The morning mist was curling like a snake over the unnatural lands that stretched so far, they were called a country of their own. Softly, stroking the vegetation that had birthed through the soil belonging to the most powerful sorce mankind could ever manage to create. Some, like the thick, green bushes were formed in a beauty their masters could understand. Kissing the astonishing dragons of the earthly plants, the mist krept by the garden art. The entire landscape was tamed by it's owners to suit their taste. There was nothing natural about the land that had been named "Mordland". It belonged to the lords of Mordhaus, a fortress that was rooted deeply into the land and rised high above it. The gardens where guarded by man and animal alike as the masked guards patrolled on their duties and as the yard wolves hunger drove them to slaughter any intruder that came in their way. The very soil of Mordland screamed of death and blood that it had drunken in for so many years. There was barely nothing else than death reaking from the soul of the land, it was a graveyard of allies and enemies alike. But now there was more than that, tension and fear. It was no longer in the power of the controlling hands that usually kept it safe. Without the tight grip around this place, it was vulnerable and would fail to protect its inhabitants. And now, it had already been maimed from it's original mega structure and was still bleeding from wounds. The rebuilding had gone on for about three days, yet the extraordinary fast progress had still tons of work left before the stronghold could be less vulnerable.
The mist's moist was chilling on the exposed skin of an almost invisible body. The sleek silhouette was hidden beneath the ghost of a cloud that concealed everything. In fact, it was hard to judge whether there was anything else than the blanket of fog that swept around everything.
Her feline features didn't only contribute to her beauty, she was also an excellent hunter. Soundless, disciplined and highly lethal. She had proven that she was a woman to fear. Her organized mind was the host of great intelligence, and a burning obsession. Both were like poisonous weapons she gladly would use. For she was determined not to let anything stand in her way of getting what she wanted. Physical pain did not bother her at all, not for the time being at least. A hard blow to the back of her head had left her with a horrific head ache. Luckily, her thick mane of raven hair had prohibited any glass from piercing the skin. She had been hit by a bottle, so hard that it had shattered along with her consciousness. She had regained it at the same place as she had lost it, on the very top of Mordhaus. She had assassinated some of the masked workers known as "Klokateers" in order to get away from there before she would be cornered on the roof. Not that her hands were stained with blood bothered her. Her innocence had already died. She was a ruthless killer, like an amazon. With her devastating beauty and the hands of a killer, she was an excellent harvester of lives. Mordland was a harsh land, but very big and filled with good hide outs for the experts of invisibility. Lavona was one of them. Her prize was waiting inside of the gigantic fortress. She could wait, but she knew that she would claim her prize very soon. A cat like grin spread across her face. She knew how to get in, but she would be needing to stay in. But her observations of the lords of metal was telling her that there was something she could take advantage of. Yes, a cruel plan was metamorphosing in her mind. She would spy for the whole day, using all her skills of her mind and the agility and strength of her body. Very soon, she would have what she and her henchmen (women sharing the same obsession) were so desperate to have. She knew that some of them had died, if not all. But she didn't care at all. Very soon...
Mordhaus was almost crushed that night, but had survived with crucial injuries. During the following days, a massive reconstruction was evolving the fortress from its broken form to the proud thing it once had been. Only now, it was to be even better. For even though the leaders of the dreaded Revengencers had fallen, there was always someone to fear. No, an incident like that was to never, ever happen again. Therefore, Mordhaus was not only healing from its wounds, but also growing stronger by the minute.
But inside this growing protector, the five of which was protected were feeling horribly insecure. For always had there been someone watching their back for dangers they simply did not now about, but now...
They had managed to get their manager to some hospital, and had ordered the best doctors of the world to safe his life. For almost twenty four hours it had not been clear if the manager would survive through his horrible injuries. They had waited. But when the word they recieved was that Ofdensen would recover, but was for the time being in a deep coma, he was transferred to Mordhaus' rebuilt hospital wing. Under the surveillance of experts, the musicians were scuffed out of the room feeling utterly helpless. There was nothing for them to do to help their guardian. They sat in their recreation room, unable to figure out what they were supposed to do. That was usually Ofdensen's job. They wouldn't admit it, but they were scared. They had agree not to leave Mordhaus for the possible dangers that lurked outside. They were prisoners in their own fortress. No one really wanted to leave, accept for sometimes. Murderface was probably suffering the hardest from their grounding. The woman he had saved during had been released from the hospital, unharmed, a couple of days earlier and desperately wanted to see her. She had called him, her voice dripping for admiration towards her hero, on a daily basis. He enjoyed talking to her, but wanted to see her as well. She had wanted to go to Mordhaus, but the danger around the grounds that might still be there had forced him to tell her no. Her disappointment was deep, but she kept waiting. Right now, the bassist sat in the sofa, his mind far away. The responsibility he had had during that horrible night had changed him, into someone stronger. He no longer wallowed in self-hatred. He felt a purpose far greater than his part in the band. He was alive, something the world wanted him to be. Pickles sat in the hot tub staring into the water, observing its ripples dancing across the surface and the white bubbles underneath it. He had layed off the alcohol for some time, but was now starting to pick it up once more. But he was not longer drunk beyond stupidity, just buzzed. With him sat Nathan, drinking from a bottle of wine. He too, had been taking it easy on the alcohol. He was tired and was not that far from falling asleep in the warm comfort provided by the water.
Skwisgaar was standing facing one of the new windows, observing the activities that were performed in the grounds. He was currently not playing on his Gibson, but it would not be long until he started again. He could barely stand one minute without his fingers getting hopelessly restless. He saw the carcass of a yard wolf being towed away by some Klokateers, before they became savagely attacked by the remaining pack. The animals were blind for what they ate. It would not be the first time they resorted to cannibalism. At least they had some man meat now too. He sighed out of boredom and sat next to Toki in the sofa. Toki followed his moves with curious eyes. He too, was bored. With nothing else to do, he analyzed the fingers of the faster guitarrist as they flew over the singing Gibson. Skwisgaar practiced almost all of the time, whilst Toki only practiced during...well band practice. But still, the youngest band member managed to be the second fastest guitarrist in the world. A sudden revelation hit him as he figured out if he were to practise as much as his fellow guitarrist, he might just be even faster. He let out a quiet laugh as he imagined Skwisgaar's face if he was to succeed. The Swede noticed and shot him one of his glares, showing how much he thought of himself being somewhat of a god.
"Whats yous laughinks at?" He questioned. Toki grinned whilst turning to face the Swede.
"Oh, nothinks."
"I just saws yous laughs at somethings!Whats?" Skwisgaar impatiently started playing faster. He didn't want the Norwegian laughing at him, so if he would Skwisgaar would do something about it.
"I's just saids: nothinks!" Toki answering in the most nonchalant way he could, trying to mimic someone particular. He held his head high in a caricature of how Skwisgaar usually did when he spoke (to Toki).
"Stops beings so arrowsgents! Yous acting likes a total dildos!" Skwisgaar half yelled in irritation.
Toki could not hold himself and laughed out loud, neither could Nathan and Pickles. The frustration grew in Skwisgaar. He didn't get what was so funny.
"Whats?!" he snarled to everyone in the room. Even Murderface was grinning at whatever it was. He desperately tried to look intimidating as he glared at each band member. Confused he asked again what was so "hilartsious".
"Why dont'cha jest ask Toki, whet's so funnee?" Pickles chuckled, spitting out some of his drink.
Skwisgaar turned to Toki, who tried to put a straight face on.
"Wells?!"
Toki restrained further laughter and straightened, head held high.
"Pfft, justs de facts dat I's so much betters guitar players than yous!" he answered in the most Skwisgaarish way anyone but the Swede himself could provide. Than he burst into laughter once more. A soon as Skwisgaar realized what had just happened, he threw his guitar away, in order to attack the annoying Norwegian causing his ridicule. They fell out of the sofa, still fighting, as the others watched entertained. The boredom and uneasy mood was for the time being forgotten as the Scandinavians rolled around on the floor getting more and more violent in their fighting. At first it seemed more playful, even though Skwisgaar was pissed off, but now he seemed even more aggravated. That didn't give anyone motivation to stop the fight however. They cheered them on so that the fight would continue further. Until Skwisgaar let out an angry screech.
"Yous sons of a bitch! Looks whats yous dids!" he growled at the very upset guitarist. His nose was dripping blood from a nosebleed that resembled a waterfall.
"I's so sorries, Skwisgaar! Please, forgiveses me! I' didnts means to, I's makes it ups to yous some ways! I's sorries!!!" Toki's icy blue eyes were very remorseful as he begged for forgiveness. However, it didn't seem as if the lead had no intention doing so. He shot angry glares at his fellow guitarist while covering his bleeding nose at best effort.
"Fucks yous!"
He left to do something about his pouring blood and clean himself up. Toki stared after him and seemed to want to follow him. He was really sorry.
"Don't worry, Toki. Nice punch though..." Nathan growled, sneering. Toki didn't look amused. But, he kept his worries in silence and focused on something else. He didn't want for the rest of the band members to think of him as non-brutal. He swept his eyes across the room, discovering someone was missing.
"Wheres is Murderface?" he asked to whoever would answer. Surprisingly, it was Pickles who informed him.
"He gotta phone call. Pro'lly from that chic he saved." he answered casually. It was unusual for the usually very intoxicated drummer to be so analytic of his surroundings, but he had drunken less lately. So he was...well, not as drunk as he used to, but still drunk.
Nathan grunted in agreement.
"Huh. Never would've guessed that Murderface would have a...uh...girlfriend or whatever. And a hot one too! I mean, that shouldn't be possible..."
Nathan seemed to think very hard about this.
"Well, he did save 'er frum the fire. So it's this...uh... hero thingy that he wus tahkin' about earlier. But yeah, she was hawt..." Pickles nodded in agreement.
"Guess you're right...huh..."
Nathan drank from his bottle of wine thirstily.
"Why do you still look so god damned miserable?!" he suddenly growled at Toki.
"I's not miserasbles!" Toki angrily retorted, but he wasn't the most skillful liar.
"Yeah, you are!" Nathan confronted. Toki was noticeably starting to get angered or stressed, or both. This entertained both Nathan and Pickles.
"Noes!"
"Toki, you clearly are." Pickles grinned and then added for the full effect: "You act as if yur in lahve weth 'im or sumthin!" he said and laughed rather sheepishly.
"NOES! I's doesn'ts nots lovingks him!" Toki roared, face turning red by embarrassment and anger.
"Aha! Double negateve, it means ya lahve 'im!" Pickles triumphed.
"I's am donts!" Toki spat. His English became worse the more upset he was. He angrily marched out of the room to his own, leaving the others laughing. After some time, they didn't really remember that much of the humiliation of Toki and sat quiet for a while. Then Pickles broke the silence.
"D'ya think Murdeface is gonna get laid with that ladee?" he asked thoughtfully.
"Uh...huh. That was actually an interesting question. I don't know, honestly..." Nathan replied.
"Ya wanna bet?"
Toki tiredly sat down on his bed. He didn't mean to harm Skwisgaar, it was an accident. And it was not his fault that Nathan and Pickles were such assholes about it all. He felt his face turn red again as he thought of the how they had been able to make him so upset, and what they had said. He could easily have told them that he idolized Skwisgaar above everything else. How he saw him as a demigod trapped on Earth and how he admired him (even though he easily got on Toki's nerves). But that idea was not particularly appealing either.
He sighed and lay down on the soft mattress, Deddy tightly held to his chest.
Every word uttered in Mordhaus was a leaf in a thorned maze. The labyrinth had no end and no beginning, but was filled with traps and shortcuts. By making the right decisions, he could find a beautiful sanctuary were all the roses of the thorned bushes were. He could rest and enjoy his visit there, but soon he must choose again. If he failed to do so, it could have unpleasant surprises. He had only experienced minors of those, but he actually paid attention on where he stepped in the labyrinth of words. He would spend his life as a prisoner in the thorned maze, for he didn't expect finding his way out. He could only hope to once more smell the arousing aroma of those roses and see their beautiful petals form the royalty of all flowers. Roses...roses...
Toki shut his eyes, resting a bit. He didn't count on falling asleep, but he did it anyway. He dreamed about many things, but mostly his beautiful roses.
The day passed quickly, and soon the soft darkness came sweeping its silky shades over everything. The blood red glowing orb that was the sun disappeared under the darkness, as if covering itself with a blanket to sleep through the night. The four members who wasn't sleeping were killing the evening time in the massive dining room, eating the wonderful French toast...
It really did taste amazing.
They discussed a great matter of things of lower significance, that very often didn't really make any sense. But still, the conversation was flowing as it leaped from one topic to another. For the moment there was a vivid argument about horses. Where the creatures gay or brutal?
"I dunno, I mean horses are...uh... y'know? With ahl the spahrklin an' lil' gurls... an' cowboys.... I'd sey that's pretty gay..." Pickles stated, waiting for someone making him think otherwise.
"Yeah, but a horse can easily kick your fucking head off! Have you seen a pissed off horse?! It's brutal! They just run like crazy and attack everything, biting, kicking and crushing...I saw a horse fucking up a car trying to kill the people inside on this video!" Nathan countered matter-of-factly.
"That's troo..."
"During the middle agesch, they usched horses to rip people apart by tying their legsch and armsch to a different horsche. Than they made each horsche run in a different direcschun. In Aschia, I think it wasch..." Murderface informed, seeming very certain about his enlightenments.
"Wow, that's really brutal..."
"Yeah, I gotta edmit, that is broodal.
"I's has seens a horse crush a guy againsts a walls ins Sweden. Theres was bloods everywheres ands guts ands brains. Dat horse reallies wantsed to kills dat guys." Skwisgaar poked in, feeling as if he wasn't paying an important enough role in the conversation.
"Really?"
"Ja."
It seemed as if the debate was nearing a conclusion.
"Horses are brutal. They are metal." Nathan confirmed. His emerald glare challenged everyone to beg the differ. When no one seemed to show any form of disagreement, he leaned back pleased over how he had won the discussion. Or something.
"Do wes has horses heres? At Mordhaus and Mordland?"
There was once more silence. Their grounds leaped far over a great deal of land, so it was very possible for them being the homes of a very large amount of animals. But none did recall ever transferring any horses to the area on purpose.
"Uh...no I ahkshelly don't think so..." Pickles said thoughtfully. "I mean, if we had eny, we shud 'ave known, right? With stables 'n shit...?"
"Then we should ask Ofdensen to get the most metal horses on the planet when he wakes up!" came the triumphant roar of the big, raven haired man.
"If he doesch..."
The unpleasantness of the possible outcome brought a chill through the room. They knew not what to do if that was to happen.
"De doctors saids dat he ams mights make its. I's thinks so too."
Skwisgaar still elegantly let his fingers dance as they teased the strings of his guitar. But he was honest, and a bit worried.
"Yeah, they did patsch him up good. It'sch juscht the coma that schtopping him from being in charge again."
"That's true."
Pickles seemed to be deep into his thoughts, or at least tried to look as if he was.
"Wundr how meny died that neyt..."
"A lot of people, Picklesch." Murderface gave him an observing stare as he answered.
"Bu sum were saved, right? Like yer ladee frend..." Pickles sneered. Nathan caught up with what was going to be brought up the next.
"Yeah, the one you've been talking to." he snickered.
"What about her?"
"Dont'cha think she's a bit turned on becus'ov that hero thing?"
Murderface twitched as both Nathan and Pickles seemed to find this amusing.
"I did schave her life along with a lot of other people'sch! But you aschholesch apparently don't get that!" Murderface snorted angrily over his band mates behavior.
"Yeah, but she's special, ain't she?"
"Oh for the love of God, shut the fuck up! Why don't you go get a life of your own, some of us already have!"
With that, the bassist left the dining room. But just as he had left, his phone was heard ringing.
A biting sensation seemed to chew from within his skull, forcing him to withdraw from the comfort of slumber. To his surprise, the day had escaped during his rest and Toki realized that he must have fallen asleep. The room was darker and wore a bluish shade over it. The only light came from what was left of it outside. His eyes adjusted quickly to the more nocturnal environment as he rose from the bed to scavenge for some pain killers. After fumbling a while he managed to open the container of his pills and swallowed them. He hated how they made his mouth dry and sometimes felt like they were stuck in his throat, but they were very effective. After a couple of minutes or so he wouldn't remember that he had a head ache. Not really knowing what to do, he sat down on his bed again searched his room for something to do. He didn't feel like joining the others, especially not if Skwisgaar was with them. He wanted to apologize, but the Swede's vanity was well known. What if his nose was broken? That seemed impossible for Toki had only collided with him, head first. But still...
He was still rather drowsy and didn't want to do anything that craved that much of an effort. He was about to give up and try to go to sleep again as he saw a neat black pen lying on the floor. He could always draw something entertaining and without greater effort. Toki got off the bed once more and picked up the pen and examined it. From the looks of it, it was no formal ink pen but a pen used for art. He recalled using something similar once on the details of a model plane, it was likely the same pen. With it, a blank piece of paper and a book for a tray he made himself comfortable in a relaxed sitting position.
With an uncertain hand, he stroked the white leaf and left a black trail. The pen was really good and easy to work with. He started sketching different characters and objects lazily. He drew Deddybear as a viking and smiled at the outcome. He then drew some stick figures resembling his band mates bowing for the mighty Deddy. He started drawing himself as a king, with Dethklok kissing the ground he stepped on. It made him laugh. Drawing was brutal! They were throwing roses for him. But Toki discovered it to be hard drawing roses. He therefore filled the entire sheet with them until he was surprised over the skills he had gained. He than took a new sheet and carefully started letting his most perfect rose grow. It was hard, but than he actually managed adding shades and depth to it.
"Wowee, I's goods!" he announced, admiring his work. But it was something missing in the picture making it look empty. The rose was rather small. Toki frowned a bit over this trying to think of how it could improve. Suddenly there was a change. Toki listened, and heard footsteps outside his bedroom. He hid the drawings behind him and listened more carefully. There was a loud thump and a surprised/irritated grunt as the provider of those footsteps hit the ground. A series of Swedish curses floated seconds after that. Without any doubt, Toki left his room for the long corridor outside it.
"Skwisgaar? Yous OK?" he asked and forced himself to not show any of his amusement.
"Ja, buts de fucksing floors tripsed me!" he said pointing accusingly and pointlessly on the floor. He got back to his feet, rejecting Toki's offer to help him up. He turned to keep on going but Toki caught his attention.
"Skwisgaar?"
"Whats?" he asked, turning to face Toki with a tired expression.
"I's just, um, sorries for giving you da blows... I means nosebleeds. I's didn'ts means to..."
Toki felt utterly stupid, but he did hope his friend would understand his problems with the English language. Skwisgaar sneered.
"Pfft... yous cants helps dat yous are all clumsys." he grinned.
"Yous just faceplantsed da floor!" Toki argued.
Skwisgaar sighed theatrically.
"Toki... I's tolds yous. Da floors tripsed me."
But Skwisgaar's tone wasn't arrogant, but rather friendly. Toki smiled over the rare moment he was Skwisgaar's friend. The Swede didn't really used to show his nicer side. He turned and kept on walking as Toki returned to his room. The first thing he noticed was his unfinished drawing. He really felt like doing something about it before hanging out with the others.
The warm river of flowing blood streamed from her masked victim as she coldly slit his throat without him even knowing what had happened. She pushed his body to fall from the thin balcony. She carefully cleansed the elegant, yet lethal knife from his blood. She didn't like the stain of unimportant blood to befoul her blade. None of her weapons were to be treated like dirt. No, they took care of dirt and worthless scum. She had always liked classic weapons that required skill and a warrior spirit, which she possessed. Lavona was a master of many dangerous skills. Her entire body was a weapon. She hid the knife and moved along the wall like a shadow. The darkness helped her conceal herself even further. She aimed for a window not that far from where she was standing and sneaked up to it. She sneered as she discovered it being open. She listened for any signs of the room behind it being occupied. Carefully, she dared to look into it. It was a bedroom, but its owner didn't seem to be in it. From the scarce light, she had to concentrate to analyze its contents. She decided to try her luck and forced the window to open enough for her to creep inside. Without a sound, she had infiltrated Mordhaus. The room was decorated with delicate and well built model airplanes. She recognized one of them as a SAAB 39 Gripen. Lavona knew whose room this was. It was the youngest band member's. The Wartooth kid... With access to his room, her plan would work even better! She gave the room a quick glance before she spotted something underneath the pillow, as if to be hidden temporarily. She picked the paper sheet up and examined it. Lavona understood that this was not any ordinary piece of paper. She decided it was worth analyzing further and lit her flashlight to get a closer look. The halogen light blinded her at first and made he turn away slightly. When her eyes had adjusted to the bright light she stared at the drawing she held. A triumphant smile expressed her feeling of have prevailed. She laughed very quietly as she stroke the picture resembling a certain guitarist holding a carefully drawn rose.