Uncanny Tales

Lights, Camera, Possession!

"I was down on my luck. Who or what else was I supposed to do for a few lousy acting gigs?"

Mike Hicks is, as of today, a well-known A-list actor. It hadn't always been that way, though. Some argue that it happened completely randomly, out of nowhere. How had an actor at the bottom of the barrel with 0 recognition, and a deadbeat casting agent, become the center of Hollywood's attention that fast? Had he made a deal with some powerful agency, or - don't mind the outlandish accusation - had he stumbled across a benevolent figure from the dark?

"I did what I had to do, I was an outcast in a sea of excellence, and all I wanted to do was swim with the best. Looking back now? I don't know if that was the best option for me. My name is Michael Hicks, and I've been taken..."

It all started when Hicks was rejected from yet another audition. This time, for a role in an upcoming superhero movie - most likely meant to kick off another cinematic universe full of unnecessary sequels, lackluster prequels, and various promising spin-offs. As he walked back out through the door he'd walked in from, fingers buried deep in his pockets and his head aimed low to the ground in sorrow, he couldn't wait to put that godawful audition behind him.

It was one of few auditions that his uninterested and chronologically absent talent agent had booked him. Did she even know what she was booking him for? He raised his head up, gazing out at the serenity of the sunset from between the vast skyscrapers of Downtown Los Angeles, and the view of the sun's rays fading down on this fast-paced way of life gave Michael a brief sensation of peace.

Very brief.

"Get the fuck outta the way!" One of the residents hisses and bumps into him, he adjusts his jacket from the impact and continues walking on with a low sigh.

He wondered why there weren't more people in the city who took the time of day to stop and look up at the sunset like he had, perhaps they'd stop being so damned uptight and self-centered. He walked, not entirely certain that he knew where he was going, and soon enough he stumbled footfirst into a bar a few blocks away. It was a decent looking place, not too rundown, but not entirely kept together.

"Glass o' scotch," He climbs up onto the barstool as the bartender wipes the counter in front of him, "and keep 'em comin'."

And so he drinks, glass after glass after glass. He usually had a very high tolerance for hard liquor, but he was starting to feel it kick in today. As he was drinking, a figure in a suit and tie walked into the bar, putting the keys to his series 10 caddy in his coat pocket as he climbed into a seat a few feet away from Michael. It occurred to Mike that a man as well dressed and as sharp looking as he did stood out like a sore thumb in a place like this. He shrugged it off, going back to his drink and muttering complaints beneath his breath.

I need to reconsider this whole acting thing, He thinks to himself as he downs another shot of scotch, I should give it a rest, get a real job in the meantime, but I really don't want to prove mom and dad right... I don't want to prove to them that I don't have what it takes.

The well dressed man grins uneasily, chugging back his drink and quickly sliding over so he was in the seat directly next to Mike's. Mike looks over at the man, a slight chill running down his spine as he feels an uncomfortable vibe rubbing off of the man's presence.

"I can change all that, you know." States the well-dressed man with a sinister smoothness to his voice.

"Beg your pardon?" Michael cocks an eyebrow, putting his glass on the counter in front of him.

"I said, I can change that. The miserable position you find yourself in, with a dead end acting career and no money in your pockets. I can change all of it, if you'd be so kind as to let me."