Metal Storm

Come To The Sabbath

    Clothing flew left and right as I dug through my closet trying to find just the right shirt. Seeing a flash of black cotton, I felt a sense of triumph and pulled out my only band shirt and probably the most appropriate attire for the meeting: a Metallica "Ride The Lightning" shirt and the only metal shirt that my parents had allowed me to buy for myself.
    Pulling it on, I paired it with a pair of skinny jeans and boots before grabbing my most prized possession: a sleek, dark purple B.C. Rich Warlock guitar that I had bought with my own money last Christmas and gently placing it in its case which I slung over my back.
With both of my parents out with their friends at the bowling club, I had no choice but to walk to the spot.
And walk I did.
The few people on the street stared at me. I mean, it's not every day you see a girl walking along the street with an electric guitar slung over her shoulder, is it?
The sun had almost set behind the hills, bathing the quaint boulevard and pretty cottages in a dull orange
Glancing at the house numbers, I realized that I was getting close.
587 Barrträd street.
Right on the outskirts of town.
And there it was.
A typical for Sweden low one story house with peeling red paint and a large garage. Judas Priest's latest album could be heard blasting from an open window and an ancient hatchback was parked in the driveway.
Making my way across the overgrown lawn, I hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door.
Hurried footsteps sounded from inside the house and then the door was opened, revealing a lithe, rather short guy about my age with long raven black hair falling past his shoulders, and dark eyes set in a broad face.
    "Who in the fuck are you?" he asked gruffly, narrowing his eyes at me.
    "I'm the girl who called you regarding the poster, remember," I said politely and held up the poster which I had brought with me in front of him.
    "Marlene? Oh yeah. Shit, I'm sorry. I'm Eric," he said holding out a hand.
    I took his hand and shook it, smiling a little and complimented his Black Sabbath shirt along the way.
    Now, I knew Eric. Kind of. He went to my school and was in my grade. He was one of those "bad kids". But he wasn't "bad", really. He was actually quite smart. Everybody just assumed that he was a delinquent based on how he dressed. That's how it was in my school. Want a good reputation? Conform to the norm. If my school had a motto, that would be it. But anyways, back to the story...
    Eric then motioned for me to follow him.
    Stepping into the house, the smell of beer and cigarette smoke hit me straight away like a train of scents that you would smell at one of those shady bars that every parent told their child to stay away from.
    A ratty, old couch stood in the living room behind a worn table cluttered up with empty pop cans and pizza boxes.
    Yep, a typical teenage hangout.
    Eric opened one of the doors and stepped in, me close behind him.
    It was the garage and quite possibly the cleanest place in the entire house.
    Dozens of posters of metal bands plastered the walls nearly making me gawk my eyes out.
An enormous drumset stood in one corner and several guitar amplifiers along with a battered Flying V guitar were scattered about along with a microphone standing right in the middle of the room. A puffy haired brunette girl dressed in baggy jeans and an Evil Dead hoodie was tuning her bass while two guys, both with long hair and bullet belts were sitting down and playing cards on an overturned milk carton.
    None were complete strangers to me. They went to my school and there had been rumours that they worshipped the Devil and that they had spray painted pentagrams in the local cemetery last spring. I'd never spoken to them and I doubted that the rumours were even true to begin with but I still had to admit that they were quite intimidating looking.
All three looked over at me as soon as we walked into what I assumed was the band's rehearsal space.
"This is Marlene. She's the chick who called earlier. She can play guitar...or so she says". Eric said, waving a slender arm towards me. "These are my band mates". He then added, motioning to each person in the room. "Svenn, vocals". Blonde with big hazel eyes. "Ace, drums". Wavy light brown hair and sharp features. "Kristina", bass. The brunette girl.
They all nodded at me, but judging from the scepticism in their gazes, I could see that they  doubted my abilities.
No bullshitting around here.
"What kind of music do you play?" I asked.
"Ah, the heavy shit," Eric said with a grin.
"We call it Satanic thrash metal," Kristina specified. She had a slight Eastern European accent. I wondered if she was one of the many people who had fled from the totalitarian state that the majority of Eastern Europe and Russia was trapped in right now. "Our main influences are Venom, Celtic Frost, Possessed, Sodom, and Slayer"
Cool stuff. Cool fucking stuff.
"Right up my alley," I said.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Play us something," Eric snickered, rolling his eyes, "play fucking Phantom Lord or something. We can chit chat later."
    He was getting a little on my nerves and I had a slight feeling that he felt the same way about me but having the job of babysitting all the local toddlers for a past summer job had taught me a but of patience so I decided not to argue with him and do what I had come here to do in the first place.
    "You can plug in here," Kristina told me, nodding at a large Marshall amp next to the microphone stand.
    Taking out my cord, I reached over and plugged it into the amp before unzipping my case and taking out my guitar.
    I fiddled around with the settings on the amp for a bit until I found a guitar tone that I was satisfied with. A sort of smooth-ish tone somewhat heavy but not too heavy on overdrive and the tone that I usually preferred when playing thrash metal.
    Throwing my hair back, I replayed the Metallica headbanger in my head a few times, the tabs slowly forming in my mind.
    When I was sure that I had most of the song down, I began playing the intro. As Eric's and his bandmates' eyes grew wider, my confidence grew stronger. Diving into the solo, I lost myself in the heavy music. Even though, I had a very small audience and I normally felt nervous playing in front of anyone, I felt like I was playing to a crowd of 100. It was a good feeling too. Exhilarating and adrenaline inducing.
     The song ended almost faster than it had started and the only sound in the room was the sound of the feedback slowly fading away.
    "D-dude, that was awesome!" Eric finally said, breaking the awkward silence that had formed.
    "Wait, seriously?" I asked. I hadn't expected any of them to be too impressed and I was fairly certain that I had missed a few notes here and there but when I searched Eric's eyes for any hints of sarcasm and found none, I realized with a slight shock that he was being genuine.
    Ace, and Svenn both nodded in unison and Kristina flashed me the metal horns and a gap toothed grin.
    "Yeah, it was," Eric said. "I thought that you were just some random groupie when you first walked in but now I think that you may be exactly what we're looking for."