Burn down the alters.
Fire up the engines.
That's the last lie out of you.
Blake's screams filled the large room, the audience watching the band, completely captivated.
"Alright, that was 'Sin'" Blake said, taking a drink of water. "We wanna thank you for coming tonight. We hope that you remember us fondly as you nurse your hangovers tomorrow."
The line got a chuckle from the men still sober enough to know what was happening.
"I guess since we're at the end of our show, now would be a good time to introduce the band."
"On lead guitar, Herald Stevenson."
"On bass, Derrick Luke."
"On drums, Paul Ashton."
"And on the keys, Theo Blancha."
"I am Blake Thompson, and together, we are 'Silent Icarus'"
"We've got one more song for you tonight," Blake continued, finishing off his water bottle and moving onto another. "And its a doozy. Its called 'Deicide', and we hope you enjoy it."
The band started playing, and thirty seconds in, their was a scream, but not from Blake. From outside the bars doors. Quickly after, a large, muscular man, the bouncer, came rushing inside, holding his neck as it poured blood.
"Cool it guys," Blake said into the mic as he saw it. The man was staggering back and forth, barely staying up.
"Just keep playing boys," the owner yelled over the man's ramblings. He helped the injured man into a back room, presumably the owner's private office, and the drunken patrons seemed to forget all about it. They merely shifted their gaze back to the band and awaited the final song.
"Out of sight, out of mind, eh?" Blake joked to the drunks. "Alright, let's pick this back up."
The band once again started up their song, and this time, managed to finish it.
* * * * *
"For our first show, that went over nicely," Theo said as he placed his synth in the back of his van.
"Agreed," Harold said. "No one noticed that you fucked up either."
"Ha ha," Theo replied sarcastically, taking a drink of Heineken.
"No, but they did notice when you fucked up Harold," Luke said. "During the solo on 'Broken'. You royally screwed that song."
"At least people can hear when I fuck up," Harold replied.
"And you do a lot," Luke retorted.
"Guys, stop fighting," Blake said. "You both suck. Let's just leave it at that and call it a night." All but Harold laughed.
"Aw fuck off. What's the point of having a bassist if you can't fucking... hear... him," Herald trailed as he stared at a stumbling figure in the back doorway of the bar. The figure moaned loudly.
"Looks like a drunk got out," Blake joked. The man pushed off the door and stumbled towards them. Harold casually started approaching him.
"Look bud, we don't do autographs," he said, reaching out to put his hand on the drunkards shoulder. That's when he caught a good look at him.
"Guys, its that bouncer," Harold said, turning back to the others.
"Nothing like alcohol to douse the pain of whatever happened to him," Theo joked.
"That's what I'd want," Harold admitted. "If anything ever happens to me, just pour some booze down my throat and call it a day."
Harold's laugh quickly turned to a panicked cry as the bouncer grabbed his extended arm and bit deep into his forearm.
"What the fuckin' fuck!" Harold yelled as he yanked his arm away from the man, flinging blood everywhere.
"Fucking gross!" Paul yelled, jumping back. "You got blood all over me, you asshole!"
"Fuckin' help me!" Harold yelled. He quickly turned and ran from the crazed man, hopping into the back of the van.
"Harold, can you move the rest of your arm?" Blake yelled.
"Yeah, its alright," he responded after a short silence. "Bleeding a lot. Hurts like a bitch. It's pretty deep, but doesn't seem damaged."
"Then quit being a pussy," Blake yelled back. "You're fine."
"Slag off!"
"Guys?" Luke said, gesturing towards the bouncer. Behind him was another familiar face, the bar owner. His once white shirt was now covered in red.
Blood.
"What the fuck is happening?" Harold asked no one. The bouncer inched closer. He was closest to Blake.
"Let's just get in the van and leave," Paul suggested. Everyone muttered in agreement. Theo jumped in the driver's seat and started it up. Luke grabbed the passenger seat. Paul and Blake sat in the back with Harold, who had stripped his undershirt and had it wrapped around his wound.
"Lets get out of here now," Harold said as the bouncer and bar owner pounded on the doors and windows, staring inside with dead, black eyes.
Theo didn't hesitate, and in seconds, they were on the road.