DJ Hood's Backstory

By day, his name was Andy Johnson. He was a reserved young man with dark hair, blue eyes, and good enough grades. He kept his head down and stayed out of everyone's way. Nobody really paid him any mind.

But by night, he was a changed man. He would don his stone-washed jeans and his hooded sweater. The sweater was as black as the sky above him. He would go to a late-night record shop and practise his trade on the turntables; then, on the weekend, he would travel to a warehouse-turned-club just outside of town and spin his tracks under his amazingly popular stage pseudonym, DJ Hood.

Over time, he befriended two other clubbers who also went to his school. One was Josh McCullough, also known as Raven, the stage-crew worker who set up Hood's equipment every weekend. The other was Amanda Benson, who would always be right at the front, waving her hands enticingly, practically drawing the best beats out from Hood's sleeves.

And oh, how much different Hood was from Andy! As the crowd got louder, he would drop more of his inhibitions, putting more advanced techniques into play and moving more and more to the beat until finally Raven would join him onstage and fire off some fast-moving freestyle lyrics, much to the crowd's delight. Then Amanda would clamber up on top of a speaker and move and shake, drawing the crowd's energy the same way she drew Hood's.

But Hood would never put the microphone to his lips. And when they returned to school the next Monday, Josh and Amanda would always do the talking while Andy sat silently, only occasionally interjecting.

One cool autumn night, Hood was waiting in the back alley behind the warehouse with Raven. Raven liked a quick smoke before and after a show, though Hood didn't care for it. The smoke curled curiously over their heads.

In a flash, the smoke exploded outward, surrounding and blinding the two clubbers. When they could finally open their eyes again, they witnessed an incredible sight: a man in a golden cloak grappled with what could only be described as the likeness of Satan himself. It was twice as tall as any of them and had horns as long as the man's legs. The man finally succeeded in dissolving the beast with some sort of holy water, but the damage had been done. The golden cloak was torn and stained with blood. The man was dying.

He beckoned to Hood and Raven. They approached cautiously, still unsure where the demon had gone. The man spoke with a sharp accent. "Which of you talks less?"

Mystified, Hood raised a finger in the air.

"Very well." The man raised his hand and touched Hood's chest.

A burning sensation flew through Hood's limbs into the centre of his body. He lifted his sweater and shirt and saw a mark on his chest.

"So long as you bear that mark, the forces of evil will seek you out," the man murmered. "Beware, for the more you speak, the sooner they will find you." And with those final words, he shimmered, then faded and disappeared.

Hood looked up, his face shadowed away under the protection of his namesake. He spoke only one sentence. "Amanda's not safe."

Raven nodded. "We'll get out of here. I'll do the talking for you, and we'll try to find someone who can fix this thing." And with that, they left, seeking all forms of medical and spiritual help but finding none that could save Hood from his fate.

Now they have traveled to Eagleland, paying their way by playing shows at clubs along the way. Raven is more certain than ever that they are close to finding a cure, since whenever they make an appearance, trouble soon follows them. Meanwhile, Hood dreams silently of the day his curse will break; on that day, he will be go home to Amanda and play for her while she dances.