Chapter 6 – Saturday Satan
Warning: I feel like I should put a warning here, but saying what I want to warn you about would spoil the end of the story...
So just know this: There will be violence in this chapter (hence the T-rating) not explicitly shown, but partly described.
He had looked forward to this concert for months and today he finally saw one of his favourite bands live again. They were great on the long players, but no recording could match their live performance. The atmosphere was as amazing as it ever was. Everyone was drinking beer, banging their heads, raising up the metal horns and loudly singing along to the catchy metal tunes; celebrating the music together. That's what he loved about this kind of music: Amongst total strangers you could let out all your anger at everything that's been going wrong, let out all your pent up energy to music that ran fast and heavy through your whole body. He simply loved live concerts.
Though there were a few things he couldn't quite wrap his head around. For example people like the dude beside him, who simply leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and starring at the band in disgust. He always wondered why such people even bothered to go to concerts.
"I want to annihilate you maggots and you write songs about me and worship me. Talk about Stockholm Syndrome...", he heard the guy mumble in between two songs.
He couldn't help but stare at the other in confusion, which did not go unnoticed as the other soon approached him.
"Why do you like this music? It's horrible and disgusting and so far away from the truth", the other asked, waving one hand about while resting his elbow on the other arm.
"The truth?" He asked in return, trying to drown out the music.
"Silly human. The truth about Satan and all the stuff you make up for your little songs. I AM Lucifer. I should know the truth about myself", the other simply declared, his voice clear and loud, as if the music was muted and flicked the Metalheads nose.
The young man made a step back, looked at the other and smiled slightly, just a Satanist lunatic then.
"Yeah, that's why you look like a truck driver who had too many burgers", he joked.
"Oh, please that is just a vessel. A puny, awful vessel", the other explained and scratched at his cheek that didn't look healthy even in the blinking light that came from the stage.
"If I showed up in my true form I'd immediately kill everyone here and where would be the fun in that?" He asked next, grinning like a maniac.
The Metalhead took another step back from this homicidal lunatic.
"Dude, you- ", he started but was interrupted by a "Oh, come on!", as the crowd started cheering out the word "Satan" like chant.
"– read way too many crappy books", he still finished his sentence, but the other was gone and couldn't hear it.
The young man turned around trying to find him, as the hall suddenly grew silent. The man who had just stood beside him, now stood directly beside the singer on stage. All eyes where on him and the singer politely asked him, what he thought he was doing.
"You rang", he simply stated – his voice not even boosted by the microphone, but still clearly understandable – a sinister grin on his face.
"Buddy, I have to ask you to leave the stage", the singer tried again, but the other only leaned his head to the side a bit and lifted his hand.
As he snapped his fingers a horrible cracking noise could be heard and the singer slumped to the ground. For a moment the hall was even more silent than before, no one dared to move, not even the people on the stage or the security guards.
"Lesson of the day: Don't mock the Devil", the man said into the microphone, took it from the stand and threw it from one hand to the other, simply watching the audience.
"Now who's up for a little slaughter?" He finally said, his eyes gleaming, a wide grin on his face and with this words he broke the spell on the audience.
With this the high windows broke and dark clouds made their way into the hall, descending onto the crowd.
The screams that now ran through the hall were not of joy, but of fright. The people tried running, but some fell and others trampled over them or ran down the ones that tried to help the fallen ones - not all camaraderie forgotten - as everyone wanted to simply get out, but was unable to do so as the doors did not budge.
It only took a moment until everything was silent again. The formerly energetic audience now lay sprawled across each other on the floor. Lucifer wiped a few drops of blood from his face and grinned at the Demons that had either found new vessels or were still floating around as dark clouds.
"Now that was fun", he declared.
Author's Note: Sooo...uhm...Merry Christmas? o.O
There is a Christmas Tree standing in our living room, but the bright sunlight throughout the day and the stuff that happened throughout the year did not really get me into the Christmas spirit. So to get my mind off of things I decided to finish this Chapter, as it is kind of one of my favourites for this series...
Even though I kind of killed one of my favourite bands...
This Chapter had one of those moments, where – as a writer – you only realize what your brain just thought up when it is making its way onto a page. So as soon as I wrote the note down that Lucifer snapped the singers' neck my thoughts went: "Wait, did I just kill Atti? Crap." – Though I might already have had that thought while thinking the story up.
So, I'll add this as an additional Disclaimer: Even though title and inspiration for this Chapter were taken from Powerwolf's Saturday Satan (and I also listened to St. Satans Day, while finishing this) does the portrayed band in no way represent Powerwolf.
They're an amazing band that I definitely do not want to see killed by anyone – I'd be in a lot of trouble from very dear friends if something like that happened because of me – and I recommend them to everyone with an interest in Power Metal. Go check them out! They're not Satanic, they just like toying with religious topics. ;)
And as an afterthought: Lucy is a lot of fun to write. :D
Just to be safe another Disclaimer: The events of this story are in no way related to the tragedy that took place in Paris or meant to mock them. I thought of this story months before they transpired and I simply refuse to not tell a story I personally find fitting for a character because some individuals found it appropriate to invade a sacred place for music lovers for their awful plans. So please refrain from discussing this topic here and focus on the actual story.
