//------------------------------// // Cult Classic. // Story: Am I Evil // by Mandroid //------------------------------// “Pffftahahahhaa!” ”Stop laughing!” Eris says, stopping her paint dipped finger. “It tickles!” ”How can we make love if you’re this ticklish!” “You don’t make love with my stomach!” ” Are you two done?” you hear Chrysalis say. The two of you turn your heads and catch her standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. “Yeah, almost.” You look down. “I didn’t know you wore a push-up bra.” Chrysalis had INSISTED that it was important that you all not wear shirts for this little ritual. ”You’ve taken my bra off before.” “Yeah but I wasn’t lookin’ at it…” ” Aaaand done.” Eris says. “Thanks for distracting him.” You look down and see the symbol of Tirek on your stomach. “Sweet.” ”Come along, let’s get this going.” You follow Chrysalis out of the closet onto the common area of the tour bus where Artemis and Sombra wait with their own symbols drawn on their stomachs and arms and heads. Chrysalis claps her hands. “Okay! Does everyone have their paint and bras taken care of?” You elbow Eris playfully. ”Can’t believe you made me put one on…” she says. ”We can’t have the boys being distracted, hon. Now come.” Chysalis waves her hand and a magic circle appears in a flash of green fire. ”Everyone please take their seats and we can begin.” You and the others take your seats, you grab a pad of paper and pen in front of you and bow your head. Chrysalis puts her fingers to her thumbs and her eyes alight with green flame. The circle between you all glows. ” Mighty Tirek.” She begins. ”We, your chosen, call upon you. In our rampaging temple in your name, we seek you. We invite your flame into us to be our furnace, our spark, our passion.” Artemis puts some things into the circle. A rubbing of a cavern you found Tirek’s carvings in, some picks, an 8-track you’d recorded some solos on. ”Let your power, fury, wisdom, and grace guide us as we seek to make the perfect song. We seek a harmonization of raw power, majesty, and metal to bring this world into a golden age of music. In your name, we ask this.” The fire circle changes to red and you feel thoughts burning into your brain. You grab the notepad and start writing. All this was to work on The Masterpiece. Hours were spent in the recording studio in between tour legs trying to refine it into the perfect piece of heavy metal, but you’re run up against a snag. All of you had run out of material and it wasn’t done yet. Some bands might just say they were just not creative enough but you all knew the truth. You’d just reached the limits of how hardcore mortals could be. So like any reasonable person, you turned to the occult. Chrysalis chants lyrics backwards and a half octave deeper than normal while you write. You could feel the heat in your arm, flowing from your shoulder and down to your wrist as it dogged and dipped onto the paper, crafting and refining the heaviest riffs straight from Tirek’s brain. To call it exhilarating would be an understatement. Time passes; how much you cannot say. You feel your bandmates next to you. Not just hearing them write or feeling their body heat, but like your minds were linked. At that moment, you weren’t five people writing instruments, you were one band writing one amazing song. Eventually you all open your eyes, the candles in the spellcircle going down to numbs and the sun having shifted in the sky outside. Sombra opens his eyes wide for a second. “Whoa…shit…did I just get laid?” He rubs the back of his neck and winces. Eris snaps up a geisha fan and cools herself. “That’s one way to put it Somby…wow…” You lean back. “I need an energy drink…and to unwind, shit…” Chrysalis picks up all your papers and flips through them, taking her glasses out. “Hrrrmmm…” ”I don’t like that sound one bit…" Arty says. Chrysalis looks up at him and meets his eyes. “It’s…pretty good.” The four of you groan. “COME ON, CHRYS.” ”I just think it can be refined more!” she answers. ”We’ve been refining for two years!” ”We can refine a bit more! You can’t rush perfection!” ”That’s why I was a week-long labor.” Eris says. Three knocks come from the tour bus door. “What now…” You get up and walk over to the door, opening it to two stone-faced men in suits outside with briefcases. “…Hhhhheeeeeey guys.” ”Anonymous.” You look back in and make your “Who the fuck are these guys?” face. Artemis sighs. “The lawyers…” The two open their briefcases in unison and retrieve papers. ”We’ve come to you in regards to a recent development.” ”It’s come to our attention that there is a minor band in Fillydelphia performing covers of your songs to sold out bars and crowds.” ”As such they are in breach of the exclusivity contract between yourselves and RichCo’s marketing division.” “We’ve taken the liberty of drafting up Cease and Desist letters which, with your authorization, we will send out to sto-“ You flick your wrist and slam the door shut. “So I’m thinking a surprise show down at the pub to unwind tonight, you guys?” ”Yeah I could go for that.” Chrysalis nods. ”Lemme call Huey…”Artemis says. A few hours later, the five of you are on a small stage at Mick’s Pub down the street. Just like old times. Chrysalis grabs the mic. “This is a song about what we did all fucking day.” Music The benefit of knowing how to play guitar was that it was a scale instrument, and so was the keyboard. You let your guitar hang in front of you as you switch over to the “pipe organ” setting on the device and play some notes. Eris plucks along on her heavily distorted bass. Behind the stage, Huey was able to fit the fog machine from the tour bus. Artificial smoke bellows out from behind the stage and sticks to the ground with its weight as Chrysalis raises her arms to the sky. You do a simple chord progression and fuck with some effects on the instrument. Lights from above refocus and move about before they center on Chrysalis and all goes silent. Clenching her fist and pumping it down, she delivers an earth shaking first note, which you and Arty mirror on downtuned guitars. You and Aretmis bob and bounce around as Chrysalis walks through the tables with her mic, serenading the patrons with a history lesson. Two verses in, you begin one of the most complicated solos of your career. Good to know the power of Tirek hadn’t left just yet.