The final chord rang out through The Devil's Lullaby, reverberating off the walls like the last echo of a dying heartbeat. Ren held the note on his guitar, letting it linger in the smoky air as the crowd erupted into a frenzy. Bodies pressed against the stage, fists pumping, voices shouting, and the energy in the room surged to a fever pitch. The noise was deafening, the kind of sound that made you feel alive, like the whole world was caught up in that single, glorious moment.
Ren grinned, sweat glistening on his forehead, his blue hair with its signature pink streaks plastered against his skin. He let the guitar slip from his hands, catching it by the neck as he stepped back from the mic, the crowd's cheers washing over him like a tidal wave. Jason, Sam, Amy, and Danny were all beaming, basking in the adulation, their instruments still humming with the aftermath of their performance.
As the cheers continued, Ren jumped down from the stage, landing with a soft thud on the sticky floor. He slung his guitar over his back and made his way through the throng of people, who parted to let him pass, their eyes wide with admiration. He could hear bits and pieces of their praise—"That was fucking amazing!" "Ren, you killed it!"—but he had only one thing on his mind as he moved through the crowd.
The girl, Delylah, was still standing where he'd left her, a little more at ease now that the focus had shifted away from her and onto the band. Her green hair glowed faintly under the neon lights, and her eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and disbelief. She looked up as Ren approached, a shy smile tugging at her lips.
"Did you enjoy the show?" Ren asked, his voice smooth and casual as he stopped in front of her.
Delylah's smile widened, and she nodded enthusiastically. "It was amazing! I've never seen anything like it. You guys were incredible."
Ren chuckled, running a hand through his damp hair. "Glad you liked it. We try our best to keep things interesting around here." He paused for a moment, his eyes studying her face as if searching for something deeper in her expression. "By the way, what's your name?"
"Delylah," she replied, her voice soft but clear.
"Delylah," Ren repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue like a melody. "Pretty name for a pretty girl."
She blushed, her cheeks turning a shade pinker than Ren's hair. Before she could say anything more, a loud shout from across the bar interrupted them.
"Hey, Ren! Get your ass over here!" Jason's voice boomed from one of the bar stalls, where the rest of the band had gathered. "We're celebrating, man! Shots on Fred!"
Ren glanced back at Delylah, offering her a hand. "Care to join us? It's not every night you get free whiskey at The Devil's Lullaby."
Delylah hesitated for a moment, then took his hand, letting him lead her through the bustling crowd. They reached the bar stall where Jason, Sam, Amy, and Danny were already seated, glasses of whiskey in front of them, toasting to a performance well done. Fred had set up a line of shots, the amber liquid gleaming under the dim lights.
"About time you got here," Sam said, smirking as Ren and Delylah slid into the booth. "We thought you got lost in the crowd."
Ren shrugged, picking up a shot glass. "Just making sure our guest of honor here had a good time."
Amy raised an eyebrow at Delylah, then turned her attention back to Ren with a sly grin. "You always did know how to make an impression, Ren."
Ren just winked, lifting his glass. "To us, and to never giving a fuck."
"To never giving a fuck!" the band echoed, clinking their glasses together before downing the whiskey in one go. The liquid burned as it went down, but it was a familiar burn, the kind that warmed you from the inside out and made the night seem just a little bit brighter.
As the group settled into the easy rhythm of post-show banter, a figure approached their table from the shadows. He was tall, dressed in a sleek black suit that looked out of place in the grungy atmosphere of The Devil's Lullaby. His hair was dark and neatly combed, and his sharp features gave him an air of importance, like someone who was used to getting what he wanted. He moved with a smooth confidence, his polished shoes barely making a sound on the sticky floor.
Ren noticed him first, his eyes narrowing slightly as the man stopped beside their booth. There was something off about this guy, something that didn't sit right with the usual crowd that frequented the bar. But before Ren could say anything, the man spoke, his voice calm and measured.
"Hell of a performance you put on tonight," he said, his gaze sweeping across the band. "I've seen a lot of acts in my time, but you've got something special."
The band members exchanged curious glances, not quite sure how to respond. Jason was the first to break the silence, his grin widening. "Thanks, man. We try to keep things interesting."
The man nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "You certainly do. My name is Clad Smith, and I'm a scouting agent for Into the Void Records. We're a small label, but we're expanding rapidly, and I think you guys have the potential to go far."
At the mention of a record label, the band's mood shifted from casual to excited. Sam's eyes lit up, and even Amy leaned forward, intrigued. Danny was practically vibrating with energy, unable to keep the grin off his face.
"Holy shit," Danny said, his voice hushed with awe. "A record deal? For real?"
Clad's smile widened, and he nodded. "For real. I've been scouting for talent across the city, and I've gotta say, you guys stood out. There's something raw and authentic about your sound, something that could really resonate with a wider audience."
The band members exchanged thrilled looks, their excitement palpable. This was the kind of opportunity they'd only dreamed about—a chance to take their music beyond the dingy bars and underground clubs, to actually make a name for themselves.
All of them, that is, except for Ren.
While the others were practically buzzing with excitement, Ren remained seated, his expression unreadable as he swirled the remnants of his whiskey in his glass. It wasn't that he wasn't interested—he was just… different. For Ren, it had never been about fame or fortune. Music was his life, his soul, and he didn't need a record label to validate that.
Clad noticed Ren's lack of enthusiasm and turned his attention to him. "You're the frontman, right? The voice that ties it all together?"
Ren looked up, meeting Clad's gaze with a calm, steady stare. "That's me."
Clad's smile didn't falter, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—curiosity, maybe even a hint of respect. "You don't seem as excited as your bandmates. Any reason?"
Ren shrugged, setting his glass down on the table. "I'm not against it. Just don't see the point in getting all worked up until something's actually on the table."
Clad nodded, as if he appreciated Ren's pragmatism. "Fair enough. How about this—I have an office at our label's headquarters. Why don't you and your band come by later tonight? We can discuss things further, and if everything looks good, we can talk about signing you on."
Jason, Danny, Sam, and Amy all nodded eagerly, the excitement back in full force. This was the break they'd been waiting for, and they were ready to grab it with both hands.
Ren, however, was still hesitant. But he knew better than to let his personal feelings hold the band back. This was their dream, after all, and he wasn't going to be the one to crush it.
He finally nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Alright, we'll be there."
Clad's smile returned in full, and he reached into his pocket, pulling out a sleek black card with the label's logo embossed in silver. He handed it to Ren, who took it without a word.
"Looking forward to it," Clad said, his voice smooth and confident. "See you at the headquarters."
With that, Clad turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd as quickly as he had appeared, leaving the band buzzing with anticipation and Ren with a lingering sense of unease.
As Clad disappeared into the crowd, the excitement at the table lingered, but there was an undercurrent of something else—an unease that gnawed at Ren, refusing to be drowned out by the whiskey or the cheers of the crowd. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
Amy noticed it first. She leaned in, her bright eyes narrowing with concern as she studied Ren's face. "What's wrong, Ren?" she asked, her voice low enough that only the band could hear.
Ren sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair, the pink streaks catching the light as he leaned back in his seat. "Sorry, guys. I just don't trust that guy."
Jason raised an eyebrow, his smirk fading as he saw the seriousness in Ren's expression. "What do you mean? Clad seemed legit."
"Is it because he's corporate?" Danny chimed in, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he took another swig of his drink. "You always were the anti-establishment type."
Ren shook his head, staring down at the black card Clad had given him. The silver logo gleamed ominously, like a promise he wasn't sure he wanted to keep. "No, it's not that. It's his demeanor... something about it didn't sit right with me. Maybe I'm just tripping, I don't know."
Sam, ever the voice of reason, leaned forward with a thoughtful expression. "I get where you're coming from, man. But think about it—this could be our big break. We've been busting our asses playing in dive bars for years, and now someone's finally noticed. Don't you think we should at least check it out?"
Amy nodded in agreement, her hand resting on Ren's arm. "We'll stick together, like always. If something feels off, we can bail, no harm done. But we owe it to ourselves to see what this is all about, right?"
Ren hesitated, looking at each of his bandmates in turn. They were right—this was what they'd been working toward for so long. He couldn't let his gut feeling ruin it for them. They deserved a shot at something bigger.
Finally, he nodded, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "Alright, I'll go. But we stay sharp, okay? If something doesn't feel right, we're out of there."
"Deal," Jason said, clapping Ren on the back. "It's gonna be fine, man. You'll see."
Ren turned to Delylah, who had been listening quietly, her expression uncertain. "Hey, you wanna come with us? Might be safer if you tag along. Besides, I promised to drop you home after."
Delylah blinked, surprised by the invitation. "Are you sure? I mean, I just met you guys and all… I don't want to be a burden. This seems like it could be a big deal."
Ren shook his head, his smile more genuine this time. "Nah, don't worry about it. You won't be a burden. It can get pretty dangerous around these parts, and I'd hate to see anything happen to you. Just tag along, and I'll make sure you get home safe. I'm sure this won't take too long."
Delylah hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. If you're sure."
Ren grinned, finishing off his whiskey in one smooth gulp. "Good, then it's settled. Let's have one more round before we hit the road."
The band members cheered, raising their glasses as Fred brought over another round of shots. They downed them quickly, the alcohol loosening the last of the tension from the night's earlier events. But even as they joked and laughed, Ren couldn't shake the nagging feeling in the back of his mind, like a shadow lurking just out of sight.
Finally, as the drinks were finished and the bar began to wind down, Jason stood up, stretching his arms over his head. "Alright, let's get going before I start falling asleep."
"Hey, Fred," he called out as they made their way toward the exit, "cool if we leave our instruments here for tonight?"
Fred, who had been wiping down the bar, looked up with a lopsided grin. "Sure, but don't blame me if something breaks! You know how rowdy it gets in here."
"We'll take our chances," Sam joked, giving Fred a mock salute. "Thanks, man."
As they headed for the door, Fred waved them off with a cheerful, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" which, given Fred's past, didn't narrow down the options much.
"Bye, Fred!" Amy called, and the rest of the band echoed their goodbyes as they stepped out into the cool night air.
The street outside was quiet, a stark contrast to the noise and chaos inside The Devil's Lullaby. The neon signs buzzed softly, casting eerie, shifting shadows across the cracked pavement. The black van they used for gigs was parked at the curb, its paint chipped and rusting in places, but still reliable enough to get them from point A to point B.
"Shotgun!" Danny shouted, running ahead and claiming the front passenger seat. Jason rolled his eyes but didn't argue, sliding into the driver's seat with a resigned shrug. Sam and Amy piled into the back, the van's old shocks creaking under the weight.
Ren, meanwhile, led Delylah over to where his motorcycle was parked—a sleek, black machine that looked as dangerous as it was fast. The chrome glinted under the streetlights, and the roar of the engine was loud enough to wake the dead.
"Hop on," Ren said, handing her a spare helmet. "Don't worry, I'll take it easy."
Delylah hesitated only for a moment before climbing on behind him, her arms wrapping around his waist. She could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat through his jacket, a reassuring contrast to the wildness of the night.
With everyone settled, Ren revved the engine, the sound echoing down the empty street as the van pulled out ahead of them. They followed closely behind, the wind whipping through Ren's hair as they sped through the city, the lights flashing by in a blur.
The ride to the headquarters of Into the Void Records wasn't long, but the journey felt significant, as if they were crossing some unseen threshold into a world they didn't fully understand. And as they approached the looming building in the distance, Ren couldn't help but wonder what exactly they were about to step into.
The ride through the city was smooth, the streets gradually growing quieter as they left the neon-lit chaos of the entertainment district behind. Ren kept the motorcycle close to the van, the hum of the engine a constant, reassuring presence beneath the pounding of his heart. Delylah clung to him, her grip firm but not panicked, as if she had already placed a cautious trust in him.
As they approached their destination, the skyline shifted, the buildings around them growing taller, more imposing. The headquarters of Into the Void Records loomed ahead, a massive structure of glass and steel that seemed to reach into the clouds. The windows reflected the night sky, turning the tower into a dark monolith against the stars.
"Small label… he says?" Danny muttered, craning his neck to look up at the towering building as they pulled up to the curb.
"Right? I guess they are expanding quickly indeed," Amy added, her voice tinged with a mix of awe and skepticism as she closed the door of the van behind her.
The group gathered on the sidewalk, dwarfed by the sheer size of the building. Ren glanced up at the structure, a knot of unease tightening in his gut, but he forced it down, masking it with his usual easygoing grin.
"Well, no turning back now," Ren said, leading the way toward the entrance. The others followed, their footsteps echoing in the quiet night.
Inside, the lobby was a stark contrast to the grungy bar they had left behind. The floors were polished marble, the walls adorned with sleek, modern art. A large reception desk sat in the center, behind which a receptionist in a tailored suit looked up with a professional smile.
"Clad sent us," Ren said, his tone casual but his eyes watchful.
The receptionist's smile widened, her demeanor suddenly warm and eager. "Of course, we've been expecting you. Right this way, please."
She stood and led them to a nearby elevator, the doors sliding open with a soft chime. The band exchanged glances as they stepped inside, the receptionist pressing a button that took them to the top floor. The ride up was smooth, but the tension in the elevator was palpable. Ren could feel it—something wasn't right, but he couldn't put his finger on it.
When the doors finally opened, they stepped out onto a massive floor that was all sharp angles and expensive decor. The furniture was sleek and modern, the lighting soft and calculated, casting everything in a muted glow. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a stunning view of the city below, but the band barely noticed, their attention drawn instead to the man waiting for them at the end of the hall.
Clad sat behind a large, polished desk, his suit immaculate, his hands folded neatly in front of him. But it wasn't the professional setting or his pristine appearance that made Ren pause—it was the way Clad was staring at them, his eyes unblinking, a cold, menacing gleam lurking beneath his calm exterior.
"So glad you guys could make it," Clad said, his voice smooth as silk but carrying an edge that sent a shiver down Ren's spine.
The receptionist gave a slight bow and left the room at Clad's command, the door clicking shut behind her. The band hesitated for a moment, then slowly took their seats in the plush chairs arranged before the desk. The tension in the room was thick, the sense of wrongness growing with each passing second.
Clad smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I've been looking forward to this conversation. I think we can do great things together, take your sound to new heights. What do you say?"
The band members exchanged uneasy glances, the initial excitement from the bar now tempered by the strange atmosphere in the room. Even Danny, usually the most carefree, seemed on edge. But before anyone could respond, Clad's expression began to change.
It started with a twitch—a small, involuntary spasm in his face that was quickly followed by another, more pronounced jerk of his head. His hands, still clasped on the desk, began to tremble, the knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge. The air in the room grew heavy, charged with something dark and malevolent.
"What the hell…?" Jason muttered, his eyes wide as he watched Clad's unnatural movements.
Amy shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her unease turning to fear. "This is getting weird, Ren," she whispered, her voice tight. "We should go."
Ren was already on edge, every instinct screaming at him that they needed to leave, now. But before he could move, Clad suddenly slammed his hand down on a hidden button beneath his desk. There was a sharp, mechanical whirr as the windows were abruptly covered by thick, metal shutters, plunging the room into an oppressive darkness. The door behind them clicked ominously, the sound of heavy bolts sliding into place sending a spike of adrenaline through Ren's veins.
"What the fuck is this?!" Sam shouted, jumping to his feet and rushing to the door, yanking at the handle, but it wouldn't budge. They were trapped.
Clad's breathing grew heavy, labored, as he slumped back in his chair, his body convulsing violently. His skin began to ripple, tearing apart at the seams, as if something was trying to claw its way out from within him. His once neatly combed hair fell out in clumps, replaced by patches of coarse, black fur. His face twisted, elongating into a grotesque, wolf-like snout, jagged fangs bursting through his gums.
"I'm so sorry," Clad rasped, his voice now a deep, guttural growl. His eyes, once human, were now a sickly yellow, glowing with a predatory hunger. "But there was no record label contract. Actually, I wanted you all here for something else…"
He licked his lips with a long, serpentine tongue, his transformation complete. What sat before them was no longer a man, but a monstrous, demonic creature—a Voider in its true form, a hideous amalgamation of wolf and man, its back hunched under the weight of powerful, blackened wings that unfurled with a leathery snap.
The band froze, horror-stricken, as the creature rose to its full height, towering over them. Its claws were as long as daggers, dripping with dark ichor, and its eyes gleamed with a twisted, ravenous glee.
Delylah screamed, the sound piercing through the room, snapping Ren out of his stunned paralysis. He stepped in front of her, his body instinctively moving to shield her from the creature. "Get behind me," he ordered, his voice firm despite the fear gnawing at his insides.
"Run!" Ren shouted to the others, his heart hammering in his chest. "Get to the door, now!"
But the creature was faster. It moved with terrifying speed, lunging across the room and slamming Sam into the wall with a sickening crunch. Sam gasped, blood spraying from his mouth as the creature's claws tore through his chest, ripping out his heart in one swift, brutal motion. The heart pulsed weakly in the monster's hand before it was devoured with a single, savage bite.
"Sam!" Amy screamed, her voice breaking as she stumbled back, tears streaming down her face. She turned to run, but the creature was on her in a heartbeat, its fangs sinking into her neck. There was a sickening crack as her spine snapped, her body going limp in its grasp before it tossed her aside like a broken doll.
Danny and Jason were already pounding on the locked door, their screams of terror echoing through the room as they tried to force it open. But it was no use—the door was sealed shut, trapping them in this nightmare.
The creature advanced on them, blood dripping from its jaws as it let out a low, guttural growl. "You humans are so fragile, so weak," it sneered, its voice a grotesque parody of Clad's once smooth tones. "But your hearts… oh, how they sustain me."
Jason turned to face the creature, his hands trembling as he raised a chair in a desperate attempt to defend himself. But the creature swatted it aside with ease, its claws slashing through the air and catching him across the chest. Jason's scream was cut short as he crumpled to the ground, blood pooling beneath him.
Danny was next, his face a mask of sheer terror as the creature closed in. "No… no, please!" he begged, backing away until he was pressed against the wall. But there was no mercy in the monster's eyes. It lunged forward, its claws tearing through Danny's flesh, ripping him apart in a gruesome spray of blood and gore.
Ren's world was spinning, his mind reeling with the horror of what was happening. His bandmates—his family—were being slaughtered before his eyes, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The creature turned its attention back to him, its yellow eyes narrowing with cruel delight.
"Don't worry, Ren," it hissed, its voice dripping with malice. "I've saved the best for last."
Ren stood his ground, his fists clenched, but he knew it was hopeless. The creature was too powerful, too fast. It was only a matter of time before it claimed him too.
The creature lunged at him, its jaws wide, ready to tear him apart. Ren barely had time to react, throwing himself in front of Delylah, shielding her with his body as the creature's claws raked across his back. Pain exploded through him, but he refused to scream, refused to give the creature the satisfaction.
Ren gritted his teeth, feeling the searing pain as the creature's claws tore through flesh and muscle, but he held firm, his body acting as a shield for Delylah. Blood flowed freely from his wounds, staining the floor beneath him, but still, Ren refused to fall. He couldn't—he had to protect her.
The creature's breath was hot and rancid against his skin as it snarled in frustration, its eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. It wasn't used to its prey fighting back, and Ren's defiance only seemed to enrage it further. The creature's claws retracted, only to strike again, this time slashing across Ren's chest, ripping through his shirt and the tattoos beneath.
"Get… out of here…" Ren gasped, pushing Delylah away, his voice a strained whisper as he struggled to stay on his feet. "Run… don't look back…"
Delylah's eyes were wide with terror, her body frozen in place, but she nodded, tears streaming down her face as she stumbled backward, trying to make it to the door. But in her frantic escape, she tripped over the lifeless body of Jason, her scream of horror echoing in the enclosed space.
The creature's attention flicked to Delylah, and a twisted smile spread across its monstrous face. "Oh, you're not going anywhere," it growled, its voice a deep, malevolent rumble that vibrated through the room.
It moved toward her with deadly intent, but Ren, fueled by a surge of adrenaline and desperation, lunged forward, tackling the creature with all the strength he had left. They crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs, Ren's fists pounding against the creature's face and body in a flurry of blows. But it was like hitting solid stone—his punches did little more than stagger the creature, and the effort left him gasping for breath, his vision blurring from the blood loss.
With a roar of rage, the creature threw Ren off of it, sending him crashing into a wall with bone-shattering force. Ren's head snapped back, and for a moment, everything went black. When his vision cleared, he saw the creature looming over Delylah, its jaws dripping with blood, its claws raised for the final strike.
"No!" Ren's voice cracked with desperation as he struggled to move, but his body refused to obey. He could only watch in horror as the creature's claws came down, slashing across Delylah's chest with brutal precision. Her scream was cut short, her eyes wide with pain and terror as she collapsed to the floor, blood pooling beneath her.
"Delylah…" Ren's voice was barely a whisper, the sight of her lifeless body shattering what little resolve he had left. He had failed—failed to protect her, failed to save his friends. The weight of his failure crushed him, and for the first time, he felt truly powerless.
The creature turned its gaze back to Ren, its twisted smile widening as it stalked toward him, savoring the fear and despair radiating from its prey. "You should have run when you had the chance," it taunted, its voice dripping with malice.
Ren could barely lift his head, his strength drained, his vision darkening at the edges. But he refused to give the creature the satisfaction of seeing him broken. He met its gaze with a defiant glare, his voice a hoarse whisper. "You'll… pay for this…"
The creature laughed, a low, guttural sound that reverberated through the room. "Oh, I doubt that," it sneered, raising its claws for the final blow. "But don't worry—you won't have to suffer for long."
With a guttural growl, the creature's claws came down, piercing through Ren's chest with a sickening crunch. Ren gasped, his body convulsing as the pain consumed him, but he still managed to lift his head, meeting the creature's eyes one last time.
"Fuck… you…" Ren spat, blood bubbling up from his lips as the last of his strength left him.
The creature grinned, its fangs gleaming in the dim light. "Oh, you'll be wishing you never said that," it sneered, before it yanked its claws free, tearing Ren's heart from his chest in one brutal motion.
Ren's world exploded in pain, a white-hot flash that obliterated everything else. He could feel his life slipping away, the darkness closing in around him, but he held onto one final image—the faces of his bandmates and Delylah, the ones he had sworn to protect, now lying lifeless on the bloody floor. And then, there was nothing.
The creature stood over Ren's lifeless body, its breath coming in ragged gasps as it licked the blood from its claws. The satisfaction of the kill was almost intoxicating, the power of the consumed hearts fueling its twisted, monstrous form.
Just as it finished, the door to the room opened, and the receptionist walked in, her expression cold and unflinching as she surveyed the carnage. "Are we done here, sir?" she asked, her voice as calm as if she were discussing a routine business meeting.
"Yes, this was quite a meal," Clad—or rather, the creature that had once been Clad—replied, its voice reverting back to its human tone, though the monstrous grin remained. "Take care of the bodies. Dump them by the city dams."
The receptionist nodded, already making plans in her mind. "Understood. I'll have it done immediately."
She turned and left the room, leaving the creature alone with the remains of the band. It looked around at the destruction it had wrought, the blood and broken bodies scattered across the floor, and felt a deep, primal satisfaction.
But as it gazed down at Ren's lifeless form, something strange happened—a flicker of movement, a faint pulse of energy that the creature could sense even in its altered state. It frowned, crouching down to get a closer look at the body, but whatever it had felt was gone, leaving only the stillness of death in its wake.
The creature shook its head, dismissing the moment as a trick of the mind. It had work to do, after all—this was just the beginning. And with that, it rose to its full height and strode out of the room, leaving the corpses behind in the darkness.