This is an Agents of Metal alternative universe story...I wanted to see what would happen if I'd take these characters and put them into a high school setting. When I was writing this first chapter I listened a lot of 'Different Kind of Pain' by Cold and 'Part That's Holding On' by Red just to get into the right mood...
-v- Omen Mortis -v-
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CHAPTER ONE
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dissociation n. (psychology)
an experience of having one's attention and emotions detached from the environment
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Ian was sitting on the passenger's seat. He was in his thoughts, looking at the raindrops travelling down the car window. His father was driving. Ian took notice that now they arrived at the edge of the the small town as they passed the sign.
Welcome to Rock Falls
Population 25,602
It had been a month since they had moved. Another state, another house, another high school. Ian sometimes had the strange thought his family was running away from something...But of course that wasn't the case. It was just that his father's work was like this. The company would give him a new assignment, he would have the exactly same argument with Ian's mother and they would move again. And if Ian was honest with himself, he didn't give a fuck anymore. About anything actually. He just drifted numb, waiting for...he wasn't even sure what.
It was the beginning of his junior year. In the previous schools he had realized blending in would be the easiest strategy. But he actually knew that with some effort he could've excelled in his studies; he had it in him - this ability to learn things easily. At one of his previous schools, during his freshman year, he had made an effort once, but then he had found himself thinking why bother. And then they moved again.
Ian looked at the raindrops and had the strangest thought. They looked like they were shivering, lost in some way. But every now and then two or more would find each other and melt into a larger one, continuing their travel downwards...Perhaps reaching the edge of the window was their death.
Suddenly Ian was startled from his scattered thoughts.
"We're here."
His father had stopped the car at the school's parking lot. Richard Smith was a serious man, a man with a sense of duty and a few words. Again, he exchanged the bare minimum with his son.
Ian got out of the car to the cool October morning and walked across the yard to the school building. It had definitely seen better days, all the surfaces were worn and the general atmosphere was dreary. Ian went to the bland cream colored locker to get the necessary books.
During the first day he had spent at Rock Falls High, Ian had already observed the most typical social structure he had witnessed too many times before. Most of the cliques were present; the geeks, the jocks, the nerds, the emo kids, the skaters, the preps, the hipsters, the rockers and the outsiders. But also there was the faceless mass that didn't belong to any of groups. He was aiming to become part of this and already dressed accordingly; nothing too distinctive in his blue jeans, grey t-shirt and black denim jacket. His hair had grown something that could have interpreted him to be a metalhead though. But he definitely didn't want to connect with anyone. Connecting with people had always proven to be a bad thing in hindsight.
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After school Ian sent his father a text message.
WALKING HOME TODAY
He got the reply OK in just a few seconds.
Their house wasn't that far, walking there would take less than half an hour. Ian's route back home went through the town. As he was walking down the main street he couldn't help thinking this was such small town America. There was the diner, hardware store, the town hall. He could've very well imagined Doc and Marty McFly powering up the DeLorean with a lightning from its clocktower.
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Back at home Ian opened his computer and checked the mails. Nothing.
He looked outside the window. There was a spruce forest. The neighbouring house was behind it but he couldn't see it. The night was already falling.
Like Ian did most evenings, he went to his bed and took something from under it - a guitar case. This was a ritual. He knelt before the case and opened it. Opening the case always released this pleasant smell that was quite a subtle, sweet one - Ian connected it very much with everything he considered good in his life. Playing the guitar that was. The case was lined with red fake fur that was probably the origin of the scent and laying there in its place, was his black battered Charvel. It had followed him everywhere; to the few bigger cities, the Great Plains, Midwest and then to Havenport, a small seaside town on the east coast. Then they had moved to a bigger town on west coast and finally Rock Falls.
He had found the case in a second-hand store in Havenport. Who knew what kind of guitar had originally been kept in it...Ian suspected it had to have been an expensive one, something like a Yngwie Malmsteen Stratocaster. His Charvel looked a little out of place as it didn't match the shape of the original guitar.
Ian plugged the guitar to a pedal and put on his headphones. He always played like this, not wanting to bother his parents who went to sleep much earlier than he did. He could barely imagine what it was play like with a real amp. Or what it was like to play in a band. He just had never wanted to join something like that only to leave it soon.
He plucked some chords. Definitely minor chords. He thought how he hated the October. Then it crossed his mind that he hated his life, basically. Then for a second his thoughts returned to something else, that was also connected to Havenport. Very ironically, her name had been Casey and she had been a extremely painful lesson in the long-distance thing never working. The only good thing in the aftermath had been that Ian had discovered Nargaroth.
The playing was now turning into something quite angry but then suddenly it returned back to plain sadness. He was frowning now thinking would it always be like this. Another question followed.
Had he always been like this?
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