Abbey Road Wallpaper

The Beatles had everything they needed to defeat the Beast of Bodmin Moor. True, they had no idea how they were going to do that exactly, but they weren't worried. They had a Sword of Truth, a Jar of Green Marmite Yeast Extract, a Titanium Pound Coin, a Jeweled Crown, an Orb of Protection and Benevolence, and their heartrending music. And most importantly, they had each other.
"Should we just wait for the Beast to come and find us?" George wondered. The Beatles were still sitting in the abandoned police station, this time with the Orb on the floor between them, casting its beautiful shield all...

Ringo's eyes slowly fluttered open. He could see green leaves above him, but mostly he could see his mates' concerned faces.
"Ringo?" John asked softly, with more concern in his tone than he probably wanted to show. He reached out a hand to help Ringo stand.
With John's help, Ringo got to his feet. He swayed a bit, but found his balance quickly. "I'm all right," he assured them.
Paul's eyes were wide with relief. George was frowning quietly in the background, rubbing his shoulders where the Beast's paws had pinned him. Ringo smiled at them all. He really did feel better with only one object on...

Well, John thought to himself, hadn't Ringo and Paul, and now George, kept saying that they wanted to know more about the Beast? And John wouldn't mind knowing more himself, really. As long as he wasn't tired, why not do a little light reading and get to know their adversary?
The book turned out to be written in verse, several poems about mythical creatures. It was a thin volume and he turned easily to the page titled, "King Richard vs. the Beast of Bodmin Moor."

"Of all crusades Kind Richard faced,
The noblest by far,
To fight the Beast of Bodmin Moor,
And here his weapons are..."

And so it went;...

Ringo held the ruined crown in his hands, looking down at the tarnished metal. He could almost feel a sadness seeping into him from the object - along with a certain hopefulness. The Crown needed to be fixed, and Ringo was its last chance.
Ringo turned to his mates, who were watching him anxiously. "If this is the Jeweled Crown," he said, "then... it seems the Beast has taken the jewels out. It can't be a proper Jeweled Crown until we put them back."
"But we haven't got any jewels," Paul pointed out.
"And the Beast has probably taken the ones it had," added George.
"Besides," John said, "it's also...

The easiest way for the Beatles to get to the Bristol Museum and Art Gallery was to follow the policemen. Not wanting to be seen, the boys always waited until the policemen had turned a corner before venturing out after them. The policemen walked at a fast pace, but years of being chased by fans meant that the Beatles had no trouble keeping up.
The Museum, when they got to it, was in bad shape. The windows had been smashed in, and the walls were covered in what seemed to be deep scratch marks, making Ringo's legs tingle uncomfortably. Random scraps of things were littered outside, as though...

John set his jaw stubbornly. "I'm not going."
"What makes you think he's the one you should be arrestin'?" George demanded, wrinkling his nose as though he smelled something bad.
"You can't do that!" cried Paul. "We can't sit in jail; we've got to find Ringo and stop the Beast and..."
The policeman held up a hand to stop Paul, looking as though all this was just tiresome. "Tell it to the men at the station. We've all had quite enough of your stories about beasts taking over England!" He reached out and grabbed John by the arm. "I'm taking you in. And let's have that sword." He held out his other...

Ringo made his way alone through the darkened streets. Disobeying his own advice to the people of England, he wandered, up one street and down another. He wasn't sure exactly what he was looking for, but he wanted to find someplace that felt special, like that clifftop in Dover, like the places John and George had described. In the nighttime, all he could think about was finding a special object to call his own.
Ringo wasn't sure where he was exactly. He could tell that he had made it to a city, but had no way of knowing which city. Every now and then he passed someone on the street. Ringo didn't...

"Ringooo!"
John and George jumped to their feet, but Paul was quickest, reaching the edge of the cliff in an instant. Ringo's slender fingers clutched at the cliffside, doing all they could do to stop him from tumbling down. His terrified blue eyes found Paul's face, as he cried out in fear.
Paul reached down, scattering a handful of metal pieces he had been collecting, and tried to grab Ringo's hand, but that nearly upset Ringo's grip on the cliff. Ringo clutched at the rocks again, just barely managing to grab hold. His fingers were slipping. "Paul! Help!"
Paul reached forward again, determined...

The Beatles spent the rest of the night in the hospital's kitchen. They didn't get much sleeping done, though; they spent much of the time catching up with each other and explaining to the nurse - who told them her name was Katharine Reyes - what had been happening while George had been gone. John was very interested to hear about what it was like in the pantry, since it seemed just as supernatural as the tunnels he'd been in but a lot more comforting.
"They're just as bad in their own way," George pointed out. "It didn't seem important to get the Marmite Yeast when I was in there. I might've...

It was several moments before George trusted himself to speak. "Who's come in here?"
He didn't dare to be more specific, but the nurse understood. "Oh - no one that you or your mates know has come here. At least I don't think." She paused and looked at George sadly. "There really is something out there, that you know about, isn't there?"
George nodded. "You might want to stay inside for a while." He hoped the Beast didn't know how to get into buildings. "And lock the doors," he added as an afterthought. "Meanwhile..." His arm throbbed painfully again, and he supported it with his good arm. "Is...

The Beatles backed away from the crowd as it came closer, unsure of what it wanted. There was another street nearby, and they could turn onto that and hopefully lose this crowd. The boys backed into the street sign, turned around... only to see another group of people coming at them from down that street, too.
Acting on instinct, Paul pulled Ringo away, into the only clear place - the middle of the road. That was a safe enough place right now since no one was out driving cars, and Paul found himself thinking irrelevantly that this might make a good song title someday. John and George followed...

Finding a TV studio was no problem when you were a Beatle. The boys had played in every good studio in town. When they got there, though, the door was swinging ominously on its hinges. The four lads exchanged glances. "Uh-oh..."
"The Beast has already been here," murmured George. He took a small step forward, not really sure if it would be better to continue on or turn around and find somewhere else. John put out a hand to stop George.
"Wait," he said. Slowly, bravely, John approached the door. He poked his head inside and looked round in all directions - as well as he could, considering everything...

"I don't suppose," said Ringo hopefully, "that now we've got the Sword of Truth, it can tell us the truth about where them other things are?"
John didn't know the answer, but he could feel the warm sword at his side, which almost seemed to be in tune with the Beatles' conversation, and he could almost feel it laughing at the suggestion. "No, don't think so," he supplied with a grin.
The Beatles were walking along the street, talking amongst themselves about where the other objects were likely to be. The streets around here seemed to be quite empty, so much so that no one noticed that John was...