Saturday, 11 March 2017

The Demon, The Host And the Vinyls

Chuck asked us to create a monster... so I did. Music is an amazing thing - or is it? I've used the main place of Liverpool, UK as my base of the storyline. I must apologise in advance for getting anything wrong. It's been 20 years since my last visit to both London and Liverpool. 


It was all over the papers today.

The rock concert massacre nobody saw coming. I read the headlines in three different papers. And they all said the same thing: ‘The concert hall was packed as the band began to play their first song. By halfway through the concert, something started to go terribly wrong. The music became a mantra, the lead singer transformed into another being and the drum beat turned the audience into zombies and locked the doors’.

I dreaded this very thing.

I knew who had taken over him, but had no way to get close.

Sitting at my breakfast table, I watched the sun rise over the city. I had to do something; and soon. Picking up the phone, I called one of the guys I used to play in a band with – hoping against hope he hadn’t attended that concert – and was relieved to hear his voice, “Robbie! So good to hear your voice, man!”
“Dude! Did you read the paper about the concert last night?” his gritty voice said, “I can’t believe it’s back!”
“We have to do something about this.”
“I’m good with the sound guys with the band. So, if you’re willing, we can put this crap back where it came from.” He suggested, “And have you got the same sounds we made way back when that worked last time?”
I turned and looked at the platinum vinyl framed up on the wall, “Sure do. But I think it’s going to take something more than that this time. He’s going to be expecting us.”
“I’ll be right over.”
As soon as I hung up, I pulled the platinum record off the wall and looked at it. We were going to do some serious work on this thing, but I had to have my coffee first.

Three hours passed and Robbie and I were downstairs in the recording studio with the platinum disk on the player. It had been years since either of us had played them – as he had brought along his to join the sounds together.
“I’ve asked a few of our wizard co-pats to help out, but they’ve all gone into hiding.” He sighed, “This thing is huge... bigger than it was in the 70’s.”
“Crap.” I groaned, “And we’re gettin’ too fuckin’ old for this shit.”
His faded blue eyes met mine, “I know. I vaguely remember Woodstock.”
Laughing I shook my head, “I don’t.” My smile fell off my face as fear replaced what we were up against, “Are we sure it’s the same thing? Or could it have brought along friends?”
“Fuck I hope not.” He leaned his elbows against his knees and looked down, “I really hope not.”

The dubbing went down well.
I don’t know where Robbie got his hands on a blank gold album, but he did. And we recorded more work onto the dubbing of the two vinyls and more chanting and exorcisms – layering them underneath the chords – to hide them more before cutting it all onto the gold vinyl.
“I hope this works.” Robbie whispered as we finished it up and slid it into a box of its own.
“So do I.” I said, “When’s the next concert?”
He pulled up the site of events around London, then around the UK, “Um... Liverpool.”

The city hadn’t changed that much in the last twenty years. It was an industrial city to start with and the council had worked hard to get Liverpool to look like a pretty nice place to be.
Robbie and I climbed off the train and made our way towards Cissy’s place. She was another band member from way back in the 70’s we used to hang with – and the only witch who hadn’t gone into hiding. She wanted in on our game to close down the massacres surrounding this band that it seemed nobody could stop.
“Welcome to my home.” She smiled, “I’m so glad you guys could make it.” She hugged us both and let us into her little cottage, “I was nervous you had been caught on the way by the band members.”
“Nope... they flew, we trained it.” I said.
“No, they trained it too... on the same one you were on.” She said.
“What?” Robbie and I both turned, looking at her.
“I did a location spell and watched the map, you were all two carriages from each other and didn’t even know it.” She said.
My mate – the old bass guitarist from my band – turned pale, “Dude, we have to work fast... we have to get to the hall now!”
“It’s at the University of Liverpool... at the main hall.” Cissy said, “And if you want in, one of you will have to know a roadie to get your butts anywhere near it.”
“Don’t worry about that.” Robbie smiled, “If we can’t get inside it, we can do one better.”
I turned to him, “How?”
He looked at Cissy, “Do you still have that platinum vinyl we all cut when this happened last time?”
“Of course I do. Why?”
“We need your larger turntable. I’ll explain on the way.”

We didn’t need to say much to get into the university hall. Us three looked like older students who had made the wrong turn somewhere on campus and ended up in the main hall at the university where the band was setting up.
Robbie acted like the sound engineer – as he always did, even though he was the bass player – and ordered people around. They jumped when he told them to and he took over the sound area of the whole concert hall. But we had one problem: we couldn’t try out the two vinyls without somebody getting suspicious of what we were doing.
We needed the concert to be in full swing for the exorcism to work as that was when the Demon was about to feed – when it was at its weakest and most vulnerable.  
And now, all we needed to do was wait.

The concert hall filled to capacity.

The turnout was amazing.

There was a quick sound-check – which Robbie did with another guy – and the band started playing straight away.

The place jump. It thrummed. It pounded with the sound of the drums and people singing and chanting... and this was when we realised one thing: this is how the demon came about in the lead singer. 

He was the host for it, and had to be called forward.

We waited until the Demon had taken him over.

We waited until the singer had begun to feed on the mosh pit.

With shaking hands, I turned off the sound... the lights... everything and Cissy dropped both needles at the same time on the gold vinyls; blasting the Gaia Melody Song through over a dozen speakers.
We broke the spell the Demon had over the public in three of the longest minutes of our lives.
The Demon was exorcised in a huge, fiery explosion, which killed the lead singer – and his host – in a massive bloody mess.

We saved so many people that night.

We hid the vinyls in a safe place and made a vow to never speak of this night ever again to each other.

But we had one problem: Cissy, Robbie and I have never been the same since that night. None of us can sleep anymore because the Demon’s screams from Hell invades our dreams every night.

It’s been three years since that night. Cissy was found dead at her house. She couldn’t stand the screaming in her head. Robbie and I have put ourselves into the right places to be helped... but I haven’t seen Robbie today, doc... is he okay? Oh, my god. No. Not you. You were exorcised by Cissy, Robbie and me!

I’m not telling you where those vinyls are...

... tell me where Robbie is.

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