Euronymous

Chapter Eight

T/W - Mature themes, Alcohol/Drug use, Self Harm

It was loud, but I knew it would get louder. The smell of cigarettes, weed and piss filled the parking lot. Krista and I walked side by side.
She had insisted I doll myself up for Øystein, but I had also insisted this technically wasn't a date. That being said, I obviously wanted to look good.
I had fishnets, a black leather skirt, boots, a black laced tank top and my dark wash denim jacket on.
I took a deep breath in as we walked into the venue. More people. Truthfully, I was a little surprised at the turn out. It was a smaller venue though, so hopefully it wouldn't pack out much more.
"Else!" Hellhammer beckoned me over from the side of the stage. I grabbed Krista by the arm lightly and pulled her over with me.
"Dead needs you." He said, exhaling a puff of smoke, pointing down a hallway. Krista took the cigarette and they began talking.
"I'll wait here." She said, eyeing Jan up and down. He smirked, enjoying the attention.

I walked down the dark hallway toward the room emitting light. I could hear talking, laughter. I was careful of my footing, avoiding cords that snaked all over the gritty floor. As I reached the door, a figure came out.
"Told you you'd come." Øystein's eyes flickered down my body, then up to meet my gaze as he wore a smug smile, beer in one hand, cigarette in the other. His corpse paint wasn't on yet but I got the feeling he was getting into character.
"Yeah, well I didn't want to let Pelle down." I shrugged, hands in my pockets. "He in there?" I nodded toward the door. Euronymous stood tall, gesturing an arm toward the room and stepping to the side, inviting me in.
Inside I saw Necrobutcher, Metalion and Dead. I quickly caught his eye and he grabbed my hand, wordlessly pulling me toward the corner of the room.
"You can do my paint again, please?" He asked, handing me the paint palette. I beamed.
"What an honour." I fanned myself with my hand and he rolled his eyes, smiling. I quickly got to work. They went on stage in 45 minutes, so I didn't have a lot of time.

Dead's eyes glanced into mine every now and then, but his face remained unreadable. Once I was done, he squeezed my hand quickly as a thank you.
Euronymous stood behind me, I looked him up and down as he had done to me earlier. Black jeans, chains, some death metal band's shirt - no surprise.
"Your turn." I motioned to the couch arm that Dead had been sitting on moments ago. He handed me his beer, and I swigged at it as he sat down. He looked up at me, eyes softer than his facial expression was.
We didn't speak, I was too focussed on maintaining a steady breath. I didn't want him knowing how on edge the proximity of him made me. Once again, I found myself having to reposition my body around his, over his leg. Last time, I was in jeans, whereas right now, I was very aware of the slight breeze on my bare legs between the holes in the stockings.
His arms were folded across his chest, but his eyes remained thoughtful as he watched me work.
I drew careful lines down his down with the brush, finishing up. I took a step back and another sip of his beer, admiring my work with a smirk.
"Definitely evil." My eyes widened as I spoke, nodding. A flicker of a smile appeared, but it was gone just as quick. He stood, standing a little taller than me, but not by much.
"15 minutes!" Metalion shouted from somewhere. Euronymous didn't flinch, but I did. He took the bottle from my hand, finishing the last of the beer before setting it back down on the surface behind me, leaning a little closer.
"Thanks." He whispered, so quietly, I almost missed it.
As I left, the band were taking photos. I had the displeasure of witnessing Dead inhaling from a brown paper bag. The unpleasant part was the dead crow inside of it. I knew it was all part of his ritual, so I shrugged it off.
I managed to find Krista in the crowd. She had made friends with a couple of guys, both a little older than us. I'd seen them around occasionally but didn't know who they were, or if they knew anyone I knew.
"This is Emil," Krista placed her hand on the slightly taller one's arm. He had long brown hair, thick bushy eyebrows and deep brown eyes. I knew it was his eyes that had caught her attention more than his other features. "And Aksel." She finished, motioning to the friend. Aksel was taller than I was, shoulder length dirty blonde hair, with green eyes. I smiled politely, greeting them.

I managed to get another drink before the show started. The lights were low, beaming in every direction slowly, then fast. Combined with the herd of screaming fans, the guitars, it was an entrancing atmosphere.
Euronymous had stalked on stage confidently, guitar strapped around him. I kept it cool, despite the excitement I felt. His eyes scanned the crowd, and I swore once he found mine, he stopped. The music started and I watched him play flawlessly. His fingers traced the guitar strings with precision and expertise. His face remained stoic, but his hair flowed and moved in a way that was mesmerising. His eyes stood out like icy pools, glowing in the dead of night amongst the paint.
Aksel nudged me a couple of times, leaning down to whisper something in my ear. Truthfully, I just nodded along, but my focus was captured by the band on stage.
A few songs in, the crowd is getting rowdier and hungrier for more. There was actually an excellent turnout of people. I was impressed.
The next song began, when all of a sudden, Dead grabbed a knife from somewhere on the stage. He raised his arm, slicing deep into his skin, causing a thunderous roar from the crowd. I stood in shock, watching Pelle's arm spray blood onto the stage and the people in the front row.
Before I could fully comprehend what I was seeing, he'd done the same thing to his other arm. The room erupted in more chaos but my hearing went a little muffled and I started to hear the blood rushing in my ears. I looked at Øystein. His expression remained the same - like stone, but his wide eyes flashed genuine surprise.
I quickly turned away, following Krista and the boys back to the bar.
"Fuck, that's intense." Krista muttered. I just nodded, taking in a deep breath. She took my hand and squeezed it reassuringly, offering a small smile.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Aksel. "Want something to take the edge off?" He asked, pulling a small tin out of his pocket. I shrugged, until he opened it. The scent of weed hit me immediately.
Fuck it, why not? I nodded. He picked up the joint, placing it between my lips delicately. I noticed him pull a lighter from his pocket and flipped my hair to one side to get it out of the way as he lit it. I inhaled deeply, the burning feeling enveloping my chest.
As I pass the joint to him, I breathe out and look back to the stage. Øystein's gaze was locked in on me, his eyes dark.
We stayed for another song, but I avoided looking toward the stage.
Aksel seemed to notice how uncomfortable I was and touched my arm lightly, cocking his head toward the exit. I nodded and followed. I needed the air.
We sat for a while, waiting for Krista and Emil to come outside. We made small talk, but he was reserved, as was I. He handed me another joint he'd lit and I took it, eagerly welcoming the numb buzzing it brought to my brain.