The lights dimmed—or tried to. One flickered like a moth on its last wing while the rest buzzed angrily like they owed someone rent. But the crowd in the “Red Pines Pavilion” didn’t care. They were already half-drunk, half-hyped, and whole-heartedly rowdy.

A dude in the front row screamed, “SHOW US YER TEETH!” right before pouring Coors on his own head.

Backstage, Thane’s headset buzzed with static. “Mark, I swear—if the foggers fire during the opening line again, I will bite the fuse out of them.”

Mark’s reply was bone-dry: “No promises. The breakers are doing Morse code and I think they’re asking for help.”

Cassie stood by the curtain, microphone clutched like a dagger, hair wild and eyes burning. “This is gonna be one for the FBI files, isn’t it?”

Gabriel bounced on his heels, bass strapped low, coffee in one clawed hand, absolute chaos dancing in his icy blue eyes. “I love this already.”

“Y’all are feral,” Maya muttered, adjusting her guitar strap (duct taped for extra faith).

“Damn right,” Rico said from behind his battered lead guitar, running a pick down the strings with a flick that sparked pure mischief. “Let’s burn this barn.”

Thane barked into the headset, “Standby, lighting—”

BOOM.

The foggers exploded at once.

Every VL2B Mark had managed to coax into life fired a hellbeam of red down into the fog, slicing through the room like the wrath of a disco demon.

A beat of silence.

Then…

Cassie screamed the first lyric.

And the barn went berserk.

Gabriel launched into the bassline like he was possessed, claws shredding across strings, tail whipping, head thrown back as he roared into the opening chorus. Fans screamed back. Some howled. One tried to climb the stage and was immediately tackled by a bouncer who looked like he used to wrestle gators.

Maya shredded rhythm guitar like it owed her child support. Her eyes blazed with fury as she stomped across the crooked stage, body angled into every chord.

Rico let loose with a solo so intense, sparks flew from his amp—or maybe that was the faulty wiring. Either way, it added to the aesthetic.

Jonah was a demon behind the drums. At one point, he flung a stick into the air and caught it with his teeth like some kind of heavy metal seal. The crowd lost their minds.

Cassie’s vocals ripped through the rafters—pure power, raw rage, and zero chill. She hit a note so hard it made one of the beer signs fall off the back wall.

Thane, stage-right at the board, fur dripping, headset half-fried from sweat and panic, was manually rerouting power while shouting into his backup mic: “YES, MARK, I SEE THE STROBE—NO, DON’T AIM IT AT THE DANCE FLOOR—TOO LATE, NEVER MIND!”

Mark, from the back truss, was cackling into comms while running a rapid-fire combo of red-white-red that turned the crowd into a sea of seizure-dancing cowboys.

Someone crowd-surfed in a hay bale.

Two couples started line dancing in the pit.

A fight broke out over whether Gabriel was “part bat” or “just built different.”

And through it all, the band crushed it.

By the time the final song hit, “Red Moon Rising,” the air was thick with sweat, fog, and unfiltered Oklahoma chaos. Cassie belted the final chorus. Jonah hit a crash so hard the snare jumped. Rico lit up the last solo like a pyromaniac on a sugar rush.

Gabriel dropped to one knee, bass held like a holy weapon, and howled into the crowd.

The crowd howled back.

Thane, drenched and exhausted, hit the final cue. Every light Mark had left flared blood red one last time.

Blackout.

Silence.

Then the barn erupted.

Backstage, chaos still buzzing in their ears, the band collapsed into mismatched chairs, breathing like they’d just run from a pack of demon possums.

Mark passed around bottles of water.

Gabriel looked at his claws. “I think I dented the fretboard again.”

Jonah was still panting. “I think I need new lungs.”

Maya muttered, “I think that one guy tried to throw his boot at me.”

Cassie grinned. “We’re never gonna top that.”

Thane just laughed—low, hoarse, and a little wild.

“Oh, we will,” he said. “Just wait till we hit Arkansas.”