[WP] You are a musician who has sold their soul to the devil in exchange for unworldly talents. Now, in the midst of your short-lived but legendary career, the devil has come to collect his due.

I had just finished playing a show in Atlanta Georgia of all places. This life was glamorous at first, it was everything I had ever wanted. I had money, a voice like velvet, millions of fans who wanted to meet me. Years of playing to small to non-existent fanbase around the south and living out of my van was behind me now, I had the life of a rockstar. Oh yeah, best of all...... I had women..... women of all shapes, sizes (judge me all you want I made a deal with the devil after all), hair color, skin color. My life was amazing and all I had ever wanted. This was my favorite part because contrary to popular belief most girls don't want to sleep with a musician who lives in a van.

 Lately my performances had been slipping. My music didn't have the soul it used to, ironic right? It all happened so fast, I met the stranger the way I was told I would, I signed a contract then I exploded overnight. The directions to find "old scratch" were actually fairly simple, I wasn't the first to trade his sole for fame apparently. 

At first my heart was in it, I couldn't get enough of the fame and fortune. Then slowly I started realizing that I wasn't here because I had earned it. I was here because I was so desperate for this life that I traded away what was most precious to me. Without my soul writing new music became almost impossible, I just didn't feel the raw emotion that I use to put into my music. The studio heads eventually brought in ghost writers and composers to write my latest album when it became apparent that I just wasn't going to cut it. 

 After three hit albums (all made of music I had written prior to my dealings with the stanger) and 3 world tours my short career was on the down swing. Everyone knew it, I knew it. 
 That didn't worry me much though, as much as it was now 6 years, 6 months, and 5 days since I made that contract. Which of course means that when the clock hits 6:00 P.M. the Devil is going to get his due. I received a letter in the mail this morning. Red parchment with black writing, I know the style, it's the same style the contract was written on. It says to meet me at the cross roads where we did our dealings and not to make this harder than it needs to be, he'd be waiting, he was always waiting. 

I fucked up, I made this deal but I wont make this easy on him. I put a few articles of clothes into a duffel bag, I'll run to a church and claim sanctuary, I'll repent, it has to work. Do I still have my van? did I sell it?

 I run through the front door of my penthouse only to fall straight on my face. I'm now lying facedown in dirt, more precisely on a dirt road. I get up and brush myself off. I look around, there is nothing around me except fields made of dust, this land has been barren for a long time, it looked the same six years ago. Sure enough, here I am in the middle of an intersection of crossing dirt roads which seem to stretch on forever. I look up and I see a street sign "neither here rd. and Nor there way". This is where you find him kids, in the middle of rural Georgia, no idea why. This is where I was told I would find him 6 years ago and here I was again. 

I feel him before he speaks, the hairs on the back of my neck bristle. "You ready Boy?" He has a raspy low voice. "You ready to conclude our dealins' and honor your side of the bargain?" I say nothing, I turn to face him. He hasn't bothered pretending to look human, not this time. Large hoofs ending in red fur protrude out from under his trench coat. He's wearing one of those old timy preacher hats with a large brim. He has his head tilted down so I can't see his face. The front of the hat rests on a pair of large black horns, the tips poke out beyond the brim of the hat. I can see a long white beard brushing the top of his trench coat. It's 98 degrees and the sun is setting, I can see the steam rise from his breath. "I'll ask you again, and this is the last time, are you ready to honor your side of the bargain boy? or are things about to get nasty?" I here the old demon speak and I feel sick in the pit of my stomach. "Don't I get a fiddle contest or something to try to win possession of my soul?" "Don't get cute with me son, you've had your time in the spot light, now it's time to pay up." I can now see a long red tail brushing the dirt impatiently, guess it's true devil isn't very patient. "This ain't a Disney Story, there is no happy ending here for you. There is no way to buy your way out of this contract, there is no way to challenge me to a game, a contest of skill, or any other hogwash you read about. Did you read it, boy? it's iron clad, you have made your bed, now you must lay in it." He takes a step towards me, I am filled with fear, his voice gets louder "when I was a younger demon I would live for a challenge where the prize was a human soul, but not anymore, I've grown to old for games." I have an idea, "I haven't had a chance to read through it yet actually, when I signed the contract in blood you took the only copy and disappeared. I'd like to read it, you can't take possession of my soul until I at least have had a chance to read what I signed, that's only fair right?." This annoys him greatly I can tell. However, he complies and reaches into his sleeve with his long red fingers and produces a long piece of parchment paper. He holds it out in front of me, when I go to grab it he grabs my wrist. That's when I see under his hat just enough to see a smile, a long toothy smile. "Time to pay up boy." He thrusts his hand into my chest, the pain is excruciating. I open my eyes long enough to see his smile turn to a grimace. "Where the hell is it?" I hear him whisper to himself. He drops me on the ground I hit the dirt, hard. As I am about to pass out I see him walking slowly away. Right before I lose consciousness I see him snap his fingers, all goes black. 
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