Angels From Helvete 𖤐

𝖔𝖓𝖊

𝕹𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖞-𝖘𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖎𝖓 𝕺𝖘𝖑𝖔 𝖍𝖆𝖘 𝖆𝖑𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖆 𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖔𝖚𝖙𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊

~༒~

     Vinnie Repture was a 20 year old girl growing up mostly alone in the awakened town of Norway. Yes, she was alone most of the time, but enjoyed it that way. She knew she was different from her peers, and she never questioned why.
Her parents and younger sibling always found her odd. They would wonder why she chose to have a hellish lifestyle over a normal loveable one.

She is jobless, friendless, and loveless.
That is Vinnie.

༒

"If you don't get a goddamn job, you're out of this house, you hear? You're lucky we even keep you around now that you're nearly 21!"

"Got it, Dad." Vinnie twirls her thumbs under the dinner table.

Vinnie was use to the arguing between her and her father. Her younger sister and mother remained silent, as they were too scared to interfere. Vinnie's father wasn't a violent man, but he had a temper, and let it out on her. Not like it affected Vinnie anymore.

She was a numb brick ready to fall off the wall.

༒

Meanwhile..

"Where's Euronymous?" Hellhammer asks whilst organizing the records.

"Who knows where that fucker is anymore." Faust chuckles, watching The Evil Dead on his VHS.

"Dude come help me put these back. He's gonna be pissed if we don't have it done by the evening."

"No.. not just yet. This bastard just got his face torn off." Faust says oh so invested with a low menacingly growl. Narrowed eyes and dried lips from dehydration.

The bell hanging above the door of Helvete dings.
Causing Hellhammer to draw his attention there. They weren't even open yet. The open sign wouldn't be put out until Euronymous arrived, because he's the owner. The boss. The leader.

Hellhammer swishing his darkening curly hair back, "We're not open yet."

"I'm aware. I've come for a job application. Door was unlocked anyway."

"Too bad, we ain't hiring." Hellhammer concentrates on the records he handles. Being careful not to fuck them up or else. Metal can be so precious.

"Where's the owner. I know you're not him."

"Says who?"

"Says me." The dark voice from behind the front counter bellows.

Hellhammer turns back, and faces Euronymous leaning over the register with his pale arms revealing from his black tank top with messy words plastered on it. His evil hair dreading down his body sent shivers to anyone who dared to look.

"When'd you get here, man? We were looking for you." Hellhammer winces.

"Well if you had looked harder you would've succeeded." Euronymous smacks his lips giving a dead stare.