Extended History:
Johnny ain’t said much about his backstory to anyone who asks, beyond that it had been soul crushingly average. Born to decent parents, grew up in a decent town in Montana with nothing much to his name beyond his charm and his good looks. His daddy had moved out west in search of gold like so many men of his time. His momma tended their small home and raised Johnny mostly on her own while his daddy was out sifting the rivers and digging through the mines.
At the age of 12, Johnny was given a used fiddle by his daddy for his birthday. His daddy had purchased it from a drunk on his way home from the mines. At first Johnny had hated the gift, just another example of his daddy’s negligence. But he soon found he had a knack for the instrument and routinely entertained his momma with songs, always bringing a smile to her face. Johnny tried to play for his daddy, but the later always complained it was too loud as he was trying to relax.
Eventually the gold dried up and his daddy turned to the drink. And with the drink came a violence neither his momma nor Johnny had known existed. Physical punishment became a familiar specter in their home, eventually leading to the death of Johnny’s momma, a few weeks after he turned 16. After that, Johnny ran away, funding solace in a rundown tavern on the Montana/Wyoming border. There he fell in with a group of musicians turned cowboys, traveling across the uncharted territory of the West. He became famous across the area, although never as much as he wanted. People would come from miles to hear him play, but Johnny still felt underappreciated, always seeing the illusion that his fans were judging him, laughing at him. No matter how big he got, they’d never care that he was just a good for nothing nobody with an abusive daddy and a dead momma.
Over time he began to hear rumors from other musicians he drank with about musicians suddenly becoming talented and famous overnight. They’d walk into town one day a talentless nobody and leave as the talk of the town, the townspeople unable to tell you how it had happened. Everyone at the table agreed that there had to be a darker cause for these spontaneous successes. It was the West after all, and the supernatural forces and creatures did not follow the same rules as those in the east. It was said that these musicians had found a way to summon the devil himself and offered up their immortal soul for a taste of fame and fortune. The musicians would proceed to joke loudly about what would be worth more than their tainted old souls. Johnny always laughed along with them, but internally, a rage built up in him. He was the best fiddle player in the West because he worked for it. And these good for nothing assholes were going around stealing his thunder by cheatin. Johnny made a plan to prove to both the Devil and the rest of the world that he was the best musician on the goddamn earth, and no dark power could make anyone better than him.
The night Johnny enacted his plan was hot and humid, the air itself seeming to try and hold him back as he walked out of the small mining town he was staying in and towards a crossroads outside of town. Bugs buzzed and bit at him as the clouds grew darker and darker as the night wore on, threatening a torrential storm. Johnny wondered absentmindedly if this was an act of God, trying to prevent him from reaching his destination and the creature he sought to beat.
As Johnny entered the middle of the crossroads, he removed the small black box from the crook of his neck and opened it, slowly examining it’s contents. A white cat’s paw, the open flesh still slick with blood, the afterbirth of a female dog, and the skeleton of a rattlesnake that died with a half-digested mouse in its guts sat. All the items sat evenly placed in the box, resting gently on the dark maroon cushion lining. Setting the box on the ground, Johnny removed a large hunting knife from his belt and, after a brief moment of hesitation, slid the blade across his forearm. A bright gush of crimson blood flowed from the wound, splattering on the dirt street, which eagerly soaked up the delicious ichor. Johnny squeezed the wound until only a small trickle of blood oozed out, and moved his arm over the box. The blood dripped softly onto the three objects in turn, a soft sizzling sound emitting at the moment of impact. After closing and locking the descreated box, Johnny wrapped the wound in bandages in his pack, but soon realized the blood continued to flow, regardless of how tight he bound his forearm. Tossing the bandages aside, Johnny picked up the shovel lying next to the box and began to dig.
After creating a large enough hole, Johnny picked the box backup and placed it gingerly in the hole. As the box touched the bottom of the hole, Johnny could swear he heard the faint sound of music far off in the distance, even though he was nearly two miles from town. There was something familiar about the music, but he could not place it. Johnny shrugged, ignoring the odd occurrence, and began filling the hole back up with loose dirt. The blood from his forearm now covered the shovel handle, his hands constantly slipping on the sticky, hot liquid. It took him over an hour to fill the small hole and Johnny had begun to feel faint as he lost more and more blood.
As the final pieces of soil were pressed into the ground, Johnny began to hear the music from before, much louder and closer this time. The melody was accompanied by the footsteps of a woman in heels on a hardwood floor, even though there was nothing but dirt for miles. Johnny turned around and was surprised to see a lone woman walking towards him. She wore a tight red dress with black stiletto heels and a large brimmed red hat. The music was coming from a beautiful golden fiddle she had under her chin. The bow slid back and forth across the shining strings, emitting a mesmerizing sound. Johnny finally recognized the tune. It was the song his mother had always asked him to play for her; a sad, yet somewhat happy tune of a fair maiden waiting and waiting for her love to return from a far away land. Tears sprang to Johnny’s eyes, shocking him even more than the mysterious woman and her outlandish garb. He hadn’t cried since his mother’s funeral and he refused to start again. He quickly wiped the tears away and called out to the woman.
“Sweetheart, I don’t know how you’ve found yourself in this god forsaken place, but you better get your sweet kester on out of here. I’m expecting some dangerous company and I don’t want no dame causing a ruckus.” As Johnny finished his sentence, the woman in red stopped playing and raised her head to meet his eye. Unable to stop himself, Johnny let out a soft scream as the woman’s terrifying face was revealed to him. Her skin was an even darker shade of red than her dress and appeared to have a coarse and leathery texture. Her ears, nose, and chin were comically pointed and elongated. As she gazed at Johnny’s shocked reaction with the bright yellow eyes of a cat, the woman in red shot him a dazzling smile full of pearly white fangs. “Dangerous company?” the woman said, her voice dripping with a mixture of honey and venom, “Now don’t you start flirting with me Johnathen Abernathy. You’re too smart to think sucking up to little ol’ me will get you a better deal.”
Johnny was unable to reply, struck dumb by the woman’s knowledge of his real name. He hadn’t used it since his mother died, vowing that he’d never use the last name of the man who killed her. During his silence, the woman in red continued to stare at him with a bemused look as the golden fiddle gleamed softly in the moonlight. After a few moments, Johnny asked “Are you… are you the Devil?” The woman let out a laugh that cracked through the air like dark thunder and echoed beyond the dirt crossroads, lingering for minutes as they continued their conversation. “You mortals… so naive. No sweetie, I ain’t THE Devil. Technically there isn’t one, although a lot of demons like to pretend they are. If those who take my deals choose to forget my name and call me the Devil, well, that’s on them. But you, my handsome companion for this evening, my call me Beleth.”
“So… it’s true then. Those musicians really did bargain their souls for fame…” Johnny said, his rage and annoyance at this confirmation bringing him out of his stupor. Beleth laughed again at Johnny’s tone and simply shrugged at his accusation. She eyed him up and down and continued to display her dazzling and terrifying smile. Johnny’s anger grew and grew. How dare this demon, a woman no less, laugh at him, the best fucking fiddle player in the West. He reached behind his back and removed the fiddle case strapped to him. Unlocking the case, Johnny removed the busted wooden fiddle and placed it under his chin, testing the bow against the strings. “I’m sick of you helping those good for nothing hacks. Talent isn't something you can just hand out, especially since I doubt you got any yourself sweetheart. So I think it’s high time you got taken down a peg.”
For the first time, a look of surprise crossed Beleth’s face. “Ah, so you really did summon me for a petty test… I’d hoped you were smarter than that, but alas, it appears I was wrong.” The eerie smile returned to her face, mirroring Johnny by raising the fiddle back to her chin. “It’s been a few centuries since someone has been cocky enough to challenge the Grand Maestro of Hell. And the last who dared is currently residing in a beautiful box seat in my realm of torment. Do you truly think you will fare better?” And without allowing Johnny to respond, Beleth drew the bow across the strings of her fiddle. As soon as the bow connected, a loud, insidious hiss rang out across the land, nearly causing Johnny to drop his fiddle and cover his ears in pain. With the sound came with the memory of every time his daddy had hit him, hit his mamma, and the unbearable pain and loss he’d felt during her funeral. The sound seemed to worm its way into his soul and tear out every horrible memory he’d experienced and shove it right back in his face.
A few moments after the hiss had completed its echo across the area, Beleth began to play. As the music reached Johnny he felt a hot gust of wind hit his face, causing him to flush and perspire even more. It felt as if he were standing in a large burning fire, the smoky hot air filling his lungs, making him cough and sputter. Reality began to shift and Johnny found himself no longer on the dirt street, but in a dark, black cave. As the music continued to play, he felt compelled to walk forward, spying a bright flickering light up head that grew hotter and hotter as he approached. His skin began to blister and chaff, but Johnny began to feel an insane elahation at the pain running through his body. He looked down briefly to see that his skin had become a deep red and his nails had become long, sharp, and black. As Johnny arrived at the light, he gazed out beyond it and screamed at the terrible visage in front of him.
The cave had given way to a cavern that stretched beyond the horizon, its ceiling as high as the sky above ground. Below were thousands of humans bound in black steel chains around their neck, hands, and feet. In between them were humanoid figures that resembled the creator of the music that was still playing loudly through Johnny’s head. They danced and laughed maniacally while the chained humans cried and screamed as the red creatures tortured them. Some were burned alive, some were dismembered one limb at a time, others had their skin slowly and meticulously torn from their flesh, and further horrors Johnny could not even comprehend. Johnny expected to feel revolted at the sights below, but he felt a laugh begin to bubble in his chest. He recognized the humans now, though he had never seen their faces. They were the musicians who had taken Beleth’s deal and were being tortured for it. He laughed and laughed as the humans below screamed and begged their captors for release. “Serves you fuckers right!” he called down to the pitiful wretches, “Suffer you mediocre wannabees!!!” The music began to whisper to him, telling him to go down and enjoy himself. You’ve earned it… You’re better than all of them combined… why shouldn’t you get to punish them?.... Completely lost in the madness of this fantasy, Johnny lept from the cave and began to fall faster and faster. A brief moment of clarity caused fear to grow in his heart, knowing that he would die when he hit the ground. But the madness was too great and he let out a final laugh as his body collided with the hot black stone floor.
To be continued
