The performer’s name was Zach Vall. I had never heard of him. A search pulled up dozens of the most puerile, simple-minded metal songs I had ever heard. Tits, drugs, guitar, and a weird obsession with lips? But always with an undercurrent of fighting the power.
No more wars, no more draft. No more dying for oil and sand. No more drone strikes on helpless people. Government hates you, government has to die. Videos filled with insane AI-generated simulations of female celebrities, refitted with gigantic proportions and outrageous lips.
The AI women were all meant to be parodies of influencers and mainstream rock stars used to seduce young men and women into serving the state. I remember one grotesque AI pop star chanting, “Die for me. Die for money. Die for God.”
I couldn’t believe it when I pulled up some recent photos. This sad shirtless moron in leather pants was a demon thrall? Then I looked at some older photos and kind of got it. This dude was hot, back in the day. Ridiculous hair and purple pants, but hot; smoldering, skinny rock star hot.
I never understood the rock star thing, but I had to admit it was real, after seeing multiple women I thought of as “good girls” completely lose their shit and throw themselves at performers.
I took Judy to a show at a dirty warehouse club one night, shortly after we moved in together. I was excited to go, because I remembered these guys from Texas, a pop punk band from Denton who didn’t look like rock stars at all. Just looked like a bunch of normal guys picked up instruments and wandered out on stage.
I was thrilled to see this group that I thought of as “my guys” doing a national tour, finally getting the recognition they deserved, singing happy, upbeat pop songs, making fun of singers who were mad at their dads.
I shook hands with the lead singer and quizzed him about his lyrics, while Judy chatted up the bass player at the merch table. And then, I watched my sophisticated art student girlfriend yank her shirt down and let this bass player lick her nipple.
I remember being so stunned; I didn’t quite trust my own eyes. Did that really just happen? Right in front of me? Then I rode home with her, watching Judy squeal and bounce around like a teenage girl, with his spit slowly drying on her chest.
That’s when I decided everything I thought I knew about women was wrong, and that I would never really understand them at all. I’m not saying Judy is to blame for me switching to demons and giving up on human women but shit like this did not help.
* * *
Getting a vial of experimental methadone turned out to be way, way easier than I thought. I was prepared for a thrilling adventure that would require shifting identities, spoofing cameras, and maybe a high-wire levitation act dangling from an air vent.
But I just met this guy behind an old brick building, and he put the vial in my hand. No names, no discussion. And when I asked if I needed to pay him, he said he had “everything he wanted” and if I ever needed anything else, he made it clear that he would do anything to see Sylvia again.
* * *
Zach Vall was pushing sixty, but he still had that thing.
I was surprised at how quickly his people hustled me back to him, the moment I said Sylvia’s name. One minute, I was just another idiot crowding the stage, the next, I was surrounded by giant men in black t-shirts, forming a protective cordon around me as I was ushered past multiple checkpoints, to end up at a dressing room that smelled like sweat and stale perfume.
“What the fuck?” I muttered, as the crowd parted for me. “Did I just become president?”
Zach had clearly seen a hard decade or two. His shiny long hair was dull now, his blue eyes clouded by years of smoke and bad dreams. He still had amazing cheekbones, and he never let himself get fat, but there was a permanent sadness in him now, and he was leaning into it, with black clothes and too much mascara.
He had a groupie to either side of him on the couch, cuddling and giggling while he kissed their necks and whispered in their ears. I caught a whiff of them as I got closer and the rock star lifestyle… did not smell great.
And these groupies were at least ten years too old to be wearing the clothes they were in. I got a closer look at them and wondered if there were a couple teenage girls lost in the crowd, looking for their moms.
Zach looked very comfy on his couch, but as soon as he saw me, he jumped to his feet and waved at the groupies to fuck off. I got a closer look at them, and the question slipped out automatically, before I realized how rude it was.
“What’s wrong with their lips?” Both women had outrageous enlarged lips, like the parodies in his videos, like their lips were tires that had too much air in them.
“I give them a potion,” Zach said. “I can’t stand girls with skinny lips.” He waited for the giant men in black shirts to leave, then said, “Did you bring it?”
There was a terrible hunger in his voice, a naked, helpless need that was terrifying to see up close. I showed him the bottle and Zach said, “Please,” with his hand out, in the same tone I had used on Baalphezar, when I was begging on my knees.
I put the bottle in his hand, and he injected half of it immediately, right in front of me. As soon as he got his drug, Zach collapsed on his couch, with a beatific smile on his face. The years melted away, and I saw the rock star in him again, that master of the universe body language men get when women love every little thing they do. Part of it was natural, I guess, part of that long, skinny body type that makes every little movement look easy, sexy, and smooth.
“Thanks man,” Zach said. “You’re my best fucking friend today. What’s your name?” But then he stopped. “No, nevermind. Don’t tell me. It’s better if I don’t know. What happened to my regular guy? What happened to Louie?”
“I don’t know who that is. They just told me to grab this bottle and tell everybody Sylvia sent me until I could hand it to you.”
“So, that means she still loves me, right? If she cared enough to send you, that means she still loves me. That she’s still taking care of me, even if we can’t be together anymore.”
“I don’t know, man. I don’t really know anything.”
“Yeah,” Zach said, with that slow, certain smile. It looked creepy as fuck to me, but would I be melting, if I was a girl right now? “Yeah, she loves me. When something like Sylvia says she loves you, she means it forever. Real forever, not like when a human girl says it.”
“I don’t know, man. I’ve never met her.”
“Oh, you’re meeting her right now,” Zach said, tapping a poster over his head. “She’s on all my album covers. Look at those lips. I had those, man. For years I had those, whenever I wanted, any way I wanted.”
I had to admit, Sylvia was magnificent. Pale skin, gigantic tits, eyes, nails, horns, and nipples so purple, they were almost black. Now this was a succubus Veazey could appreciate, an anime character come to life, rendered in exquisite detail from every angle as I looked through ten years of album covers on the walls.
Talk about hiding in plain sight. Anybody looking at these close-ups would think they were an AI parody, but this wasn’t a computer-generated body, this was a physical demon body, photographed exactly as it was, in a context no one would ever believe.
Her beauty was terrifying. Merciless. Alien. Radiating power. I wasn’t looking at one of her lovers. I was looking at one of her victims, seeing what a lifetime of forbidden fruit does to a man.
“Zach, can I ask you a question? I’m new, and I’m trying to understand how this works. Why would demons seduce a rock star? What did you do for them?”
“At first, they didn’t ask for anything,” Zach said, like I was already his best friend. “At first, they just said they were fans. Sylvia said her Master picked me because someone who hired him loved my music. He even had me meet the guy, some guy who worked in the White House, who wanted to make people turn against the government, so the corps could ride in and save the day.
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“He said my music would make the kids go along with it, especially if the UN fucked up the global currency thing like he said they would. And sure enough, they did. He even warned me about it, years before it happened. Said cash would be worthless, and I needed to buy shares in the ten companies that he was working for.
“Made a shitload of money off that, once money based on stock was the only kind of money that worked. I could have stopped performing in ‘46, but Sylvia told me I had to keep going, to write songs to celebrate the end of government wars and nation-state limits. No borders, no debts, a whole world liberated from all the shit that owned them. Mortgages and car payments and student loans and shit. All gone, so let’s party.
“And we did. This dude was so happy the day money stopped working; he gave me his daughter. Said she wanted me to be her first, and that I should keep her in my suite until shit blew over. That I could just drop by and bring her back to Virginia ‘whenever.’ Really sweet girl. I think she’s got her dad’s job now.”
“Zach, did Sylvia ever make you hurt anybody?”
“Kind of, but it doesn’t count. When Sylvia tells you to do something, you just do it. And it feels great. Whatever it is, it feels great. She can tell you to stick a knife all the way through your hand and you’ll just giggle and make funny patterns with the blood.
“So, when she tells you to kill somebody, it’s not really you. I mean, it’s your hands, I guess. You can see it and smell it and hear people make noises when they die, but you don’t care like you would if it was you.
“Some of the government guys balked when the corps asked them to step down, so we gave their kids free tickets to my show. Most of the resistance gave up right away, when they saw their daughters with me, but sometimes they would resist, and Sylvia would make me do stuff and send video to their dads.
“Pretty nasty stuff, but it wasn’t me doing it. It wasn’t my soul hurting people, those were just my hands, being used by someone else. Sylvia killed a couple people with my hands, but none of that was me. I would never hurt anybody.”
“I didn’t used to need this,” Zach said, sloshing the liquid left in his bottle. “I was never a fucking drug addict. I wasn’t like those old fucks from 20c. I took care of myself. Diet, exercise. I was clean and I made everybody around me work clean. Then I met Sylvia, and the way she makes you feel; just one word and she can make it the best day of your life.
“I don’t really like heroin, or whatever this new shit is. It’s just the only thing that can make me feel the way she did. I wouldn’t need any of this shit if she would just let me hear her voice again. I don’t need much. Just pop in and say one word to me, every couple days. Just walk by and let me see her, maybe a little kiss, just for old times…”
“Zach, are you okay? Do you need me to get somebody?”
“Nah,” he said, suddenly sounding sober. “Just drifting a little. They’ve really improved this since last time.”
“Zach, did you ever ask for help? Did you ever try to get out? To get away from the demons?”
“Sure,” he said. “I even went to church. Lost my shit in front of a burned-out altar and begged Gabriel to come and save me. This angel chick came down and bitch-slapped me. That’s where I got this.” Zach turned his head to show me a burn mark on his cheek. “She said I was a nasty unclean liar. She said I couldn’t ask forgiveness for anything until I admitted it was my fault. But it wasn’t my fault! Sylvia did all that shit, not me! But that angel bitch vanished and left me there. So, I went back to Sylvia, said I was sorry, and let her know I was all in.
“She’s gonna reward me, too. She’s gonna make me a demon when I die. A beautiful rock and roll demon, playing songs for all the souls in Hell. She’s made me wait, all this time, but I know she’ll pay up eventually. Demons always keep their word. Not like people. People lie all the time.”
“Zach, do you want to die?”
“Nobody wants to die,” Zach said. “It’s just the only way to not live anymore.”
* * *
“I only had a couple moments like that,” Zach said. “Most of the time it was fun. So much fuckin’ money. Cars and boats and planes. I saw the whole fuckin’ world. Nobody partied as hard as I did when I started, and nobody else saw the shit I’ve seen.
“Sylvia took me to places no one can go. I saw fucking Atlantis, man. Wrote a song about it. Everybody thinks I made it up, but the shit in that video, that’s shit I really saw. Glass columns and walls made of crystal, rows and rows of cages with the bones of crazy animals in them. The shit I saw, I wouldn’t trade that for anything.
“And you can have some serious fun, when you have your own demon. The shit Sylvia can do… Had this one apologist bitch, went on all these shows bad-mouthing me. Bony and loud but still fuckable, you know? I had Sylvia go get her for me and bring her back to one of my houses. Don’t get the wrong idea, I didn’t need a demon to get women for me. Girls at my shows would do anything I wanted, just so they could brag to their friends about it.
“But this chick hated me, so I had Sylvia make her want it, because she secretly did, of course. That’s what the whole thing was about. I think she came to a show, and she wasn’t hot enough to go back stage, so she spent the next five years screaming on talk shows about what an evil prick I am.
“Spent the whole weekend with her, but she doesn’t even remember it. Sylvia wiped her memory and took her back home. She woke up drunk and sore in her own bed, with no idea of where those two days went. That’s the kind of shit you can do, if anybody fucks with you, after you sign up.”
“You look really young to be doing this kind of shit,” Zach said, eyeing me. “Are you a CEO’s kid? Are they recruiting you for something? What’s your thing?”
I said, “Magic,” before I could stop myself.
“Wait,” Zach stammered, as his whole demeanor changed. “Oh god, oh shit, oh fuck. Are you one of the wizards? Holy shit, you didn’t tell me you were one of the wizards! Please man, I was just fucking around, okay? All that shit I told you, I was just fucking around, talking shit to the new kid, you know? I didn’t mean any of that shit I said. I’m not angry, I’m not sad. I’m happy, and I’m loyal, and I’m ready to go.
“Whatever the Big Guy needs, I’m still here and I’m ready to work. I’m sorry if I’ve… I’m sorry if I’ve let myself go, but I promise I can still get shit done. Please don’t tell your demon anything I said. Please don’t repeat any of it to anyone who works for him. Tell him I’m grateful, alright? Just tell him how grateful I am, and maybe tell him, tell him I don’t look as bad as last time? That I’m eating better, and I look strong, you know? Strong, for my age? Can you tell him that?”
“It’s okay,” I said, trying to reassure him. “I won’t say anything about anything. Just two guys talkin’. Doesn’t mean anything.”
“Thank you,” Zach said, openly weeping now. “It really is fun, having a demon. Guy your age, you’ve got so much time to do so much cool shit. And they’re not really your hands. Whatever you do, they’re not really your hands when he’s using them. Just keep telling yourself that, and if you can make yourself believe it, maybe you won’t fall apart like me. If you can believe that you won’t need drugs at all, and you can just enjoy it, just like she said I would.”
I left quietly as Zach fell asleep.
* * *
“Lydia, why would you show me that?” I confronted her, as soon as I got back home. “If you want me to honor this contract, why would you show me the worst possible example of what happens when a man goes along with this?”
“He took the drug?” Lydia asked.
“He took half the bottle in one shot and fell asleep. Lydia, what was in that bottle? The guy told me it was experimental methadone. Feels like heroin, but better for your body. Is that true? Please tell me that was true.”
“You know what it was, Timothy. And you know why I gave it to him.”
“Lydia, did you just have me kill a man?”
“Did you inject it for him?”
“Of course not. He was sleeping, but he was alive when I left.”
“And when he woke up, he took the other half, and woke up in Hell.”
“Why did you kill him?”
“He was threatening to reverse course, change the message of his music and admit tearing down the old world was a mistake. His next album was going to be a remix of old patriotic songs, set to modern music. The order to remove him came from the White House, what used to be the White House. I keep forgetting no one lives there anymore.”
“So, I just killed a man. You told me there would be no killing, and in the next breath…”
“You did not kill a man. You delivered a bottle that helped a man kill himself. And I trust you saw enough to realize it was a mercy.”
“A mercy? There was still hope for that guy! He could have gone to rehab! He could have gone straight, got religion or confessed to murder or something!”
“Timothy, you met him. You think Zachary Vall would ever check himself into a hospital? You think that man would have ever taken responsibility for anything?”
“Why would you show that to me? Were you just trying to make me afraid of Sylvia? Because if that’s the case, then Mission Fucking Accomplished! A demon who can snap her fingers and take your free will away? That is worse than death. Could you do that? Could you control me like that, if you wanted to?”
“I would never do that. And Sylvia’s powers are far beyond mine.”
“So, what was I supposed to learn from that evil, degenerate piece of shit?”
“I needed you to complete a mission for my Master, to infiltrate a secure location and prove that you can be trusted to handle delicate situations.”
“What secure location? The guy met me around back and put it in my hand.”
“Oh, how fortunate,” Lydia said, deadpan. “I told Sylvia it would be extremely difficult, now that her man inside had been removed. Nice to see that wasn’t necessary.”
“Lydia, did you…” I began but stopped myself. Did I just catch Lydia lying to her Master to protect us? Making it sound like an honest mistake that she just “forgot” to correct? And if she was willing to lie about this, what else could she lie about?
“My Master should be quite pleased that we have solved this problem for him. I might even be allowed back in your bed again, if he thinks it would help me manage you.”
“Your Master tried to kill one of my friends yesterday, and you think I’m ready to cuddle?”
“No,” Lydia admitted. “It may be weeks, months before you let me touch you again, but I want you to know, I will be here when you need me, when you finally change your mind.”
“And you are so damn sure that I will change my mind.”
“We have to depend on each other, through whatever is required of us. Even Tobias accepted me eventually.”
* * *
I asked Azael directly if the death of Zach Vall was a stain on my soul, but he refused to answer. He just asked me if I regretted it, and I said, hell yes! I would have taken the guy to rehab if it were up to me. If I had known he was going to die, I might have even tried to fight twenty bodyguards and a thousand fans to get him out.
* * *
“So, somebody ‘hired’ your Master and Sylvia recruited this rock star to help destabilize the old governments. But who’s using who here? Did demons use corporations to take over the world, or did corporations use the demons?”
Lydia just shook her head.