Hey, okay, 4 chapters in one day is tiring, but these are short, so I guess it's not really a big deal.
The band is currently flying over Norway.
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Toki stayed to himself for the most part of the trip overseas. The others were talking abuot him in a corner, but he could hear them and he didn't care anyway.
In his pocket was the scrunched up photo he had thrown. He didn't know why he'd brought it with him, but maybe it could heklp him find who he was looking for. He had no way of knowing how long ago it had been taken, after all, and the baby might still be a baby, although he doubted it. He hadn't been back home in Norway for a few years at least. Only for tours.
Below them, the snowy countryside unfolded. Dead and barren trees, snow drifts and abandoned buildings rolled by many feet below them. They were near the village where he grew up, surrounded by desolate buildings and very very few people.
"Take us downs here!" he called out, and Murderface pushed the button that alerted the Hatredcopter's pilot that they wanted him to land.
The copter descended and crushed a building or two beneathe it, very close to his parent's home. They had landed practically in the backyard, the building dwarfed by the enormous steel copter.
He saw his parents emerge from the building and he couldn;t get off the copter fast enough. Deep down inside, he hated his parents, but on the surface, he was at least happy to see familiar faces that weren't Dethklok.
He hugged them both and got no response from either of them.
"I'm back!" he cried in English. Then, remembering that they barely knew English, switched to Norwegian. He repeated himself, but for all the good it did, he might as well have been screaming at a tree.
The rest of the band followed him out, dressed in the usual, and Skwisgaar immediately swore.
"Too fucking cold out here, I'm goin' back inside!" growled Nathan, and he retreated back into the Hatredcopter.
Skwisgaar was bearing up, but barely. Toki glared at him and rolled his eyes; he was wearing his long pants and a light down jacket, blue. His long brown hair blew out in the wind.
"Mom, tell me the truth. Who is Freya? I know you were lying on the dethphone!" he asked his mother in undertones so his father wouldn't hear.
His mother simply stared at the photo he held out to her.
This trip was useless, his parents barely ever said a word unless they felt they had to! It was a wonder he even learned how to talk at all! How to get them to talk... hmm...
He shrugged his jacket off, and even though the wind tore through his t shirt, making him shiver, he pulled that off, too.
"Woo hoo, looks at mes! I'm strippings in da winds!" he called out in English, laughing and dancing.
The rest of Dethklok were staring openmouthed at his antics in the middle of a slight blizzard, but he was used to this. He had pulled many a stunt like this as a child, trying to get a reaction out of his normally-silent parents.
As was expected, his father yelled at him and his mother stood gaping, outraged. He knew what she was thinking; how dare he bare his body for the world to see, right? Well, fuck them! They didn't want to tell him nothing, he would strip in the middle of a blizzard!
"Put your clothes back on, young man, and right now! You want to know who Freya is? Fine!" yelled his father in Norwegian. Both his parents crossed themselves at the sound of the name Freya.
Satisfied, knowing that it still worked just as well now as it did when he was 13, he shook the snow out of his clothes and pulled them back on, shivering. The snow had made them damp. Hell with it.
His parents beckoned to the members of Dethklok that were still outside shivering in the blizzard and turned back inside the house, which was falling into disrepair. Toki shut the door behind them.
"Freya is your younger sister. We turned her over to the shelter, for she was a child of great evil," said his father.
Toki was surprised. The rest of his band, however, just stared, confused. Of course, they had no idea what anyone was saying.
"He says dat Freya is my sisters. I gots a sisters!" he whispered to them. Understanding dawned on their faces.
"You wanted to come all the way out here to nowhere and find a girl? Aw, geez, I'm goin back on the Hatredcopter with Nathan, this sucks," said Murderface, and he left.
Now it was just him, Skwisgaar and Pickles.
The house was exactly as he remembered it. Threadbare couch, clean swept floors, no television set, ugly rugs on the floor and no pictures on the wall. Dreary.
"What do you mean she was a child of evil?" Toki asked indignantly, raising an eyebrow and cocking his head to one side. His parents had some downright strange ideas.
"A viking child. Red hair. Imminent doom. We could not have raised her," said his mother in fluent Norwegian.
He was used to the term viking child, at least. He got called that by reviewers and fans all over the world every day. But the vikings were long gone, everyone knew that! True, it was superstitious belief that people with red hair were usually hard to manage, but still... to abandon her??
"Where did she go?" he asked them.
"We do not know," said his father, and that was that. They would say nothing more on the subject.
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