Shadows of Helvete

Chapter 10

The morning light filtered through the cracked window of the small room Emilie now called her temporary home. She had barely slept, her mind whirling with everything that had happened over the past few days. The cold terror of the park, the confrontation with Euronymous, and now, the reality that she was back in his world. She stared up at the ceiling, unsure of what the day would bring but knowing that she couldn't afford to leave just yet.

I need a job, she thought, her breath fogging in the cold air of the back room. I need a place to stay.

She couldn't avoid the inevitable. Euronymous had offered her a job at Helvete—and while the idea of working for him made her stomach churn, she had no other options.

With a sigh, she got up from the makeshift bed and pulled on her clothes, bracing herself for the awkward conversation ahead. She found Euronymous sitting in the front of the store, behind the counter, flipping through a stack of vinyl records. His face was calm and focused, as if the chaos of the night before hadn't even touched him.

"Morning," he said without looking up.

"Morning," Emilie mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Euronymous paused, glancing at her. "You look like shit."

"Thanks," she replied, her tone flat. "So do you."

He smirked, tossing the record onto the counter. "What's your plan, then? You staying?"

Emilie hesitated, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'll stay. For now," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I'll take the job."

Euronymous nodded as if he had expected nothing less. "Good. There's a lot to do. The store's busy, the label's picking up, and I could use someone who can handle themselves."

"I'll work hard," Emilie said, her tone soft but determined. "But... I want to make one thing clear. This isn't permanent. I'm only here until I can get back on my feet."

He raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. "Whatever you say."

The day passed in a blur of work. Emilie threw herself into organizing the shelves, cataloging records, and handling the customers who came through the door. Most of them were young, grim-faced men, dressed in black leather and band shirts, their eyes sharp with judgment. Many of them were part of Euronymous's growing inner circle—the so-called "Black Circle"—a group of extreme metalheads who seemed to hang on his every word.

By midday, Emilie found herself behind the counter, sorting through the latest batch of records that had come in. Euronymous had disappeared into the back room, leaving her to manage the store alone.

As she worked, a group of familiar faces walked in. Hellhammer, Metalion, Fenriz, Faust, Occultus—names she hadn't heard in what felt like a lifetime. They were all part of the old scene, the people who had been around when Pelle was still alive.

"Emilie?" Hellhammer's voice cut through the air, disbelief lacing his tone. "Is that really you?"

She looked up, her heart skipping a beat. "Yeah... it's me."

There was a brief silence before Metalion stepped forward, grinning. "Holy shit, you're back! Where the hell have you been?"

"Around," she muttered, trying to play it off as casually as she could. "Just... dealing with things."

Faust gave her a once-over, his sharp eyes narrowing. "The thing with Pelle... must've been tough for you."

Emilie swallowed hard, the weight of their words pressing down on her. "Yeah. It was."