Scandinavian Heartstrings, in Drop D.

Chapter 8.9 Bloodfest II

The night air swirled like a Van Gough painting as Skwisgaar stumbled lifelessly through the festival crowd.

"Fucking Thunderhoooooorrrse! Wooooooo!" The voice from the speakers boomed again. "With their sick new lead guitarist! Make some motherfuckin' noise for Pelle! The shred master!"

A wave of cold sweat broke out all over Skwisgaar. He turned to the stage as a guy with a long, green mohawk started the crowd's chant.

"Pel-le! Pel-le! Pel-le!"

He must still be asleep, because this was a starry-fucking-nightmare! His heart heaved and thrashed against his ribcage as it tried to escape. Anxiety and adrenaline mixed and merged in his gut. The world warped and darkened around him. Bricks were ripped from his wall in rhythm with the chant.

"Pel-le! Pel-le! Pel-le!"

He snapped.

"Don'ts you says his name!" Skwisgaar yelled as he spun wildly about. His eyes were erratic and scared, every movement was defensive. "Don'ts any of you says it!" He was totally exposed; A retched, black soul, naked and bare. They could see him. They could see him! Their faces closed in around him. He was a cornered animal running purely on instinct; his fight instincts took hold this time.

Charles was distracted from his phone call by the sound of Skwisgaar's over-insured hands, clenched into fists, and connecting with someone's face. "Roy, I'll have to call you back." Charles snapped the phone shut and strode with purpose to the guitarist. "Dear god! Stop this!"

Skwisgaar threw his victim backwards but the man found his footing and moved in for the counterattack. Charles drew a taser from his breast pocket and administered a good dose of lightning to the would-be assailant. He then quickly ushered the Skwisgaar away from the public-relations-nightmare twitching on the asphalt.

"Just go back to the Limo, I'll get Toki." He tried to order.

"Fuck hims! He amn'st coming." Skwisgaar wiped cold sweat from his brow and hot tears from his cheeks as he trod angrily through the festival grounds.

"He has to come back, we're too far behind schedule for this!" Offdensen said as he trotted alongside him; that phone call was not a friendly one.

"Well he amn'st in Dethklok no mores so he amn'st needings to record." Skwisgaar's voice levelled out as they passed through the gate.

"What?"

"I fireds him."

"Oh dear God, not this again." His manager let out a frustrated sigh as they approached the limo.

"No! Fucks him! If he ams so fuckings happy here den he can stays!" The driver opened the door for his master and Skwisgaar slid inside without even breaking step. "I says goods ridgenks!"

Charles looked back at the stage. If they left now he could drop Skwisgaar home and then return to pick up Toki just after the festival ended. The accompanying security hood opened the door for his master, "Three-Forty-Two, keep an eye on things here until I return." Charles said as he took his seat.

"Yes, Sire." The hood said as he closed the door and the Limo pulled away.

***

Toki ran after Emily as she ducked and weaved through the crowd.

"Waits, please!" He called after her. She turned to face him with puffy red eyes and smeared mascara. He tried to hold her.

"No! No, no, no, no!" She said as she smacked him away repeatedly. She stood there a perfect mess. Toki held his mouth open for a long time as he started a few different sentences but didn't give sound to any of them.