Drowning in a flood of immeasurable terror James could only struggle fruitlessly against the overpowering weight and strength of Rose. He found no solace in the blank eye holes of the smiling mask, but could not for the life of him look away; as if mesmerized by the strange mask and the comforting stroking upon his head. He sees Rose's free hand, holding a similar mask, nay, identical.<br/>"You don't wanna kill the last musician in his hell hole, do ya?" James asks, and immediately wonders why he used such an argument. He can still feel the warm wood on the neck of his guitar; still clutched in his hand. He thinks about using it again as a weapon, but dismisses that notion when he finds that he hasn't the strength in his wrist to swing the instrument....