The Silenced Drummer

Chapter 15: The Letter

"Lads! Ay, anyone awake in there?!"

The loud voice, along with the persistent knocking, made the four musicians all wake up in an instant.

Ringo's eyes went wide, immediately recognizing who the voice belonged to. 

He pulled away from George's chest, looking over at the room's door, which was locked.

"Ugh... Eppy, what is it?" John asked in a groggy voice, raising up from his bed as Paul made his way to stand on the carpeted floor.

"Listen... I know it's early, b-but... Um... M-Mal and Neil wanted me to give this... L-letter to you... And..."

Before Brian could continue, Paul opened the door.

The bassist took a step back, being taken by surprise by Brian's appearance. 

He was sweating, face white as a sheet as his right hand shakily held an opened envelope. Upon seeing what Brian held, Paul had a feeling as to why he looked so scared.

"Y-you can come in... If you want..."

Paul steeped to the side, allowing the manager to make his way into the room. John walked up to him, worried.

"Brian? Is everythin' alright?"

Ringo sat on the edge of the bed, wanting to know what Brain wanted to show them, but, at the same time, terrified as to what was going to happen.

George sat up, briefly focusing his gaze on the clock.

6:30

The sun was still rising outside, judging by the lack of sunlight coming in through the window.

If Brian had woken them up this early, then George knew that it had to be for something serious. 

"H-here John... I... D-don't want t-to read it..." Brian said, giving the envelope to the guitarist.

Looking curiously down at the envelope, John reached inside and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Tossing the envelope to the floor, he quickly unfolded it, only to see writing on it.

"The envelope d-din't have a return address..." Brian added.

Reading through the message that was on the paper, John's eyes went wide.

"W-what does it say?" George asked apprehensively.

John looked at him for a moment.

"Well..." He said, clearing the shakiness out of his throat, " I can see why Brian would want us to see this..."

Paul walked up beside him, but John shielded the writing from his gaze.

"I'll r-read it..." John stated, uncharacteristically trembling.

Ringo kept his gaze on the guitarist as he began to read.

"Dear Beatles, my name is Harold Refay. I know, just as the rest of the world does, that one of your members has lost h-his voice after someone tried to shoot him during a concert two days ago..."

John looked around the room before continuing.

"It is w-with great pleasure that I shall say t-that... That I was the o-one who tried to k-kill Ringo."

Ringo took in a sharp breath.

"Now, you might think that it is quite foolish of me to write to you. However, I have taken extreme precautions to hide myself from the public. After all, I attended that announcement without issue, and I m-must say that I e-enjoyed Ringo's reaction through it all..."

George clenched his fists on the sheet below him.

"And... While I was walking through a park yesterday, I c-came across two of your m-members... J-John... A-and Paul... Kissing o-of all things..."

Paul sat on the edge of his bed, staring fearfully at John as he continued.

"I wasn't surprised. I a-always figured that you four were a b-bunch of queers anyway..."

John took a deep breath, knowing what the last part of the letter said.

"Now, though I am proud of myself for what I did, I did not accomplish what I had set out t-to do... Your little drummer should watch his back, b-because I am going t-to hunt him down and finish t-the job..."

Ringo's face was white as snow.

"And, if any of you c-come between me and him, o-or are simply a-at the wrong p-place at the wrong time, then there should be a-at least two deaths b-being reported in the news..."

John took a moment to breath, trying to calm down.

"I know that you will try to get me apprehended, and good luck, because you're going t-to need it."

Brian looked down at the floor.

"I'm looking f-forward to the d-day that I finally bring your little insignificant band to its knees."

John focused his gaze on each of his friends. 

Brian was still focusing on the floor, hands behind his back.

Paul was shaking, staring at him in return.

George's eyes were wide with both anger and fear.

Ringo was pale and shaking, eyes darting around the room in paranoia.

John sighed as he read the last line, knowing that they were now being hunted.

"S-sincerely, Harold Refay."