The house gave Roland the creeps. It wasn't the air of discrepancy that accompanied the long-abandoned buildings, or the sounds it made as they approached ... it was something else. Something he couldn't quite define, but sent the hairs on the back of his neck on edge anyway. As a general rule, this didn't disturb him. After all, the paranormal was the Ghostbusters business; they faced demons and ghosts just about every day. But that still didn't make him feel any less jittery.

He glanced back at the rest of the team. Eduardo and Kylie had their blasters out, eyes scanning the area around them for danger. They both seemed to be a bit on the tense, almost nervous, side. Garrett also had his blaster out, but he had his usual cocky grin on his face, ready to kick ghost butt. Roland swallowed, reaching for the door and opening it.

The door groaned as Roland carefully opened it and stepped in. As the oldest, he felt it was his responsibility to look out for the others. Whether it meant going in first or changing his younger sibling's diapers.

The place was as empty as and as quiet as a tomb. Little clouds of dust picked up where he stepped. He slowly walked deeper into the room, the others following.

"Hey, listen. This spook's been here a while. It can wait a little bit longer until we find out more about him," Eduardo suggested, his voice coming close to cracking.

"We already did, Eduardo," Kylie reminded him, "We know all we're gonna know until we confront him again." She and Roland had responded to the first call, but had only found residue PKE traces. The only sign that anything had been there at all was a broken fiddle lying in the middle of a scorch mark.

"Worth a shot," Eduardo muttered under his breath, eyes dancing around as the Ghostbusters crept into the room.

"So, Kylie. What did you say the name of today's lucky victim was?" Garrett asked, mockingly cheerful, trying to lighten the mood.

"A class 7 known as Jack Scratch. He travels, like the salesman, only challenging fiddlests to a contest to see who is better. If they win, they get a fiddle made of gold. They lose, the demon gets their soul."

"Maybe we should let the demon hear Roland play," Garrett grinned, "He's probably never heard anything quite like it."

Eduardo hid a snicker behind his hand. Kylie shot them a dirty glare. Roland made a mental note to thank her later.

"I play the violin, not the fiddle. There's a difference. And I still don't see what you find so funny about my learning the violin," He remarked, "It's a perfectly good instrument to play."

"Yes it is, isn't it?" a voice oozed from the air around them, sending the hairs on the back of his neck on edge. The other 3 looked around, unconsciously falling into a loose circle back to back, blasters at the ready. They couldn't pinpoint the direction the voice had come from.

"Show yourself!" he called, hoping he sounded braver than he felt.

"And just how would you have me do that? Like a demon? A ghost? A human like you, perhaps? I have many forms you know," the voice purred. This time it sounded like it was coming from Roland's left. He resisted the urge to look, holding his ground. Ro could feel the others' solid presence behind him, if they didn't see the demon, the demon probably hadn't shown himself yet.

"Any form you like," Garrett growled, with bravado. "Seen one spook, you've seen 'em all."

Scratch chuckled. "Very well. Since you wish it." He appeared off to the side of Roland, a dark shadow between him and Eduardo. Immediately, they opened fire.

"This isn't working, man!" Eduardo shouted, after a few tense heartbeats. He was right, the beams had no effect on Scratch at all. The demon wasn't even twitching.

"-And back to the sales man analogy," Garrett remarked.

"Cut the beams!" he ordered. The team did. It was the wrong choice. As soon as the packs cut out, he found himself unable to move, floating a few inches off the floor.

"I can't move!" Kylie gasped behind him.

"Me either!" Garrett growled.

"I really don't like this, man," Eduardo said nervously. Roland didn't blame him, he didn't like this either.

"That's because I do not require three of you to be moving now." Scratch said, materializing in front of him. Scratch's faintly glowing eyes were about at eye level with Roland, meaning the demon was probably about 7 feet tall. From what Roland could see of him, Scratch appeared to be a classic 'storybook' demon: huge horns; thick, leathery, red skin; and cloven feet. For some strange reason, he was also dressed in a Victorian style suit.

Scratch appraised Roland with a critical eye. "I only require him."

"What do you want?" Roland demanded.

"Nothing much," Scratch said, casually, "A few spirits to call my own, some nice music and a nice, warm hole to enjoy them in. And, in this instance, you."

"Roland?!" Garrett scoffed, surprised. "Wh-" Scratch made a quick gesture, and Garrett fell silent.

"Good. Now, every so often, I grow a bit, restless, shall we say and I go out into the mortal world to find someone of my skill to challenge to a contest. One musician to another."

"And if I refuse?" Roland asked, stoutly.

"You see, Roland, is it? You don't really have a choice. You can play me to see who is the better violinist and you and your friends go free. Or you don't and you all die. Of course, if you lose the contest, you and your friends die anyway. But it's really up to you whether you when you want to die."

Roland swallowed. "I-I don't have my violin here with me, I'd have to go get it," he managed to get out. If he went back to the firehouse, he could get Egon's help in freeing the others.

"Not a problem." Scratch snapped his fingers. Roland's violin appeared at his feet. "And here you are ... your violin. Any other arguments?"

Well, that blew that idea. Roland picked up the violin. He wasn't that good with the violin, but as the demon said, what choice did he have? At least if he played, that might give the other 3 a chance to figure a way out of this. And he wasn't going to go down without a fight. They had been in worse cases than this, granted he couldn't think of any off the top of his head, but they had survived. The Ghostbusters would get through this one, too. Roland squared his jaw and nodded.

Scratch grinned. "Excellent. Do you want the honor of going first, or shall I?"

"It's your challenge, you go first," Roland said, motioning for the demon to go. Scratch bowed, a golden fiddle and bow appearing in his hands.

"You're too kind," Scratch sneered, drawing the bow across the fiddle with an evil hiss. Roland flinched at the sound, and he could imagine the others were doing the same. Scratch seemed to find their reactions amusing, but he couldn't tell for sure. Maybe it was just the prospect of winning. The demon settled the fiddle properly under his chin, and began to play.

The music was unlike any Roland had ever heard before. It was hissy and evil-sounding, like a serpent was winding its way around them with every note. The music would some times be mocking, laughing at them for trying to best one such as he, then the next moment lauding them for defeating so many of those who threatened the mortals. It was maddening to listen to. And much to Roland's dismay, very, very good.

Finally, the last note drew itself out and faded, leaving silence hanging thickly in the air around them. Jack Scratch looked at Roland expectantly, waiting for him to start.

Roland swallowed, then tucked the fiddle under his chin in the proper place and tested it, tightening a few of the strings into tune. Once tuned to perfection to his ear, he lifted the bow and ran it across once. It let out a pitiful squeak. He flinched, the enormity of the task weighing heavily on his shoulders. He swallowed and set his jaw. The others were all counting on him. He wasn't up to Jack Scratch's level, but he wasn't going down without a fight. He muttered a quick prayer to anybody who may have been listening and lifted the bow.

To his surprise, his quick prayer did not go unanswered.

 

Garrett's jaw dropped as Roland began to play. It wasn't the normal scratching, ectoplasm damaging, eardrum piercing, screeching noise that Roland claimed as music. It was actually, well, good. Not his type of music, he preferred good ol' alternative rock and roll, but still quite listenable in that country music type of fashion. Like the stuff his parents would listen to occasionally. Only faster, and more upbeat.

"He's possessed," Kylie whispered. The demon's attention must have been drawn away from them enough that the team could talk again.

"No kidding," Eddie muttered.

He was about to make a comment when Roland did something even more shocking. Ro opened his mouth and began to sing.

"The devil went down to Georgia
He was lookin' for a soul to steal
He was in a bind
'Cause he was way behind
And he was willin' to make a deal

When he came upon this young man
Sawin' on a fiddle and playin' it hot
And the devil jumped
Up on a hickory stump
And said boy let me tell you what

Now you play a pretty good fiddle, boy
But give the devil his due
I'll bet a fiddle of gold
Against your soul
'Cause I think I'm better than you"

It kind of sounded like Roland, if Roland had been born and raised in Nashville, that is. Roland even was moving a bit differently, as if it wasn't him in his own body. Jack Scratch wouldn't know that though. The demon did seem to be losing a bit of his cockiness, though. Garrett carefully watched the deamon's reaction as Roland played and sang.

"The boy said my name's Johnny
And it might be a sin
But I'll take your bet
And you're gonna regret
'Cause I'm the best there's ever been

The devil opened up his case
And he said I'll start this show
And fire flew from his fingertips
As he rosined up his bow

Then he pulled the bow across the strings
And it made an evil hiss
And a band of demons joined in
And it sounded something like this-"

Garrett was sure of it now. Jack Scratch had visibly paled as Roland played, well, like a demon. The music hissed and mocked, a laughing parody of the same song Scratch had played earlier.

"He's doing it! He's beating the demon!" Kylie grinned.

"Easy, Ky, he's not done yet," Garrett whispered. He hoped she was right, because if Ro lapsed back to his normal playing talent, they were dead. Roland started singing again, the music changing.

"When the devil finished
Johnny said well you're pretty good old son
Just sit right in that chair right there
And let me show you how it's done

He played Fire on the Mountain
Run boys, run
The devil's in the House of the Rising Sun
Chicken in a bread pan picken' out dough
Granny does your dog bite
No child, no"

Roland's fingers practically danced across the strings of his violin, his foot stomping in time to the music.

"Why can't he play like this back at the firehouse?" Eduardo griped.

"Shhh," Kylie shot them both a look. Garrett realized she had moved her head in order to do it, the grip holding them was weakening. He tried to move and found he could turn his head and wiggle his fingers a bit. He could see the others doing the same experiments. "When Roland
finishes, zap Scratch," Kylie ordered. The guys both nodded.

"Then scratch one Scratch," Garrett grinned. Eduardo rolled his eyes at him.

"The devil bowed his head
Because he knew that he'd been beat
And he laid that golden fiddle
On the ground at Johnny's feet

Johnny said, Devil just come on back
If you ever wanna try again
I done told you once you son of a bitch
I'm the best there's ever been

He played Fire on the Mountain
Run boys, run
The devil's in the House of the Rising Sun
Chicken in a bread pan picken' out dough
Granny does your dog bite
No child, no"

Garrett was able to move his arms enough now that he could reach his gun. It was like moving underwater. Roland was almost to the end, replaying the 'Johnny' part again with a vengeance. Garrett began to raise his gun, aiming for Scratch. Eduardo did the same and Kylie pulled out the ghost trap.

 

Roland played the last note with a flourish, lowering the bow. The last note faded away, leaving the room in near tangible silence. "Well?" Roland asked Scratch.

Scratch nervously cleared his throat. "It appears that you are, indeed, a better fiddler than I."

Roland couldn't resist the grin that spread across his face. "Giving the devil his due, eh?" he asked. A part of him wondered where that had come from. He ignored it.

Scratch smiled. "Exactly. I never promised to spare you and your friends lives if you won." He raised his hands, preparing to zap them into oblivion ... or something worse.

"Three!" Garrett shouted behind him. Roland automatically ducked as two proton beams blasted Scratch, encompassing him. Scratch had barely enough time to struggle before the trap's light trapped him and sucked him into its vortex. Scratch had just enough time to scream, however. The sound abruptly stopped with a metallic 'clang!' as the trap shut. The noise was followed by 3 grunts as Kylie, Eduardo and Garrett hit the ground.

"Well, that was fun," Garrett remarked, righting his chair before climbing into it.

"You okay, Roland?" Kylie asked, concern marking her pale face.

"Yeah. I'm fine," Roland assured her. He felt better than fine actually. He felt great!

"How did you do that?!" Eduardo demanded to know, walking up to them.

"Do what?"

"Play like that, man! You've never sounded, well, that good before!"

"Well ... " Roland could feel the presence, that had helped sustained him through the performance, leave, only to appear floating next to him.

"Guys, I'd like to introduce you to Johnny," Roland announced, motioning to the transparent young man next to him.

The other 3 'busters stood between him and the spirit for a moment, as if debating whether or not to bust it. They finally put their blasters down, relaxing a bit when they realized that Johnny wasn't making any sudden or dangerous moves.

"You're the man in the song, aren't you?" Kylie finally asked, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

Johnny nodded, grimacing. "Yep. That's me."

"So, what happened?" Garrett asked, looking puzzled.

"Well, turns out it was a sin ta make a deal with the devil," Johnny sighed with a deep southern drawl. "It was all right while Ah was alive, but once Ah died, Ah was bound to the demon 'til someone else beat Scratch. No one has 'til Roland here."

"And how did you do that?" Eduardo asked again, crossing his arms, scowling.

"Well ... " Roland scratched the back of his head, nervously, "I kinda ... asked for help."

"What?"

"He asked for help," Johnny repeated for Ro. It may have been an optical illusion, but he was looking even less solid than when he first appeared. "The others who took Scratch's challenge thought they could beat him on their own an' couldn't. Roland knew he couldn't an' asked fer help."

"So you possessed him?!" Garrett exclaimed, making a face.

"He didn't possess me," Roland assured him, "He just ... lent me his musical ablities for a bit. There's probably not even a trace of ectoplasmic energy left."

Kylie, right on cue, pulled out her PKE meter. "He's right. Not even a shred of residue." She waved her meter at Johnny, who was less substancial than a moment ago. "You register as a class 4, but with some higher energy spikes, probably from exposure to Scratch." She frowned, a puzzled look on her face. "These readings are starting to diminish ... "

Johnny shrugged. "It's greek ta me."

"You're dissappearing."

Johnny gave her a broad grin. "Well Ah coulda tol' ya that!"

Garrett and Eduardo hid thier snickers before Kylie could glare at them for it.

"It was nice meeting you," Roland said, holding his hand out, "And thanks again for the help."

"'Tweren't nothin'," Johnny assured him, waving him off, "'Sides, it gave me a chance ta fiddle again. 'Bye y'all! And thanks!"

The spirit vanished from sight, just fading out of view in front of their eyes. Roland had the feeling that Johnny hadn't crossed over into the ghost dimension just yet. Unless he missed his guess, Johnny was probably out catching up on all the things he'd missed while stuck with Scratch.

Roland smiled to himself. Hopefully they'd see Johnny again someday, and not on a bust.

"Well, I gotta hand it to ya, bro. You did good back there," Garrett remarked, slapping Ro on the back.

"Can we go home now?" Eduardo asked, yawning. Kylie glared at him.

"Sounds good to me." Roland interjected, before they could start up again. "But I get to choose the music for the ride home."

Garrett and Eduardo traded looks off to his side. "Uh-oh. Get ready for nap time, Eddie." Garrett whispered. Eduardo nodded, his face sullen.

Roland grinned. "And I promise I won't force you to listen to classical, either."

Garrett, Eduardo and Kylie all let out not so hidden sighs of relief.

The sighs were soon replaced by expressions of horror as the Ecto-1 pulled away from the curb.

For some strange reason, Roland felt like listening to some country music on the way home.

 

Fin.