This week, we have another incredible prompt from FWG's own Caralyn Young. This one is truly scary, but what lies hidden inside is even more so...
The Devil's Cathedral
When the world-famous band, Satan’s Nephew, bought the crumbling church, Rolling Stone dubbed it a colossal publicity stunt. But five years and a streaming reality show later, The Devil’s Cathedral, with its holographic demon towering above, opened for business. I ran the backstage for every band that came through, and they all came through. It was the hottest venue on the planet and everybody who was anybody in the music industry wanted to play there.
It was their monthly open mic competitions that cemented the Cathedral’s reputation, though. An incredibly high percentage of the winners signed record deals and became overnight sensations. I knew the secret. I knew every sordid thing that happened backstage, and most of it I couldn’t care less about. Until Missy showed up. We had a thing some years before, and I still thought of her often. I also knew she couldn’t sing a lick, which is why she came to me.
I don’t know where she learned them, but she said the right words, so I took her down into the crypt. She was nervous and asked me to stay with her. Since we had—you know—back in the day, I stayed. Her “audition” was terrible, but then she made the band the offer they were really expecting. I won’t describe the ‘ceremony’, but one by one, they each took a piece of her soul, and each time she changed: her looks, her attitude, but most importantly, her voice. By the time she was finally called to the stage, I wouldn’t have recognized her.
Of course, she blew the crowd away, and had a record deal almost before she left the stage. When she offered me the tour manager job, I hesitated, but then I remembered it would only be for a year.