-July 21st, 1987-
"Dammit!"
Eric cursed as he slammed down the phone in frustration.
I winced a little, going over and sitting down at the table beside him, glancing down at the advertisements strewn across the desk.
"Yeah, so it looks like the guys at 'The Veil' are too pussy to host us as well," he said, ripping up one of the papers and chucking it into the trash bin.
"It's almost like they're expecting a Beatles cover band instead of an actual metal act," I said, taking a sip of my soda.
Eric threw his hands up.
"Fucking exactly! This shit's beyond stupid at this point."
I nodded in agreement, handing him the phone number of a lesser known metal venue that we hadn't played at yet but which I had a good feeling about.
We'd played several more shows since that first one in the heart of the metal scene in Stockholm, continuing with our bloody and brutal stage show that had first begun to fuel the flames of our growing fame within the metal underground.
Already, a couple of zines had called us while Eric was at work, practically begging for an interview which Sebastian had refused, stating to them that he wanted our band to remain mysterious. In the shadows. Up to the fans to decide whether we were devil worshiping psychopaths or just a bunch of regular teenagers with a passion for playing extreme music.
I'm sure that his answer gave us as much publicity as a full interview would have had though, with both of those zines publishing a small section on us, calling us one of the most promising recent metal bands and praising our demo as being a brutal and noteworthy rebellion against the blinged out and overproduced glam metal movement in Los Angeles.
It really seemed like the more shows we played, the more people talked about us and the more clubs and venues blacklisted us, too scared of having a pack of mentally crazed metalheads that threw animal parts and sang songs about hailing Satan taint their reputation.
It both terrified us and excited us.
Sebastian often gloated about our newfound fame within the Swedish metal movement, promising us a life of endless alcohol and money and of everything we ever wanted at our fingertips, always a reminder to Eric that he was the one to thank for our infamy. A life of such excesses seems so much more appealing when you're younger...
He was hardly around nowadays for the better or for the worst, almost every few days now he disappeared somewhere, usually not to show up again until the following morning.
Today was one of those days.
He'd left earlier in the morning, whisked away inside a car full of shady looking fellows, probably to some wild, alcohol fueled party in the worst parts of Stockholm.
We were supposed to have a rehearsal later in the evening, so all we could do was hope that he would come back earlier than he usually did.
I looked over at Eric who was still talking to the manager on the phone. His dark hair, once silky and raven black looked greasy and dull, strands of it hanging limply around his face and his sallow skin told of many nights left unslept. The stress had obviously been taking a toll on him, and despite trying to help him out as much as I could, I wished that my work schedule allowed me to help out more with food and to quell the frequent fights between him and Sebastian.
"Okay, we finally have a victory. These guys agreed to have us play on Saturday night," he said, placing the phone back on its stand, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"That's great!" I exclaimed, "I had a good feeling about that place."
Eric nodded tiredly.
"Next time you have a good feeling about a venue or something again, let me know as soon as you fucking can."
"Yep. You can bet on that, unless I forget the name of the venue" I chuckled,
———
July 26th, 1987
Astrid's POV:
Somehow, I was able to convince my parents to allow me to take the train to Stockholm and stay there for the weekend, stating that I was only going to visit Marlene, omitting the fact that I was going to see her show.
She hadn't lied about her place being huge; the place was bigger than most houses in our old neighborhood.
After our brief reunion, Marlene quickly showed me around the house, showing me her new room, now covered floor to ceiling with magazine covers of heavy metal bands and movie posters before we got into Eric's car and began the drive to the venue in which they were scheduled to be playing at.
As Marlene and I chatted about everything and nothing in the back, I could hear Eric speaking to Ace in a worried tone, the Iron Maiden songs on the stereo nearly drowning their conversation out however the music was just turned down enough for my huge ears to hear the worry in his voice as they talked about the concert.
"Oh...Astrid, I forgot to mention one thing," Marlene began as if trying to distract me from whatever Eric was discussing with the drummer in the front.
"Yeah, what?" I inquired, "don't worry I won't pass out this time."
She pursed her lips.
"Uh. Well. You might get hit with a piece of a pig heart, so prepare yourself for that tonight."
I just about choked on my Coke.
"I beg your pardon???"
She sighed, my bulging eyes clearly a familiar sight.
"Yes. It's Sebastian's idea."
"Oh, man...," I groaned, "guess I'll have to go through what I went through at the Haunted House party last year."
Marlene chuckled at the memory of us getting showered with fake blood much to the delight of the boys at our school's Halloween event a few years ago.
"Somewhat. Yes. Just whatever you do, don't go near the front pits."
"Oh you don't even have to tell me," I said, chuckling nervously, remembering the intense mosh pits of headbanging metalheads which I'd missed oh so much.
"Alright, ladies, I think we're here," Eric suddenly said, holding up a paper and looking over his shoulder.
"That's the place, alright," Marlene confirmed, looking out the window at the drab looking building with 'Hammer And Thunder' advertised in front of it in neon lights.
We parked the car in the back and headed into the building, almost immediately met by a haze of marijuana and cigarette smoke.
A middle aged man, pushing his way through the crowd of drunken men and scantily clad young women, exchanged a few words with Eric and then disappeared into the bar area.
"Backstage is this way," Eric said, narrowing his dark eyes threateningly at a small group of spiky haired guys who were eyeing us and whispering amongst each other with drunken lust in their eyes. "Stick close to me."
We quickly followed him down a hallway, past the stage, and into a set of dingy rooms where Svenn and Sebastian were already changing into their stage attire. Fake blood oozed around the bassist's long face, and cuffs with deadly sharp spikes were fixed on his arms and on his black shirt, Baphomet raised her hand in allegiance to Satan.
As soon as Marlene, Svenn and Eric disappeared into one of the rooms with Ace, he sneered at me, licking the blood off his lips.
"Too much for you, darling?"
"Nah," I scoffed.
"We'll see about that," he replied coldly, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"Jeez, who put the stick up your butt?"
"Nobody. I just...can't abide certain types of people. Certain groups. Those that try to hide their weakness behind a mask of bravado. Those that spend their whole life on the stage, so to speak. Those that attempt to take what does not belong to them. Those that take what they have not earned. Also, silly sheep and of course, posers, as the rest would say." he replied with a smirk. "But you're not one of them, now...are you, Astrid?"
I was completely frozen.
"I asked you a question, darling..."
But before anything could escalate further, Eric, Ace, Svenn and Marlene emerged from the rooms. All three were dressed similarly to Sebastian with their death metal shirts, bullet belts, and combat boots but the spikes on their cuffs were shorter than the ones that the bassist wore.
"Yes. Of course I do."
"I hope you guys are getting along," Eric said, glancing at the bassist who rolled his eyes.
"Yeah. It's all good." I replied, feeling that chill of fear run down my back and through my body as his cold voice echoed my mind, drowning out my thoughts...
"Good, cause we're about to go onstage and the last thing we need today is another shitshow," Eric asserted, adjusting the spiked cuffs on his wrists.
"It's almost 7:30!" Ace shouted, appearing with a large garbage bag of something that reeked of rot.
Tossing the bag onto the ground, he jumped back, a look of disgust written on his face.
"Holy mother of Satan. Man the fuck up, It's just some organs and pieces of meat," Sebastian growled, picking up the bag, "let's go."
We began to follow him to the stage area, everyone looking nervous as if they felt like they were all about to walk into a death trap.
I could have sworn that I could feel the tension between the band members hanging heavily in the smoky air.
Eric whispered something to Marlene under his breath and she motioned to me quickly, taking me aside.
"You should probably go and stand over to the side. The crowd...they can get rowdy sometimes. And, of course, the gore..." she said.
"Yeah, sure. I'll do that. Or at least try," I assured her, not quite certain as to why she seemed to be so concerned about my safety today. I'd been to many of her bands shows but never had there been so much tension, nor such a strange and heavy air about them, nor so much concern for my safety.
Given my "encounter" with the four-stringer, I could tell something was wrong. But what...?
YOU ARE READING
Metal Storm
General Fiction17 year old heavy metal nerd and English whiz Marlene Fjörsberg had never thought that her near future would be much different from the university life that her family had already planned out for her but a poster would very quickly change all of tha...
