The same year – the year he was nine – Varg Vikernes and assorted members of Mayhem, Emperor, and the black metal movement began their rampant church-burning. At such a tender age, Toki wasn't sure whether to abhor or idolize these acts. They went against everything his parents stood for, a fact that in itself was tantalizing enough to capture his attention. The music itself was beyond him: he was too young to buy it on his own, and he would have had nowhere to listen to it even if he could have obtained it. Helvete in Olso, the movement's main meeting ground, was far beyond his reach.
Even though he hadn't heard the music, this violent subculture captivated the imagination of the young man. Dual talk of Devil-worship and a return to the old Norse gods was a seductive concept for such a young boy, raised in such a strict Christian household. His interest was piqued.
The next year Varg killed Euronymous and suddenly black metal hit the news stands: lurid headlines were plastered all over the tabloids. Not that his parents read such "filth," but he could browse the covers while in Lillehammer and catch some of the talk. He learned more than he could have ever hoped for by doing exactly what his parents had always wanted: being quiet and staying out of the way. As long as he didn't bring attention to himself the adults talked on, and he heard plenty of gossip surrounding black metal, which was rumored to be populated by worshipers of Satan whose main goal was destruction.
As little as Toki cared about the more serious aspects of this so-called movement, the idea of destruction appealed to him. The older he got the more intriguing it became. When outside playing on his own, Toki built a church-shaped structure out of twigs and then lit it on fire using a pilfered lighter. He tried to imagine what it must have felt like to do it to a real building, where the flames would jump over his head instead of flickering down at his knees.
This became a new game for him: he would build small structures and then destroy them; either with flame, or by crushing them beneath his feet. Toki found increasingly amusing ways to demolish his creations, and it seemed as if he would get away with this minor act of rebellion without anyone finding him out. However, he'd never had that much luck.
It was a cold evening when the Reverend found him. Toki had created an elaborate stave church replica – at least, as elaborate as he could manage with limited building materials – and had set about trying to light it on fire. The day was damp and the wood refused to catch quickly. This made Toki nervous, as his lighter only had a small amount of fluid left at the bottom. He shook it, flicking the wheel over and over with his thumb.
The boy was startled from his crouching position by a commanding "ahem." He wobbled a little and then fell forward, landing with one knee in the middle of the mini church. A hand come down and fisted around the one he'd been holding the lighter with. Toki made a soft sound of dismay as he was yanked to his feet.
The Reverend jerked his pants down with one hand, bending Toki as he brought a flat palm against his bare ass cheek over and over. By the time the Reverend was finished he was left alone with a red behind, tears streaming down his face, and no lighter.
His only method of retribution was to finish crushing the mini church, kicking dirt and debris over it when he was done.
