitting at.



But, even though he helped me get to bed, took my phone, and turned the lights off, I couldn't sleep. I needed to know what was going on with Angel. She has been so cold with me lately and I just want to get to the bottom of what's going on.



I don't want to even entertain the thoughts I have of her seeing another man, because I would snap and want to murder them both....And then there's the possibility of her being on drugs again, or maybe she's drinking more heavily, perhaps Sarah is having a negative influence on her? Every time she's around Sarah and Pogo, she acts different.



I tossed and turned in bed until I saw the sun peaking in the sky....It has been another sleepless night because I'm stressing about Angel.



"Fuck this shit", I muttered to myself, quietly tossing my blanket aside and climbing out of bed. I decided to deal with my anger and pain the only way I knew how, by cutting myself open until I was on the brink of passing out and then get high.



Trent still does drugs, so I knew he had some Vicodin with him somewhere. He was lying in the bed across the room from me, so I scanned his nightstand and the floor near him, until I found what I was looking for next to him in his bed in a little bag, taking 5 of the 20 cylinder shaped white pills.



Sure, I felt guilty, but given the situation I'm sure it's excusable.



Next, I slipped into the bathroom as my vision began to blur. I rooted through the cabinet looking for my object of desire, tossing everything inside carelessly to the floor until my hand met a cheap plastic disposable razor. Perfect.



Without giving it a second thought, I began smashing the plastic against the sink until the razor fell out into the sink, with a light clinking sound.



Within seconds I pulled off my shirt and sat in the cold porcelain bathtub, then began to press the blade against my chest, pausing a moment before dragging it across.



I nearly moaned at the release it gave me, so much pent up hurt, anger, and stress were all relieved. I haven't cut in so long because I haven't really had a reason to until lately.



As blood drained from my body, on top of the Vicodin kicking in, I began to feel myself losing consciousness until my vision was completely tunneled and everything went white.



***



"Fuck, don't die on me, man. You're going to be okay", I heard, the voice was familiar, but sounded so far away. "Manson, Manson wake up", I heard the voice calling, soon realizing it was Trent.



I felt cold water spraying down on my body as my eyes fluttered open and saw Trent leaning in a few inches from my face. When he saw my eyes open, he released a deep breath he must have been holding and seemed relieved.



"Goddamn, Manson, you scared the hell out of me. For a minute I thought you were dead", Trent gasped.



"I'm fine", I retorted and tried to stand, but my knees buckled and Trent had to catch me.



"You're not fine, you stopped breathing several times, I'm on the phone with help now....", Trent began, but stopped talking as I reached to grab his phone, hanging up on the operator.



"I said I'm fine, I don't need to go to the fucking hospital and have them thinking this is some suicide attempt", I hissed, shakily stepping out of the bathtub and over to the medicine cabinet to clean my wounds.



Trent stood in shock, seemingly about to protest, but I just gave him a stern look and waved my hand through the air, hoping he would drop it. And fortunately he did, but he wouldn't stop staring at me as if I were some type of animal.



I had all of 5 minutes of peace until my thoughts returned to Angel, what she was doing, is she okay....



"Has Angel called me?", I asked Trent, looking at him through the mirror.



He was hesitant to respond, but just slowly shook his head no.



I growled lowly in my throat and swung the bathroom door open, rushing to get dressed and hurry to the airport to catch the next plane to California. It was already 5 in the evening, and she hasn't fucking called. I suppose it is a good thing after all that I have some hours to settle down on the plane or there is no telling what I would do to Angel when I see her for disrespecting me.



***



"Just give her the benefit of the doubt, don't blow up on her before you have all the details", Trent said as he pulled up the driveway to the house.



I nodded irritated, slinging the car door open, but fully intended on blowing up on her, of course I would. There's no fucking excuse for her. I have went out of my way to make her happy and this is how she repays me.



I noticed Angel's car was missing from the driveway, but I slammed the front door open to look inside for her anyway. I checked each room, growing more angry by the second, ultimately concluding that she was in fact not home. In noticing that Sarah wasn't home either, I knew she defied me and went to work with her.



"Fuck!", I yelled, slamming my fist against the table. The only one that may know where she is, is Pogo. He surely would know where Sarah worked.



I pulled out my phone and dialed Pogo's number, hoping that when I went to the strip club, Angel wouldn't be there. Hoping that she respected me enough to respect when I have a problem with her working somewhere that would disrespect me, herself, and our relationship.



"Hello", Pogo answered, slurring. I swear this motherfucker is always high....



"Pogo, I need to know the address to where Angel and Sarah are working", I said, much too quickly.



Pogo hesitated, as if debating on whether or not he should tell me. I'm sure it's because he knew I was mad at Angel for deciding to work there, so I quickly thought of an excuse that he wouldn't be suspicious of....



"....I'm back from New Orleans early and want to go surprise her at her job and apologize for blowing up on her when she told me about working there. Fuck, maybe I will even get a dance from her while I'm there", I said, forcing out a small chuckle. At least it was only a partial lie, I was going to surprise her alright, but it wouldn't be to apologize or get a dance, it will be to drag her out of the club by the hair on her goddamned head.



Pogo sighed and reluctantly gave me the address, and I didn't even wait for his reply to hang up the phone and scurry out the door to my car.



As I drove, I was seething. That sneaky little fucking bitch, her disrespect and disregard for my orders were getting out of hand. Perhaps I have been being too passive with her and needed to put my foot down again. The only way some people will listen is through brute force, so maybe that's what was needed and I was right in doing so all along.



It didn't take long to arrive at the strip club, but I still didn't get there fast enough. I jumped out of the car, my rage boiling unbearably, I could hear my blood swooshing and my heart thumped heavily against my chest.



A large man that was presumably the bouncer was at the front of the doors, blocking me access to entering the club.



"Excuse me, there's a $20 cover fee", he explained as I continued to attempt to push pass him.



"Sir, just pay the....", he began, but I quickly reached into my pocket and pulled out all of my cash, then threw it in his face and stormed inside. I paced near the front for a moment ready for a fight because I fully expected him to follow me and try to throw me out, but much to my amazement, he didn't. Good, I could have, and WOULD have hurt him....



Now I just needed to find Angel....I had to tread through crowds of people, tonight must be busy. Each man I passed, I glared at them, knowing there was a possibility they watched my Angel dance naked. The thought enraged me further and it took a great amount of restraint to not begin punching each hungry-eyed man I pushed by, especially when I was met with an angry, colorful name each time I shoved one of the bastards aside. But no, I need to find Angel and get her out of here.



As I scanned my eyes across the sea of faces, I felt a pair of small arms grip my waist.



"Oh my God, you're Marilyn Manson, I can't believe you're here!", a half-naked, dark haired stripper exclaimed. "I'm a big fan of your music, and I must say you're so fucking hot", she continued, gently rubbing a hand down my chest, then continued to speak, "Do you want me to take you to the VIP room for a dance and maybe a little fun?", she said lowly and winked.



I stared down at her in disbelief. I wanted to yell REMOVE YOURSELF FROM ME, SLUT. She was slowing me down and preventing me from my little search, and for all I knew by this time Angel could be in one of those VIP rooms 'having a little fun' with a horny jackass who wants to fuck her. The words almost slipped from my mouth until I realized, this whore could be helpful.



I forced a smile and politely removed her hands from groping me. "No thanks, not this time. But, do you happen to know where a dancer named Angel is? I think she is using the stage name Celtic", I asked, hopeful.



The slut pursed her lips and thought for a moment. "Celtic Manson?", she asked. Celtic Manson, cute, hehe.



"I think she's still in the dressing room, she will be performing on stage in like, 10 minutes", she added, cheerfully.



"Thank you", I told the useful whore and pulled some cash from my pocket and handed it to her. I wasn't sure how much I gave her, but her face lit up and embraced me in a quick hug.



I paused for a moment, thinking of what to do next.



"Can you take me to the dressing room?", I asked her.



"Sure!", she beamed, and began pulling me along.



"So, do you have some type of 'arrangement' with her?", she asked. I grit my teeth and attempted to answer as calmly as possible, overlooking the fact she basically was asking if Angel was my whore.



"She's actually my girlfriend....Going on a year now", I answered.



"Oh my God! She never said YOU were her boyfriend", the airhead squealed. Seriously, everything about this bitch is annoying. Hmm, maybe Angel hasn't told you I'm her boyfriend because she has known you, what, all of a fucking day. Maybe I was being so testy because I was so angry with Angel.



The stripper ran her mouth for what seemed like hours nonstop, but we were only walking a minute at the longest, when we finally made it to the dressing room. She looked around to see if any bouncers were nearby, then pushed me through the beaded curtains.



"Well, I have to get back to work now. My name's Christy, I hope I will see you around sometime. Oh, and my offer for the VIP room still stands", she said, rubbing my shoulder, then left out the beaded curtains....Well then, tramp.



I turned and saw several naked women getting dressed, doing their hair, or piling on makeup, and none of them seemed to notice me. I glanced around, then in the far corner of the room saw Angel and Sarah, pulling something out of a small locker.



I wasted no time storming up to her, hearing strippers gasp and jump out of my way.



Sarah noticed me first, her eyes going wide and mouth agape, while Angel seemed to be lost in her own little world, humming to herself and steadily placing items in her locker. I tapped my foot and scowled at the back of her head until she turned around and jumped out of her skin.



"Holy fucking shit, Manson, what are you doing here?", she gasped, placing a hand over her heart that I'm sure was beating out of her chest from being caught.



"I should be asking you the same thing", I growled.



"Well, me, I'm here because this is where I work. Now what are you doing here?", Angel growled back, standing with her hands on her hips.



Sarah flinched and slowly stood from where she was sitting. She looked like she was filled with all the fear that should be hitting Angel right about now.



"I don't think now is the time to piss Manson off", Sarah whispered to Angel....Yeah, it really isn't. But Angel just shrugged nonchalantly with a glazed look in her eyes.



"I fucking specifically told your ass you were not allowed to work here and you disobeyed me....", I began, but was cut off by Angel huffing.



"Disobey?! I'm not your goddamn dog, Manson!", Angel screeched.



"No, you're my fucking woman. And as long as you are MINE, and live in my house, spend my money, eat my food, bathe in my shower, piss in my toilet, and sleep in my bed, then you will fucking obey me!", I yelled back.



"Well that's why I'm here now, to make my own money. And since you think you own me because we live together then maybe I should leave!", Angel screamed back.



"You're not fucking leaving me, you're leaving this damn job", I hissed, fighting back tears for her even suggesting leaving me.



"Get your clothes on, we are leaving now", I told Angel, pulling her roughly by her arm to her locker and throwing her clothes at her.



She ripped her arm from my grip and took a few steps back, putting distance between us. "Fuck off, you motherfucking asshole, I'm not leaving", she yelped.



All of my rage came to a head and I lost control, reaching out and slapping her across her face as hard as I could, leaving my hand stinging a bit. Angel fell backwards into her dressing table, but looked otherwise unaffected by the strike.



It was just then with all the gasping that I noticed there was a crowd of women around us, covering their mouths in shock.



"What the hell, Manson?!", Sarah gasped and ran to Angel's side.



"You fucking put your hands on me again! You promised me you wouldn't lift a hand to hit me ever again!", Angel yelled.



"Then mind your fucking muzzle, bitch, and I won't hit you", I spoke in a dangerous tone.



"Just one more reason I should leave", Angel said softly.



"You're not leaving me, I would kill us both before I let that happen. Now get your clothes on and leave with me before I fucking drag your ass out", I hissed in her ear.



Angel crossed her arms and looked up at me defiantly as Sarah was shoving clothes on her body and shaking slightly. With Sarah's fearful reaction and Angel's calm demeanor, you would think I was talking to Sarah!



"Now", I hissed out, between clenched teeth.



"No", she retorted.



"Fuck it....", I said, shrugging, then lunged towards her and grabbed a fistful of her hair.



I shoved her face towards the floor, tugging harder until she picked up her shirt and pants.



She stepped into her loose pants as I continued to grip her hair, then I pulled her shirt over her head and allowed her to shove her arms in.



A few strippers ran from the dressing room, while others sat back in shock.



"You want things the hard way bitch, fine, but you will fucking do as I say", I growled, dragging Angel out of the dressing room as she whimpered and gripped my wrist tightly, but I still didn't ease my grip I had on her blonde locks.



Without warning, I felt Sarah tugging on my arm, fruitlessly, because I wasn't letting go of Angel.



"Get off of her!", she yelled, exasperated, as she sunk her fingernails into my hand trying to get me to let go. But no, Angel had the choice to walk out of here with pride. Now she will be forcefully removed, and I don't have the slightest bit of sympathy for her.



Oddly, I was met with no resistance as I pulled Angel through the club, no one even seemed to notice. I suppose it's a good thing she isn't working here!....That is, until I got to the front door, then three burly men ran out of different directions, screaming at me.



"We are going to call the police! Let her go!", they yelled as they approached.



I grinned wickedly, not phased by their threat.



"I'm Marilyn fucking Manson, I will bail out of jail in under an hour. And then, I will be back here to torch this fucking place to the ground....with you inside", I said gruffly, stepping in fearlessly to face the men that were twice my size, then I smiled darkly.



They seemed taken aback and scared for a moment, then stepped back to let me through....Well, that was surprisingly easy. I'm getting more of a fight out of Sarah, who is currently raking her nails down my arm so hard I can see trails of blood and pounding her fists in my back.



"Sarah, I'm fucking warning you, I'm seconds away from laying your ass out if you put your hands on me one more fucking time", I snarled.



"Then, let her go! Goddamn, are you so much of a punk you have to put your hands on a woman?", Sarah called out from behind me repeatedly as I shoved Angel into the car.



"Sarah, he means it, just stop. Meet me at the house and help me pack", Angel yelled through the lowered window, and Sarah listened to her, quickly withdrawing her claws from my arm and ran to jump in her car.



"What the fuck did you say? Help you pack? What the hell did I tell you, the only way you're leaving me is in a goddamn body bag, now do I make myself clear?", I said after climbing in the car. "DO I?!", I yelled, and Angel quickly nodded. "Good", I said and shoved the key in the ignition.



The part that scares me is I truly don't know if my words are an idle threat or if I would follow through with it....



Angel remained quiet the entire drive home, curled up in a ball as close to the door as the seat would allow while Sarah drove right behind me the entire time, even running a red light to not let us out of her sight.



When we pulled up in the driveway, I looked to Angel, who still wouldn't make eye contact with me.



"I'm sorry this happened, baby", I told her as I ran my hand through her hair. It felt as if my heart stopped when she flinched and shied away from me.



"Angel, look at me", I said sternly, and I was surprised she actually listened.



"You know I would never hurt you....Unless you made me", I told her frantically, running a finger down her cheek. "I love you, but I can't ever let you leave me. I couldn't bear the pain of losing you and that's why I threatened you, but I know that you know I would never harm you....", I continued to rant until she cut me off.



"Manson, you're really scaring me. Please stop talking", she pleaded, and just then I realized I was squeezing her face between my hands.



"Y-yeah, yeah, let's just go inside, love", I told her, and she leaped out of the car and ran to Sarah, and I didn't decide to follow until a few minutes later.



"How long has he been hitting you?", I heard Sarah questioning Angel when I walked in the house, behind them.



"Mind your own fucking business and stay out of our relationship or you can get out of my house", I said, interrupting her from questioning Angel.



"If you expect me to sit back and let you abuse my friend so I can live here, then fuck you", Sarah said and stormed out of the room, presumably to go pack her shit. I felt bad making her leave, but I don't need her interfering with our relationship and I sure as hell don't need her negatively influencing Angel any more than she already has.



"I need to talk to you", I told Angel as I pulled her along to our bedroom.



"What has been going on with you lately? Are you cheating on me?", I asked flat out. Like ripping off a bandaid.



"What do you mean? No I haven't been cheating on you", she replied nervously.



"You have been acting different for the past few months, and it seems whenever I leave and come back it's worse....Are you back on drugs?", I questioned her.



"No!", she yelled defensively.



"Then what's going on? Do I need to quit working on the album so I can sit home and babysit you because I can't trust you? Do you think I'm stupid? I know something is fucking going on and I'm going to get to the bottom of it", I told her.



She answered, but I couldn't make out a work she was saying because something caught my eye....Something that looked like a small love-bite on the side of her neck when she flipped her hair over her shoulder, annoyed.



It wasn't quite a hickey, hell it could have been just about anything. But, I should check her body, if she has more, especially in intimate areas, I will have my answer.



"Take your clothes off", I demanded.



"W-what?", she stammered, stopping dead in her sentence she was in the middle of speaking that I wasn't listening to.



"You heard me, take your clothes off", I repeated. She looked at me as if I just kicked a puppy.



She continued to stare at me in shock so I spoke up again, "Goddamn, you're looking at me as if I'm going to fucking rape you. Now take your clothes off before I fucking rip them off", I threatened.



This time, she listened and shakily began pulling off her clothes.



When she removed her bra and thong.....very sexy might I add....I was by her side and began inspecting her body.



I flipped her hair over her other shoulder and inspected the sides and back of her neck. Next, I inspected her chest, breasts, and stomach, then her pussy, her thighs, and legs. Afterwards, I turned her around and inspected her ass, hips, back, and shoulders, down her arms, when something else caught my eye. Track marks on her arms. Her change in personality definitely made sense now.



She tensed when I pulled her forearms closer to me.



"What the fuck is this?", I snarled, and she tensed even more, not answering.



Tears brimmed in the corners of my eyes and I gripped her arm tighter, causing her to whimper.



"Track marks! That's what the fuck that is. You're on heroin, you stupid fucking bitch", I said, now grabbing her shoulders and shaking her slightly.



"You lied in my goddamn face, you fucking dope fiend, whore....How long?", I demanded.



"One time", she said quietly.



"You're a fucking liar!", I boomed and slapped her across her other cheek, then lifted her arm and shoved it in her face.



"Do you fucking think I'm stupid enough to believe all of this happened from one time?", I asked, gesturing towards the sea of red lines and bruised needle holes that littered her forearms.



I saw something flash in Angel's eyes that I didn't recognize, the woman in front of me no longer my Angel, but a stranger as she snatched her arm from me.



"You act like you're fucking perfect, Manson, fuck you. You were a coke-head and popped pills. I try something a few times and you're calling me a junkie!", Angel yelled, gripping her hair.



Unbeknownst to me, tears were streaming down my face. I didn't know if I should feel sorry for her or slap her. But it wasn't until just now that I realized how much of a problem she really has. It was breaking my heart.



"I helped you through this before, Angel, I will help you again", I told her, my knees buckling so I fell back on the bed.



"I don't need help, I don't have a problem", Angel informed me.



I pushed the palm of my hands into my eyes, fighting back tears to stop looking so pathetic.



"Just let me help you, Angel. Do you know how much it kills me that you're doing this to yourself and how much it hurts seeing you like this?", I said.



"Then don't fucking look at me", Angel snapped and attempted to dig through the closet, pulling out her luggage and began shoving clothes inside.



I jumped up from the bed and pulled it away from her.



"What the fuck are you doing?", I questioned.



"Leaving. I'm not staying here for this shit", she said and grabbed her bag from me.



"NO!", I boomed and slapped her once again. "Where the fuck are your drugs?", I questioned, pulling her hair. "Bring it to me", I demanded.



Much to my surprise Angel fumbled away from me, a small smirk spreading across her face. She dug through her dresser drawer a moment and pulled out a rectangular tin box and brought it over to me, shoving it in my hands.



I opened it revealing a small bag of heroin and a needle.



"This is it?", I asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.



"Yeah, I used most of it already", she said, smugly. Her reaction is not one I was anticipating.



I dragged her by her arm into into the bathroom and made her watch as I emptied the bag into the toilet and flushed it, then smashed the plastic on the needle against the counter, pricking myself on the needle and drawing blood.



She watched expressionless as I threw away the broken fragments. By this time I thought all hell would be breaking loose and she would fight me from getting rid of her shit, but she just remained completely calm. Hm, maybe it will be easier to get her off heroin than I thought.



Angel slid to the floor and began breathing heavily. Red hand prints lingered on her face and a part of me wanted to drop to my knees and kiss them all away, another part of me wanted to turn them purple.



I did break my promise in never hitting her again, but her behavior tonight merited being hit. At least I showed restraint.



"What the hell did you do to her?", I heard Sarah call out from behind me and run over to Angel.



"I thought I told you to get the fuck out of my house", I responded.



"My shit is packed, I came to get Angel", she said.



"She's not leaving and I don't want you around her anymore. You have been nothing but trouble to our relationship and her life", I told her angrily.



"You're not her damn dad, Manson. And I'm nothing, but trouble?! Her life has been slowly going downhill ever since she met you!", Sarah yelled, now standing and facing me. "I wish I would have never encouraged her to date your sorry ass. You're a pathetic excuse of a boyfriend and man", she added.



"And you call yourself her friend? Anytime she's left alone with you or has been around you for an extended period of time she is disrespectful and addicted to drugs", I said.



"You're seriously fucking blaming me because she was addicted to coke? Excuse me? Who was it that gave it to her the first time, me or you? Who was it that sat up all night on the tour bus getting high with her? Who was it that introduced her to pills and taught her ways to get higher faster? What did you think was going to happen?", Sarah asked, rhetorically. "And I was the one the whole time telling her she needed to slow down, but it was fine with you as long as you had a drug buddy", she added.



I fell silent. She was right. It was my fault and I was ridden with guilt. I should have never sat around doing drugs with her, but how could I have known? I didn't love her then, she was just someone to toy with until I got tired of her. I didn't expect us to make it this far and I didn't think of the repercussions and effects it would have on her life and my life when I did fall in love with her and truly wanted to be with her.



"I never gave her heroin", I mumbled, my only defense for myself, and her face dropped.



"You're on heroin?", Sarah asked Angel.



"No. I have done heroin, but I'm not 'on' heroin", she responded.



"Look at her goddamn arms", I told Sarah, and she turned Angel's arms over and gasped.



"How did we not see this shit earlier?", Sarah said, confused.



"I cover it with makeup, I guess it wore off tonight", she answered.



"I got rid of her stash, now I just have to get her through the withdrawals", I told Sarah as I stepped passed her to pick Angel up and carried her out of the bathroom and laid her in bed.



"Go to sleep, we will talk more about this in the morning", I told Angel and walked out of the room with Sarah trailing behind me.



"I apologize for how I spoke to you, you can continue staying here if you want", I told her, continuing to walk and not looking at her. I didn't mean to blow up on her, but Angel had me so pissed off and when I get that way, anyone in the cross hairs of my anger are liable to get blown up on, too.



She didn't answer, she just turned to go back in the room with Angel.



I went to the kitchen and poured a glass of absinthe, then reached in my pocket to pull out a handful of Vicodin Trent gave me.



I am not looking forward to the next couple of weeks of getting her off drugs. Sleepless nights, watching her in pain, crying and pleading for me to let her get high just one more time, it was exhausting. Especially with my parents coming to meet her on Christmas, this was definitely not good. But I will do anything for her and I'm up for the challenge.



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SORRY FOR THE DELAY IN GETTING THIS CHAPTER UP, BUT IT WILL PROBABLY BE THAT WAY WITH THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS AS WELL. SO MUCH IS GOING ON, BUT I WILL UPDATE AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE.