“That was Underworld Guardians” the announcer echoed through the microphone
The audience splattered out a small applause. Sam and his buddies who made up the metal band quickly fled the stage. He knew they’d screwed up, the drums were out of pace with the rest of the band and Sam knew his own voice wasn’t at its best.
It was the nerves of performing in public for the first time ever, also the added weight of the first performance taking place during a Battle of the Bands.
“We suck” Craig the drummer sighed loudly
“Let it go” Sam muttered “We tried”
The four boys in near matching black clothes all looked crestfallen, all knowing they weren’t going to get the big break they’d dreamed of today.
Then a tall slender man in a black pin strip suit approached. He smiled with an unnervingly inviting grin. The man waved and his dark eyes flashed with a friendly light.
“Hello boys” the man greeted “I very much enjoyed your performance”
The band shared a look and then with a lot of doubt in the man’s words thanked him.
“Really, we thought we were terrible” Sam replied
The man waved away his concern “No, a little rough yes, but terrible no”
He then flicked a black business card seemingly out of nowhere from between his fingers. He offered it to Sam.
The singer took the card and scanned it.
Mr. H. Styx
Founder, CEO, CFO, COO, Agent, Receptionist, Janitor…
The job titles actually continued for two lines and then seemed to continue off the card.
“One man operation I take it” Sam asked
Mr. Styx chuckled “I have had to down size yes”
The man’s eyes flashed with a burning light, Sam decided not to ask any questions about that.
Craig who was looking over Sam’s shoulder added “You got a great name for a rock music agent”
Mr. Styx laughed in an oozing chuckle “It’s a little on the nose I must admit”
He then clapped his long skeletal hands together.
“I’ll get right too it, I want…” He paused, mentally correcting himself “No, I need, a desperate need to sign you boys”
“You’re joking” Olly the bass player asked
Mr. Styx shook his greasy head of black hair.
“I’m DEAD serious” he said and he chuckled like he’d made a joke “It won’t cost you a thing, if anything all you’d have to do is look pretty and play great music”
Look pretty and great music were not phrases that the Underworld Guardians had heard used to describe them.
Like most people desperate for a shot at fame and fortune, the four young men didn’t think about it and they all in unison agreed with a somewhat dismissive ‘sure’.
Mr. Styx’s smile widened, large tombstone like teeth appeared between his thin lips.
Suddenly he held a bundle of papers, it was a contract.
He slapped the papers onto a table and offered Sam a glittering silver pen.
“Just sign on the dotted line” Mr. Styx oozed
Sam took the pen and quickly wrote his name, the pen’s ink was a deep red and flowed unlike ink should. The others followed his lead.
“Excellent boys” Mr. Styx smirked cramming the contract into his black suit jacket “Now, I’m gonna have some words with the band organiser, fighting for you already”
Mr. Styx vanished into the dark of the backstage area.
“That was weird” Sam said “We didn’t even read the contract”
Craig shrugged “It’s not like we sold our souls or anything”
The bands laughed and Sam slipped away to use the bathroom before their new agent, manager and thanks to them not reading the contract probably legal guardian and attorney Mr. Styx returned.
As he walked through the ill maintained toilets the tiles beneath his feet seemed to enhance the thuds of his footsteps. Like he was thudding hulking boots onto the floor and not the small sneakers Sam thought he was wearing.
Sam was muttering a tune to himself as he took a spot at the urinal, reworking the tune as he repeated it over and over.
He didn’t even notice the guy at the urinal next to him look down and gasp at Sam’s meat as the singer heaved it out of his pants.
The guy actually fled, but Sam didn’t noticed. He finished up quickly and redid his black pants.
His hands felt more hefty and heavy than normal. Thicker feeling fingers reworking his junk into a comfortable position.
Sam smirked at the bulge ‘The Leviathan’ made in his pants. Sam felt the world shake a little as he patted his bulge. Like a glitch, like something has changed.
But Sam was too busy smiling down at the name shake for the bands Number One song Leviathan, not that many people knew that the bands debut single was named after Sam’s insatiable horsecock.
Sam stepped up to the sink and washed his oversized hands. They looked off to him, but then he remembered his meaty digits overflowing the mic as he boomed out his bands latest song.
He wiped his hands on his black shirt, it flowed beneath his fingers as if his torso was moving under the fabric, reshaping itself into something more fitting for the image Sam and his band wishes they had. An image that the boys now had thanks to Mr. Styx.
Sam rooted through his bag, trying to find his phone. He pushed passed the signed copies of the bands album. The album the band hadn’t even recorded yet, which had somehow appeared in the bag that he didn’t even quite remember walking in with.
He found his phone, he pulled it out, ignoring the black leather sleeveless jacket that he now remembered was his signature look.
Sam always performed with his heavily tattooed arms on show, and with his abs glistening under a spot light. Or at least he now remembered that he had always perform like that.
Sam popped on his headphones and flicked on his latest song, he was mentally critiquing it while he snapped a few selfies in the dirty bathroom mirror.
He puffed out his chest, making sure his pecs strained the shirt. His meaty fingers clicked out a few more photos.
Sam picked out the best one and posted it to his Instagram. Nearly 5 million people’s phones buzzed as he posted, their hungry eyes eating up his muscled arms and artistic ink.
Sam stomped out of the bathroom, his styled hair being pushed flat by the doorframe. His band was missing, but Mr. Styx was waiting for him.
“Sammy my boy” Mr. Styx slapped his hands together “There you are”
“Here I am” Sam answered
His voice boomed outwards in a window pane and knee shaking baritone.
Mr. Styx actually shuddered, like he was surprised by how deep Sam’s voice was. Even though Mr. Styx had been with the band for nearly 6 years and had made them a global sensation.
“Damn boy” Mr. Styx said in shock, then he corrected himself “The boys are on the bus, we got to get you on the plane”
Sam nodded, they’d hung around in their hometown for too long. Performing for the locals and judging the Battle of the Bands. It has been a nice trip down memory lane, but the Underworld Guardians had a sold out gig at London’s O2 arena, the start of their 3rd European tour.
Mr. Styx guided Sam to the band’s bus, the other boys were already waiting for them. They were just as big and beefy as Sam, all with different tattoos and hairstyles. Each of them had their own legions of fans, but Sam was the face of the band.
The bus started for the airport with the boys joking and swigging down a few beers. Mr. Styx just stood and watched with a pleased expression.
“You ok boss” Craig asked, almost breaking a beer bottle in his massive hands
“I’m very good” Mr. Styx said feeling the nearly forgotten feeling of worship flowing though his body
The millions of fans across the globe worshiped these boys, who in turn worshipped him, their manager and mentor.
“So you boys ready for your gig” Mr. Styx started his voice rising
“WE ARE” the band shouted, the buses windows shook
Mr. Styx could feel himself getting drunk on the admiration flowing into him.
“Are you not the biggest band in history” he asked his voice echoing with an eerie chant
“WE ARE” the band boomed again
The air grew cold inside the bus, Mr. Styx’s dark eyes glowed with a ghostly light.
“Who is the Lord of the Underworld and keeper of the DEAD” Mr. Styx asked again, the entire bus shaking
“YOU ARE” the band replied
Hades slapped his hands together and the road behind the bus fell into a gaping fissure.
“DAMN RIGHT” he smiled