Chapter Text
From an interview with Ozzy Osbourne
Q: Did you ever experience these strange occurrences with Manson?
A: I remember we went out camping, and Manson was talking about Corey having magic powers. Everyone there thought he was crazy. But then he made a point about how things would either move or break by themselves whenever Corey was around.
Q: Did you believe him after that?
A: I mean why wouldn't I? You have tables blocking the doorway, mugs flying, and who was there when that happened? Corey was, of fucking course. I don't hate Corey, I just think it's weird that things are moving by themselves and it only happens when Corey's in the room.
Q: What do you mean by that?
A: One time, Manson told me to wait outside his office. So I waited outside his office. Apparently Corey was there, and he was yelling at Manson. I heard the window in Manson's office break. I was like, "How the fuck did he break the window so fast?" Then it sounded like he was throwing things at Corey. I guess he was mad that someone broke his window. Corey just yelled some more. I heard things breaking and this loud creaking sound. Manson yelled some more and then something hit the door to Manson's office. I was trying to get inside, but the door was blocked.
Q: And you're saying you heard all this?
A: Yes! I was standing right next to the door and heard everything. I don't know why those two were so angry but whatever the reason, it sounded like they had issues with one another.
Corey
Manson floated an inch from the ground.
"STOP THAT!" Manson screamed.
I ignored him.
Manson was pushed by an invisible pair of hands.
"STOP! COREY I'M BEGGING YOU!"
The mirrors shook violently. One by one, they fell. Landing with a loud crash. Shards hit the floor.
Manson screeched, like a scared cat.
Then he screamed the words I'd always hear whenever I made him mad.
"YOU BITCH YOU BROKE EVERYTHING! I HATE YOU! I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL KILL YOU!"
The sky was dark and gray. Thunder rumbled from above us. I stood next to Agostino that morning after he died. Agostino asked me if I could stay with them since no one else wanted to. I didn't object.
The morning fog surrounded us. We stood before Manson's grave.
"It's hard for me to remember that he wasn't buried in a graveyard," Joho said.
"Because he doesn't deserve to be buried in one," I said quietly.
Agostino didn't hear me.
"If you knew he wasn't a good person, why did you stay with him?" I remember asking.
"I thought I deserved it. I thought he still loved me because I was under the assumption that if I still loved him, he'd love me back."
"That's not true. You didn't deserve to endure Manson's bullshit just because you were dating him."
Agostino nodded and wiped away his tears.
I looked at him and said, "Joho, you're asking a dog to fly. How could you possibly think that he'd love you if he clearly always had bad intentions?"
"I thought he was different. I thought he'd change for me. I really did Corey," Agostino said through his tears.
"You can't fix people like that," I said.
Agostino nodded, still wiping away his tears again.
"I loved him, Corey. I loved him more than anything else. But I know what's more important now," Agostino said, trying his best to fight away any more tears. "He's gone now."
"What about the people that are still here with you? Don't they mean something to you?" I would ask.
"They do. I know that now. Manson was fake as fuck but I went after him like a crazy dog. But you Corey, you're real."
"What do you mean I'm real?"
For the first time in a long time, Agostino looked me in the eye. "You tried to warn me about him when I started dating him and I didn't listen. You knew him better than I did. Yet I still thought he was capable of changing."
I took Joho and Oliver to a hotel to stay in after the fire that destroyed Manson's house.
The room had two beds. Agostino used one while Oliver used the other. There were large windows in front of us. But Agostino preferred to cover them with the curtains. Above us, a chandelier glimmered dimly.
"Thank you for taking me to the dance Corey," Agostino said, smiling.
"Anytime Joho," I said.
That was the happiest I've ever seen Agostino.
I had to wait for Oliver to fall asleep so I could talk to Joho about everything.
Outside, a storm raged. The thunder boomed. Lightning flashed brightly through the curtains.
Agostino moved the curtains slightly and peered behind them.
"Joho, there's something I haven't told you," I said.
"Is this about your mind powers?" Agostino teased, turning around.
"What? No. Listen, I've been thinking about what happened back there with Manson. And I just - "
"What are you trying to say Corey?" Agostino asked in concern.
I sat down on a bed. "I'm saying that he's not the only one. Sure, other rockstars aren't as evil as Manson was, but I can't help but think who else got away with terrible shit. Or maybe I'm just fucking paranoid."
"I get what you mean Corey. After Manson died, I have a harder time trusting anyone. I have a feeling they're just as bad as he was," said Agostino. The lightning flashed behind him.
I shook my head. "No Joho, don't think like that. Manson was the worst, there's no denying that. But that doesn't mean they're just as bad as he was. Also one more thing Joho," I said.
"Yes?" Agostino asked.
"I need you to trust me. If anything bad happens, tell me about it. I don't want to see you going through shit alone," I said.
I held out my hand and made the horn. Agostino did the same.
I looked Agostino in the eye.
"Do you trust me?" I asked.
"Yes, Corey. I trust you," Agostino answered.
We shook on it.
I looked at the time on the cuckoo clock. It was ten thirty. Agostino bought that clock right when they started dating Manson. "Remember to take care of it, okay Corey?" Agostino would say whenever they came to check on it.
I thought about getting rid of it after Manson died. I had a lot of memories tied to that clock, both good and bad. The bad ones stuck with me more with that clock.
But now I remembered that this wasn't your average cuckoo clock. This clock had a small wooden version of me that would sing. It managed to wake me up every now and then. At first, I found it a little weird. It's not every day you get a clock like that. Now I can't seem to let go of it.
I was staying over for the night since some kids would always sneak into my office and steal things. Usually my masks or any of my belongings since I'm a famous person, even though I don't really see myself as that. Now that I'm here, they thought twice about breaking into my office.
My office was small, and had a little lightbulb but it had enough light to keep the darkness away. There was my desk, which was curved and was this shiny mahogany color. Behind the desk was the shelf where I kept my masks from 1999 up to my newest one (which was still white and clean, thank goodness.)
To the left was where I put up my hammock, which was light blue and would rock back and forth silently. It was probably the best thing in my office. I have a habit of staying over for the night and falling asleep. It would piss the Hell out of Clown.
Manson used to tease me about how humble my office was compared to his, which was full of all types of things that would make a therapist schedule his appointment with another therapist. He even had a red stained glass window, with Manson displaying his iridescent insect wings, grinning while on a podium, and his fans worshipping him like a god. I could see the window from my hammock since I somehow made the door come off its hinges. Manson pissed me off when he brought up my background and made fun of the poor. I still remember what he said:
Manson loomed over me and hissed, "You think I don't know where you came from? You were poor. And you should've stayed that way. They were your people anyway!"
"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SAY THAT TO ME!" I screamed.
"What are you gonna do? Whine to Clown about it?" Manson teased.
Manson's door shook violently.
I looked him in the eye and said. "I'm warning you, Manson. You say another word about my background and I'll make this door fly right off its hinges."
Manson's office was something I never told anyone about, not even Joho. But everyone in the meetings knew about Manson's office. Who wouldn't? Manson's office was literally right across mine.
I hated it. His office always brought back the worst memories.
Manson's voice was soft yet cold. "Hey, Corey, how did you move that hose all by yourself? Must've been hard. Especially since you never used your hands to turn on the faucet. When was the last time you carried a hose?"
"Shut the FUCK up!" I yelled. Manson's window broke. The glass looked like sugar that was dyed in different colors.
"YOU BITCH!" Manson screamed.
One of his portraits immediately lit on fire. It fell, leaving glass and flames all over his crimson carpet.
"Do that one more time and I'll burn this place to the fucking ground!" Manson threatened.
"I'd like to see you try asshole! You always say shit like that but then you don't do anything!"
"Shut up," Manson said, his voice shaky and nearly a whisper. A small cat statue caught on fire and slipped off the shelf. It shattered.
"Make me," I said.
"I'll cut you." Manson threatened smoothly. His eyes flashed with rage.
Manson's desk creaked loudly as it lifted itself sideways, blocking the doorway.
Manson glared.
"You bitch! Why was I so unfortunate?"
If Manson being alive wasn't bad enough, then his office certainly was. The grinning Manson on the stained glass window somehow seemed to be grinning at me. It was as if -
"Corey!" It was Clown.
I held on to the hammock, nearly falling. "Jesus fuck Shawn, don't scare me like that!" I yelled, sighing.
"How long have you been staring at that creepy ass stained glass?" Clown asked.
"I didn't know you were here," I said, regaining my balance and slowly getting up from my hammock.
"I'm only here because I don't know how to handle people crying." Clown grumbled.
"What are you talking about-"
Clown turned around and yelled Mick's name. Mick came in, with Agostino next to him. They were sobbing, their cheeks red and their eyes puffy.
"What happened?" I asked, approaching Agostino.
"I don't know. I just came in and he's in the tour bus with us. Jim tried asking what was going on. But he just started crying." Mick explained.
"Is it okay if I talk to him?" I asked.
"Yeah, that's why I brought him here," Clown said impatiently.
"Okay, I get that you're upset. But don't be an ass." I whispered hotly.
"I see what this is, you're trying to flirt with Tino," Clown whispered playfully.
I smacked him lightly. "Shut up!"
"Whatever you say Goldilocks," Clown said with a laugh, before walking away with Mick.
The door closed behind me.
I was alone with Agostino.
"What seems to be the problem, Joho?" I asked.
Agostino sobbed. "I'm so tired of this shit Corey."
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"Them - Corey. I'm so tired of what they're doing."
"Who's them Joho?"
Agostino wiped away their tears gingerly. "The Mansonites Corey. I hate them so much."
"What did they do?" I asked.
"They keep blaming me for Manson's death."
"What? Why?"
"I didn't do shit! Why do they think I killed him?"
I let them go on for the next fifteen minutes until they said, "I'm done."
"If it makes you feel better, they're blaming me for his death too," I said.
"They are?" Agostino asked, wiping away their tears.
"Yeah. They started blaming me a year after Manson died. Started saying things about me shooting Manson, me stabbing him, hitting him with a baseball bat, you know, stuff like that."
Agostino looked terrified.
"My point is- you're not alone in this. I know exactly what you're going through."
"No shit. Looks like you have it a lot worse than me," Agostino said, chuckling.
"It's better than Manson being alive though."
"I guess you're right," Agostino agreed.
From Agostino's novel "I Lived With The Devil: Discoveries"
I find it amazing that after all we've been through because of Manson, Corey still remained strong. Felt bad for the guy. He's been through Manson's shit way longer than I have and he hated him for it.
Corey is unfortunately a very likely target for the conspiracies that have been floating around Manson's death. I've seen forums that claimed Corey used a bunch of rocks and glass to kill Manson, then he got rid of the evidence. There was no explanation of how exactly Corey was able to do this.
Yet the sixteen Mansonites who created said forum also claimed they were massive fans of Manson's music and how they'd listen to Manson speak on his podium. Even going as far as using his real name as if they knew the guy "Brian never lies. Why would he lie? He's such a good person! The only liar and killer is Corey Taylor!"
Corey
"Joho, I should've told you this when I had the chance," I said.
Agostino and I were talking in my office for half an hour now. I started to notice that Agostino really liked to be around me, even when Manson was alive.
"What is it?" Agostino asked.
"You can't tell anyone that I'm telekinetic. I know you like to tell your friends everything, but please keep this a secret Joho," I said. I couldn't risk it. If anyone found out, chances are I'll be dead.
Agostino was silent for a moment. Then they said, "I won't tell anyone."
"Promise?" I asked.
"Promise," Agostino said. "Also, Corey, since we trust each other now, we can't keep hiding things from each other."
"I don't know what you're talking -"
"Why didn't you tell me you were telekinetic when Manson was alive?" Agostino asked.
I need to be careful with this one. Joho's quick to anger if I don't respond quickly. "Because I was scared what Manson would do if he found out."
"Looks like he already knew anyway," Agostino said quietly.
"Wait, how do you -"
"Clown told me everything before the funeral," Agostino responded.
"Ohhh. Wait, he told you all that?"
"Yeah, which is odd coming from Clown, but that's beside the point." Agostino went on, "And I should've told you about Manson sooner."
They still feel guilty about Manson.
Agostino didn't tell me about Manson. It wasn't until they came to the meeting that I realized that Agostino and Manson were together.
"Ah, don't feel bad about that Joho. He was a controlling asshole anyway. He would've lost it if you ever told me. But to be fair, if I was dating Manson, I would've told someone right away too," I said.
"Yeah. But you know what this means, Corey."
"No more secrets," I said. I did the horn.
"No more secrets," Agostino repeated, also making the horn.
We shook on it.