The Decision

Landon started at himself in the dingy mirror. What choice did he have? Was he even really considering this? Suddenly, there was pounding on the bathroom door.

“You’ve been in the for ten minutes, guy? You coming out?” 

“Screw off; I’ll come out when I’m good and ready!” 

One hour before, he had happily been playing with his band, not a care in the world except if this gig would get them a contract. Then, this rando freak confronts him at the bar. “Get a grip on yourself, Landon; you have choices. Accept his offer, or get killed. Yeah, those are great choices.” He didn’t like the look of fear he saw on the face looking back at him.

Landon had never been afraid of anything a day in his life. Not when he was in juvenile detention, not when he was holding the hand of his dying father, not even when he stood in front of a packed house with a secondhand guitar. Why was he afraid of this guy? 

“You need to come out of there, or we’re going to call security!” an angry voice vibrated off the walls around him. 

“Just give me ten minutes. Please.” The urgency in his warbling voice must have convinced whoever was banging, “Fine, you have ten minutes!” 

He turned around and surveyed the graffitied walls around him. There was no window to climb out of—just the toilet and sink and the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. He looked at his backpack sitting next to him on the floor, his leather jacket in a pile on top of it. Ten minutes and not a lot to work with. He could hear the noise from the club; the DJ had picked up when Landon and the guys finished their set. Why hadn’t he followed his bandmates out of the club? He wouldn’t be in this predicament right now if he had. “Shit!” Nine minutes. “Think Landon!” 

                                                                 ***

The creep’s voice was fresh in his mind as he replayed the conversation. He couldn’t be a demon, could he? Demon’s didn’t exist in real life. When the guy showed up, he had been sitting at the bar, enjoying a few drinks and some easy banter with the bartender.

“Landon, isn't it? Simon Wager is the name.” He had stuck his hand out for Landon to shake it, his accent a mixture of the Scottish Highlands and something else he couldn’t place. 

“Yes, what can I do for you?” 

“I have a proposition for you. I’ve been following your career for some time now, and I know you aren’t really where you want to be, record deal-wise. My associates and I are prepared to give you a very generous deal. With a few promises on your part, of course.” 

“Wow! Umm, what company did you say you were with? Are you scouting talent, or are you a record company executive? Because I can’t make any deals without the rest of the band. But if you give me your card, we can talk. Are you local?” 

“Neither. We are working independently, and it’s only you I’m interested in Landon. I mean, you’re free to bring the rest of your band along for the ride, but it’s only you I need to make the key deal with.” 

“I don’t think I follow you; I haven't heard of anything like this. I think I’ll have to pass.” Landon stood and started to turn away from the bar when Simon grabbed his arm. 

“You aren’t following me, Landon. I can give you fame and riches that you have only dreamed about. You can be on the world’s stage by the end of the week. Selling out venues like Madison Square Garden before you know what’s happening. This is not something you want to walk away from; it’s a deal you would be a fool to refuse.” The man’s grip on his arm tightened, and his eyes darkened, turning a shade of blood red. Landon had to look away. 

“A deal like this has to come at a cost, bro. What are you looking for? I don’t know you from a hole in the wall, and you’re over here grabbing onto me and making demands.” Landon pulled his arm free from the man’s cold grasp. “ I think you’re out of your mind!” 

As he turned to walk away, he could strangely hear the man’s voice over anyone else in the bar. “I can get your mom out.”  

Landon was back in his face before the man knew what was happening. “What do you know about my mom?” 

“Oh, I know everything about you, Landon. I know you spent time in detention for arson; I know you saw your dad murdered in front of you, and I know your mom is in prison for a crime she didn’t commit. A crime that makes you sick to your stomach, and I know that you would give anything to exonerate her. I know you taught yourself to play guitar on a pawn shop piece of crap. I know that you are one of the best singers who ever toured the bars of the Northeast, and I know there is a rage deep in your soul that music barely hides. And I know you pleaded to whoever could help you under the last full moon that you would give your soul for all of it.” 

He sat weakly back down on the bar stool. “How do you know all this?” 

“It’s my line of work. I have to know. Because I am the answer to that prayer.”

Landon’s voice was barely a whisper. “Go to hell.”

“I just came from there, my dear boy. Do you want to hear my deal?”  He paused for a second, “Ok, here it is. I give you everything your heart desires, and your mom gets a second chance. All you have to provide me with is your soul.”

“And if I say no?” 

“Well, no one has ever said no to one of my deals, but if you do, three demons are waiting outside who will kill you. And I get your soul anyway. It’s a win-win deal for me.” 

“I need some time. To think.” Landon was shaking as he walked toward the bathrooms. There was no way he wanted to take this deal. His soul finding an eternity of damnation wasn’t worth all the money in the world. And his mom, he wasn’t as convinced of her innocence as he once was. It was too complicated. If demons and hell were real, she wouldn’t want him there for her crimes. 

“You have until you leave this bar. We’ll be waiting for you.”

                                                         ***

That is how he found himself hiding in the bathroom with five minutes left before someone broke the door down, and he had to face his demons. Turning back toward the mirror, Landon had an idea. If they didn’t recognize him, they couldn’t kill him. They would think he was still in the bar. Grabbing his jacket, he turned it inside out so the plaid lining was on the outside. Rummaging through his bag, he found the clothes he wore to rehearsal the day before. Hastily, he changed and stuffed his stage outfit in the trash can under the sink. After more digging, he found a winter hat in one of the outside pockets. He pulled it on his head, tucking his unruly long bangs under it and smoothing it tight. Next, he grabbed his electric razor and quickly shaved his beard. Two minutes left. It would have to do. All he had to do was rush out the back door, the service entry, and run to his car. Then he could outrun whoever this lunatic was because the more he thought about it, the more he convinced himself that the guy was just a lunatic who read too many newspaper articles about him. 

One last look in the mirror, he wouldn’t recognize himself. “You got this, Landon! Head down, no eye contact, get the hell out of here!” 

Easing the bathroom door open, he was pushed aside as someone ran in. “Dumb ass!” Ignoring the guy, he put his backpack on, put his head down, and hurried through the bar. In an instant, he was outside in the aly, sprinting to the parking lot and fishing the keys from his pocket. He did it! The keys slipped between his fingers, and he bent down to pick them up, not seeing the forms creeping up on him from the shadows.