Stay With Me

32

The weeks that passed felt like an eternity. Hours felt like day, days felt like months, the slowness of it all was maddening. Rehearsals took place just like before in the garage, each session lasting longer than the last in an attempt to get their songs right the first time. The songs felt heavier, darker, almost as if written by some condemned creature stuck in a hellish afterlife. There was no mistake that something had changed in their sound. Anyone who listened to them before could feel the sudden change, but all welcomed it with open arms. The brutality of Dead's screams, the rawness of the instruments, all fueling the flame of their growing fame. Despite those in the underground community spreading the music of Mayhem around, it still wasn't enough to push them higher up the chain.

"I'm going for a walk," stated Dead coldly as he entered the kitchen.

Euronymous waved him off. "Just make sure you're back before we start up again. We're missing something crucial and we need to figure it out soon."

"Yeah. I know."

No beast has sharper claws than a Norwegian winter, and dead was promptly reminded of this upon stepping out into the blizzard. The November wind raking across his skin along with the razor like snow, was a sensation all too familiar to him. No, he didn't care about the pain at all anymore. He welcomed every bit of torment he received like an old friend. His knife, securely tucked away in his pocket, stayed close to him at all times now. If he were to take off his jacket he would reveal every gash and soon to be scar across his arms.

His body was heavy yet weightless all at once. His mind, though focused on the blinding wall of snow mere inches from his face, felt as though it were outside his body; as if he wasn't in control of his own actions anymore. The feeling was becoming as familiar as the deafening scream of the wind. Numbness constantly consumed his entire being until reality seemed like a dream, he didn't care whether it was the cold or not. His feet moved freely without having to be told where to lead him or how fast to go, and while his eyes were focused on finding a path ahead of him, it seemed as though he were no longer in his body at all.

His senses heightened, but decreased at the same time. While he had become all too aware of his own heartbeat to the point where he thought he could feel the blood move through his veins, the rest of him felt heavy, ready to collapse without any warning.

Let me die....

His silent plea is the same as days before. Begging for a death that everyone refused to give him. Nothing would have made him happier than the sweet release of the life around him, nothing but her at least. Necro had tried his best to encourage him every chance he got, trying his best to give him praise like Vanessa had done, but it wasn't the same. Ever since she had gone, the dreams he once had of her had returned. Every day he found it harder to want to wake up.

"Pelle."

His eyes shut tight, trying to force the voice out of his mind. It was already unbearable to see her in his dreams, but to hear her even when he was awake was enough to drive him insane.

Not like that's hard to do.

Scoffing at his own stupid joke Dead picked up his pace, making his way to the small graveyard.

"Pelle, please."

"Stop!" he screamed. "Sop fucking tormenting me and just come back! Please! Please...I can't do this."

It came as no surprise when no one answered his desperate pleas. Reaching into his jacket pocket Dead pulled out a brand new knife. No one knew about it, not even Euronymous and the two of them had been in the same building when he bought it. It probably helped that the guitarist was too distracted by the stack of records. There was no denying that he hadn't kept his promise to not hurt himself. Every moment he had alone was one where a fresh scar was made and played off as just another injury from falling on one of his many walks.