Arielle was 18 years and 6 days of age, as she had been telling everyone all day. She was a beautiful girl, with an almost unearthly, ethereal look; pale skin, exaggerated by skillfully applied ebony makeup and gothic clothing that accentuated her willowy body; a girl balancing on the razor’s edge of womanhood.  She had been going steady with Aidan for nearly three months, the longest she had ever dated any boy.  He had surprised her with tickets to Angels of Carrion for her birthday, her favorite goth metal band, and she had been crawling out of her skin for the last week in anticipation.

Now here she was, All Hallows Eve and the concert drawing to a close, lost in a sea of shrieking fans, their voices rising in a single piercing chorus, screaming like banshees for an encore.  There! Angels of Carrion reappeared on stage, barely discernable within the smoke and shadows, and it reminded her of how the dead appear to ooze from swirling fog and dark of night in horror movies…almost slithering, like some serpentine thing, between crumbling headstones and grave markers of a long forgotten cemetery.  She dreamily surrendered herself to the song she had waited the entire evening for, “Eventide Of The Night Watchman”.

Slowly she arose from her hypnotic state as the final notes washed over the crowd.   The band disappeared, strangely enveloped by the smoke, except for her idol, Daemon Succubus.  His eyes skimmed over the fans and his deep, velvet voice spoke the ticket number of the winner of a backstage pass.  It was HER number!  She stood transfixed momentarily, then shrieked and waved her ticket triumphantly in the air.

Arielle and Aidan were not far from the stage, and security motioned her to the front.  They fought their way through departing fans, like a bird flying into a gale.  Finally there, security grasped their hands as they climbed a roady’s makeshift stairs, and pulled them onto the stage.  Waiting just out of sight behind the gauzy, black curtains, in the back corner of the stage, was Daemon.  As she drew near, he took her delicate hand as a man would his mistress’s, and lead her backstage with Aidan following behind, eyes shooting daggers furiously into their backs.

In the dimly lit dressing room, Daemon introduced her to his band mates.  They eyed her approvingly, noting her pale ivory skin, her violet eyes, lined in shimmering kohl black, and her full lips, with lip gloss as black as obsidian, and as shiny.  As she spoke with Daemon, his eyes seemed to sparkle, and he smiled ever so slightly.  “You have a voice as beautiful as a crystal bell, melodic and hypnotic” he said.  He asked her to sing a line or two of her favorite song.  She couldn’t believe this was happening. She closed her eyes and sang her favorite refrains from Eventide Of  The Night Watchman: 

“When Angels fall from grace to tender ground
And deepening shadows gather long around
So cool and dark without a sound
I feel my death so near
When stars explode across the sky
Their brilliant embers’ death throes die
Your midnight murmurs drawing nigh
I feel my death so near…….”

Arielle’s voice trailed off, the quiet in the room was deafening.  “You have the voice of an Angel” Daemon said.  

“The voice of an Angel???” said Aidan, “you’re kidding me, man!” 

“Aidan, don’t” Arielle whispered.

“Your voice is like fingernails on a chalkboard!” Aidan spat. “The voice of an Angel, please!”

“Aidan, shut UP!” growled Arielle.

“Whatever” snapped Aidan. “I’m outta here! See ya later….‘Angel’” he said, his voice dripping with venom.  He stomped out the door, footsteps fading down the hallway.

“You really do have the voice of an Angel” Daemon said to Arielle “I’ll give you a chance to prove it. Would you like to do the vocals on a new song I wrote?  It’s perfect for your voice.”

“I would love that” said Arielle, “but I don’t have the voice of an Angel.”  

“Yes, you do” Daemon said, smiling.  “and I know how to draw out that Angel in your voice.”

They left the stadium and drove through the gloomy night to an old mansion outside of town.  “We’ve set up a temporary recording studio while we’re here for the concerts,” said Daemon, “so we can work on our next album.”

He took Arielle into the recording studio filled with mixing boards and strange equipment.  They went over the song several times, practicing until she had it perfect.

“Now” Daemon said, “it’s time for you to sing like an Angel.”

Arielle sang, eyes closed, feeling so far away…floating in the darkness….

“In a brilliant fleeting arc, a flash of light that cuts the dark
Try to touch the moonlight, long after it has fled
A shooting star to pierce the night, come and gone, a soul in flight
Plummets suddenly from sight, into misty nether realms of dead….”

“That’s a wrap” said Daemon, his words slowly pulling her back from some place distant.  Odd, she remembered singing the first few lines, but what happened after that?  She couldn’t seem to remember.

Still in a fog, she watched Daemon, headphones on, mixing the track.  Finally, music began to play and. Sarah listened, as if in a dream.  When it finished, she whispered “wow, doesn’t sound like me.  Those screams, starting after the first couple of lines…….they sound so far away, I barely hear them, yet…..it’s like they’re inside my head, they make me feel so cold …how did you do that?”

“You did that.  That’s you, Arielle…singing like an Angel…a dark Angel of Carrion”.  Daemon took her cold hand in his and pulled her to him, smiling wickedly.  She watched a droplet of blood slowly trickle from the corner of his mouth.  He gently caressed her neck, and as he removed his hand, she saw blood there.  Arielle’s violet eyes drifted to the dark window…and saw nothing reflected there…nothing, but the equipment….