Necrometal: The Story of the Death Lines
Chapter One: Invitation to a Slaughter
"No! I told you it was supposed to be RED!" cried a disappointed and angry Jeff Kanser, "I swear to God, every single thing I do, I HAVE to do myself!" The phone babbled back pleadingly. But Jeff was not swayed. "NO! Look, blood is a red color! We aren't making a predator movie, we're playing METAL!" (babble, babble, babble) "You thought it would be hardcore if we were ALIENS!? Aliens may be cool, but we don't have that kind of makeup! We only have makeup for warriors and demons!" (babbling) "YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT YOU'RE GOING TO DO IT AGAIN! I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO KILL ANOTHER AGENT! NOW GET ON IT!"
Jeff hung up the phone with a huge, exasperated sigh. "Well, guys," he said to his fellow band mates, "it looks like there isn't much we can do but wait another half hour for them to clean the walls and repaint them with the correct color of blood. Which means…anyone? Anyone?"
Harry raised his hand.
"More drinking…?" he nervously stammered.
"YES!" shouted Jeff. "MORE DRINKING!" The band cheered.
Jeff Kanser, Harry Johnson, Mary Banshee, John Dino and Sven-From-Berlin played in a metal band called Squiggly Death Lines. Jeff was a vocalist, while Harry and John played guitars. Sven played bass and Mary played the drums. They liked to play what ranged from black metal to simple, hardcore pure-American death metal. They formed sometime in 1992, but didn't get any real publicity outside of Minnesota until 2003. Eleven years of strictly local fame…imagine all the violence they went through to pursue THAT goal.
This night was one of their shows for the "Let's Save Satan" tour of 2007. It consisted of young, uprising metal bands with a small-time fan base in order to build an empire on their sound. Of course, since Squiggly Death Lines were so amazingly brutal, they had no trouble at all.
30 Drunken Minutes Later…
"Guys, you're one in five minutes," popped in the manager. "You should probably get your makeup cleaned up."
"You think we don't know?" shouted Mary. (See, Mary was more punk than metal, but she was so brutal that they let her in. She added a real cool punky feel to an amazingly dark show of blood.) Sven rambled on for a few seconds in German angrily and drunkenly at the manager, and the manager shouted back. They had a brief argument in German and then stopped abruptly. "Jesus, guys. It's always 'Hey, let's push around Tom the Manager' or 'Let's piss off Tom the Manager' or 'Hey, let's burn Tom the Manager's house down!' I swear, sometimes I wonder why I still work for you shitheads.
Jeff flipped the bird and Tom exited the room.
"Okay, tonight –hic- let's play a reall -hic- … really good show," spewed Jeff, "I'll stop –hic-hiccupping once I start scream-hic-screaming. Burp."
SQUIG-GLY DEATH LINES! SQUIG-GLY DEATH LINES! Chanted the crowed from the stands, anticipating the head-explosion of what was the Death Lines. A few minutes went by and backstage the band was heating up to the crowd.
"Alright," said Jeff between hiccups, "they're really ready to see us, so let's give them a really good fucking show."
The band walked on stage to a crowd of around 4,000 people screaming. They gave a menacing look and flashed the horns to the crowd and Jeff stepped up to the microphone. "LISTEN UP, YOU LITTLE SHITS!" he shouted to his adoring fans, "WHO HERE IS A TRUE SQUGGLY FAN!?" Half the crowd cheered. He went on. "GOOD! THEN I WANT YOU ALL TO GET IN A DEATH LINE!" Screams erupted from the mosh pit and everyone formed a line spaced a person apart each.
"Okay, in case you don't know how to do this, here's how it works," Jeff began. "It's a bit like the wall of death belonging to Lamb of God, but ours is a lot cooler and a lot harder to pull off. The biggest guys get on the ends of the line and then the smaller people get into the middle of the line. When I scream, I want the guys on the outside to push in and close the line into a circle pit where you and ONLY YOU are applicable to mosh! Anyone in the circle who tries to jump in on the action will be sniped!"
The snipers cocked their rifles.
"Understand!? Okay…ready!? Here we go." The band began their song, slowly and quietly with a deep and heavily distorted riff with tons of mid to make the song seem blurry at first…and then Mary slammed on the bass drum with the ferocity of a fiery fucking earthquake, and Jeff screamed.
The line started to move inwards and the people started to bleed. Finally the line became a clump of around 25 people slamming into each other with a ton of force. They all began screaming the lyrics of the song and punching each other. A few people were sniped, but then the lights went off and the strobe light came on.
"Alright," Jeff shouted. "FREE FOR ALL!" He began screaming the dark lyrics of the song from the bowels of his lungs and people began slamming into each other. Fire roared from all around the stadium, blood from the sniped people was absorbed into the ground, cycled into the stage and sprayed from fire-hoses. It erupted into a guitar solo from Harry blended with a major double-bass and snare lick from Mary. Mary was screaming at the tops of her lungs like Dani Filth into the boom mic, which eased its way over the drums, signaling the start of the next verse.
Suddenly, the music stopped and the band continued to play. Baffled by the fact that they couldn't hear, they thought they were deaf at first. But then, they all realized their equipment had been shut down.
Trying to save the show, Jeff screamed. "TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIEEEEEEES!" The crowd cheered at the minor inconvenience, when suddenly fire burst onto the wood of the stage. Out of the flame leapt skeletons with swords and shields, jumping at the band. Screaming and confused, the Death Lines ran to the other side of the stage. Then, before their and the crowd's eyes, who screamed at the stage, thinking it was an act, appeared a portal that glowed bright blue.
Out stepped a noble woman in a dark purple robe. She told the band to come with her. Everyone stepped into the portal and the Death Lines disappeared from the stage.
Miles and years away, the band appeared in a campsite surrounded by a large concrete wall with a small opening. The woman in purple turned around and said "Greetings, young warriors. I am Akara, I run things around here. A great evil has been spreading over the land in the past few weeks, and the destruction has been rumored to be the doings of Diablo himself. We need warriors like you to help rid us of this great evil, so please help us survive.
The band considered this and spoke to each other in a group. Harry appeared from the group and asked "What's in it for us?" Akara, baffled, asked "Excuse me?"
"He means, what do we get if we help you?" appeared Jeff from the bunch. "I mean, to all of us, you could just die. No big deal. We have shit to work on. You could be a priestess or you could just be luring us into something so you could have your boyfriend rape us. What do we get if we help you fight the evil?"
"Wait!" shouted Mary. "Why would we want to fight evil? We love evil."
"Ya," agreed Sven, who went on to say they love the devil the most.
Akara realized what she was dealing with in relation to intellect, so she said "You get to kill things. Lots of things."
That's it. The band was sold. They all immediately agreed to help.
"Excellent," said Akara. "Well, before we do anything, you need to choose your path. Over on these walls, I have put out scrolls for you to look at and choose what you want to do to help us. You have 5 choices: Amazon, Necromancer, Barbarian, Sorceress, and Paladin. Choose wisely. The Amazon in a skilled warrior that handles well with a spear and bow. The Necromancer can curse enemies and summon the dead. The Barbarian is an amazing warrior who is skilled with close-quarters combat and weapons above all else. The Sorceress can cast many spells and curses by using the elements of Fire, Ice and Lightning. And last but not least, the Paladin is a blessed warrior who fights in the name of the Holy Lord himself.
John made a puking noise at the sound of the Paladin and ran for the Barbarian scroll. "Hell yeah!" he shouted.
Sven glanced around and decided to jump for the Paladin.
"I thought you loved the devil, Sven," said Harry questioningly. Sven's translator stepped up and told them all he used to be in a Christian Metal band.
"Oh!" they all said understandingly.
"That's odd…" said Jeff, who ran for the Necromancer's scroll. He began to laugh maniacally and sang "I get to summon the de-ad. I get to summon the de-ad!"
Mary immediately ran for the Sorceress's scroll and shouted in her awesome British accent, "WHO FUCKING CARES?! I GET TO USE FIRE!"
Last to choose was Harry. He chose the Barbarian as well.
"Hey!" shouted John. "I chose the Barbarian, copycat!"
Harry angrily shouted "I don't care! I'm not a copier! I just like weapons."
"Whatever," said John dismissively and then whispered under his breath, "copycat."
"Alright, now that you've all chosen weapons and paths, you will begin your journey at dawn. Although it will look like now…because of the infinite rain and red sky…anyway, take care, everyone."
The Death Lines, after an odd night of drinking and fantasizing about killing, rolled into their little cots and fell fast asleep, awaiting the darkness of a new day.
[Disclaimer: I do not own any Diablo II characters, Diablo II, or Lamb of God. I also do not own Dani Filth or Cradle of Filth. I own the characters I created and I own Squiggly Death Lines.