The Devil walks into a village at night in the guise of a wandering minstrel. There is nothing remarkable about the stranger. The beasts do not frenzy and the birds do not flee as he settles his baggage down by the village square, sits on a particularly hefty bag and draws a violin from a battered black case.
He begins to play.
As the people of the village hear the keening melody in the confusion of his notes, they begin to dance with reckless abandon. When the Devil rises from his seat and takes to the mountain paths, the dancing villagers follow his music to the heights, lost in revelry. They dance, and they dance till they are weary and their feet bleed and they can dance no more, and yet they dance to his violin for they cannot stop.
As the Devil plays under a serpent moon, the village dances till it dies.