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I've Long Forgot Exactly Who I am.

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This place was baffling and to think I had unearthed it by accident due to some locals that coaxed me to follow them.

Initially, I was hesitant because of all the horror stories my father informed me back in his traveling days. I made certain I didn't leave the apartment without a weapon of any kind in case I was to be murdered or worse. I was shipped to Oslo, Norway, for a job to find the most interesting story the would make any normal person cringe. I managed to publish a few stories back to the states, but they were nothing major. They became popular in the United States, and all the credit was mine to take, but the beautiful scenery was of its own credit. The trip stared all due to a bet by our company, my dart landed in Norway while everyone else deflected a bullet in the states or somewhere in Europe. I didn't mind, It just meant that I was sent somewhere cliché and no one appeared to be producing anything interesting near the Norwegian nation. The stunner of this situation was unbelievable and looked frequently better in person than in a magazine. I was experiencing the pleasant breeze, the feel of the refreshing water surrounding my feet and the history. What you produce with a magazine that's a tangible dream caked with ink and easy paper to cut and throw away.
It was unmistakably an imitation. Nothing compared to this experience.

My gaze would shift around the place, and more people would keep pouring in from all directions as my tour guides were laughing and jumping around like rabid dogs. The place smelt of stale beer, woman's perfume and the occasional smell of raw acrid air, heavy and festering scent mixed with elbow grease. The situation was unpleasant nor was it decorated to look that way and I swore I was likely to be given to Satan. What made matters worse was that I was in the front of the stage, starting at the instruments that glistened in the light. The voice filled the air as I tried keeping my focus on my task and would question myself as to why I was here. I wasn't aware there was going to be a show tonight, but packed my camera and made certain the flash stayed off, out of respect for everyone. A group came gathering around the stage, but others preferred remaining at their table for fear of losing their spots.

"You are going to love this, trust me." Stated one of the locals.

I only frowned, but I knew the local was going to tell me what the event was. It bothered me I had no knowledge of this event and yet I still managed to get in. This could be some kind of joke to prank me. I was a tourist after all and it was common. I originally came to see if a school would accept my resume and maybe I could take a few journalism classes. I had always been dismissed for my articles and was only praised for my stunning”and marvelous photographs. The more I thought about it, the more I recognized what a pretentious, misogynous asshole my employer absolutely was. Quitting was out of the questions since this trip was my biggest payday and finding that sort of pay was hard to come by.

I held onto my camera for dear life, mostly because it was an priceless piece of equipment that I couldn't replace. I merely hope that whatever is going to happen tonight is worth my time and the cost of my life. I was determined that this night was going to be my meal ticket, and I would never have to worry about paying rent by the skin of my teeth.

The lights started to dim and the masses started to howl and scream, saying things I was incapable to understand. The locals I humbly followed cheered enthusiastically as they shoved each other playfully and persistently tried speaking correctly to me. I, of course, was not all the interested in being disruptive and only glanced towards that stage to perceive what the vast deal was. By this time, I heard footstep clomping all over the stage and could make out four figures, grabbing for their instruments, and right away the lights flickered on and the band played without warning.

I jerked back when the lead singer began screaming into the microphone and the crowd managed to get louder with their screams. The singer's long blond hair covered his face due to his fast movements and for a split second I saw his face was covered in some type of stage makeup. My heart was thumping rapidly as I held my heart, attempting to process what the fuck was going on, but it appeared the word steady wasn't part of their vocabulary as a the crowd commenced to make a mosh pit.

Oh, what a joy!

There was a complex line of countless people forming a circle to wisely keep the mosh pit under control, but more people would jump in and out to voluntarily contribute. I accepted this chance to snap a few photos of the band members and even the crowd that was threatening my camera's life. I promptly direct it backwards in my protection and made sure the lens was covered so it wouldn't get demolished or filthy. The mosh pit lasted for a good thirty minutes before people began getting overheated and would go back to the tables for refreshments. I took more pictures, this time getting closer to a group of women who stood head banging and what I assumed singing the lyrics.

They represent the typical groupies trying to show off their assets, get laid and then brag to all their friends about sleeping with which ever band mate. I wasn't one to judge, but these women didn't seem like they belonged in this type of scenery. Then again, I didn't look the part either, even with my leather jacket and combat boots I still felt like I didn't belong. I additionally had a bright crimson scarf draped over my shoulders, but I constantly wore it just like my choker. One of the groupies nudged me by accident, but I was more concerned about my camera. She fell over, laughing and I knew she was intoxicated and only trying to have a good time, even though her presence annoyed me. I decided to be a good samaritan and encourage the intoxicated woman up as she made her way back over to her friends.

I sighed, capturing their pictures as they jumped around in their skimpy outfits and idolized the singer. I swear they were cruder than the singer with all the screaming that these banshees were producing. My local guides were spinning around madly as they tried launching another mosh pit by the stage, which caused me to move over to the group of females. I could smell the overpowering scent of perfume and lust drenched in their clothes as I made my way past them and by the edge of the stage to take pictures. I could feel the heat beating down on me since there were warm bodies everywhere and the lights didn’t help much.

I ended up taking my jacket off and propelling it over to an unoccupied table, making it land perfectly on the chair and gave myself a victory jig. I went back to my post, making slight contact with the guitars that would look at me from time to time. His appearance was unsettling to say the least, but hence was everyone else that was part of this band. I swiftly tooksome photos of him and backed off the stage. The blond is who interested me the most, his extraordinary energy was being broadcast all over the place. His strands of hair tangling with the air and his voice booming around the room. I couldn't help but stare for a while as he moved nearby on stage like some kind of untamed animal. His howling and screaming was truly terrifying to me, but it was hard to walk away from the event. I managed to capture shots of the blond's face every time he would look up, but there was something off about the smell that was coming from the stage. The closer I got, the more familiar the smell got and knew right away it was the smell of slaughter. My mood went from exciting to worry as I looked around to see where there could be anything dead lying around. I didn't attempt to make it obvious that I was concerned; that was until I caught the blonde notice my reactions.

I scrunched my nose at the overpowering smell and slowly back away from the performers and stayed in the center of the crowd as they fooled around with each other.
My hazel eyes met the singers for a moment, and he handed me a menacing smile, screaming deep into the microphone. I felt my heart jolt inside my rib cage as I backed off, seeking an exit. The farther away, I felt as the blonde was taking glances at me ever to often. It's like he comprehended what I already knew and then he demanded the opportunity to do it the act. I saw him kneel down, acquiring something massive. Out of curiosity, I stopped making my motions and watched him carefully, and he tosses the object into the crowd of women I had pushed past earlier.

Initially, they were confused, looking down at the floor and that when one of the screamed and ran out the door of the building. The other women didn’t seem to catch on due to their intoxicated state and gradually grasped the situation. One woman pointed her fake nail to the floor and kicked the object as she ran, causing the woman follow suit as the object was tousled around. The women screamed and started gasping as they pushed their direction to the bathrooms. One woman fell trying to get to the bathroom, another pushing her way past the crowd trying to make it out.

Being the cynical asshole, I was, a laughed escaped my lips for the group since the severity of the situation wasn’t even that serious.

I looked around to see if anyone else comprehends what was going on, but they were excessively drunk or were engulfed with other things. I endured what was to come, seeming as a target the blonde had intended, his guitarist threw something and it hit a group of men. I could hear the sickening splat making contact with leather, and a line of cuss words left the man's lips as he tried to figure out what it was. I saw the unfortunate victim pull the object off his jacket and fling it on the ground in anger, ready to fight. He was held back by his posse and left the event, practically ripping the door off the hinges.

“How attractive,” I said under my breath.

The blond threw another pig head, just breezing past me and striking a woman directly in the face with such force she fell backward onto the floor with it. She screamed so loud the table next to her focused their attention to her and watched with curiosity. She threw the head, causing it to gently graze my arm as I watched it slide across the floor. I grazed my arm, feeling the substance caked on my fingertips as I played with the goo. Instantly the smell ferried me back to a time when my grandparents came to visit the farm. The smell, the horrible screaming took me back to a time when I was an innocent child.

My eyes transfixed at my feet as people began to frantically move back and forth to and from the stage or the exit that was in the back of the building. The bold ones ventured cautiously to the front, genuinely enjoying the local music and rotting flesh raining down on them. The smell was overpowering, but I didn't have a weak stomach and got closer as the stench lingers in my nose. The large ears made it obvious it wasn't anything human, but it didn't stop me from picking it up and taking a closer look. The unfortunate thing's graceful head had been chopped off poorly, but it had a look of peace as if it knew precisely its ultimate fate. I’m reasonably certain this would be the last place it would have ever dreamed of.

 

It was profound indeed, The snout of this remarkable thing was tremendous and the ears accurately covered my entire hand. The gradual decay was maybe a day old, but I wasn't daunted and nearer to the crowd as the calling of the gifted vocalist became ear-piercing with each stride. I remember my grandfather's words, every time a pig was up for slaughter. The scent of a pig never leaves you, but if you're unused to the scent, chances are you were never raised in the carnage. I contended with the head, but I managed to fling it back on the stage as it ricocheted off the stage floor and vanished into the darkness of the torn curtains.
.
I was undaunted by actions of shock value, but it was a satisfying attempt.

However, the show was worth it, but I needed to recognize who they were without coming on as a stalker. My Norwegian isn't all the great, but maybe I'll get fortunate and have a translator aid me. I promptly removed myself from the ground, and what I found was the same pig head staring at me. I was too preoccupied when I experienced the force of a pig head hot my lower back, inducing me to lose balance and knock everything off the table that was at my side. The sound of shattered bottles on hard floors was unpleasant and of course I reek of the vile liquid. Lucky for me, the camera was safe, but now my clothing was soaked and I could already image bruises. I could assess the pain in my back, knees and of course my palms. I promptly withdrew myself from the ground, and what I found was the same pig head staring at me. I naturally assumed it was the same one, but then again how many did this band slaughter just for amusement?

Blood and stale beer dripped from my hands as I inspected the damage and sure enough, glass had been implanted into my hand. The pain wasn’t agonizing, but that didn’t imply I was menaced with an infection. I can only image how many germs coated the surface of this one area with dirt and whatever else could be placed there. I sighed, walking towards the side of the bar to see if there was a bartender available. Just my luck there was no one there and not even one customer occupied the booths. I glance around, accomplishing my way behind the bar to find a kit or something to cleanse the wound. I didn’t obtain anything, but used the sink even though the grime was enough to make me have second thoughts. The water took a while, but to my relief it was clear and I could wash the impurities off. The tranquil water kept everything numb for a brief while till the shifting of the glass began to become unbearable. I got what I could out, but there were minor pieces snuggled in my skin like a warm kitten.

I wrapped my hands with a small towel after shredding it into two separate pieces and cursed at myself for being so careless. That’s when I discovered that damn pig again, getting kicked around like a soccer ball by the remaining fans.

The crowd was becoming unhinged as men and woman pushed one another, throwing beer on each other or took part in a soon intimate act. I seized this as my chance to leave, but I wanted to give Blondie over there a parting gift before I made my escape. I collected the head up as I pushed past the people, ignoring the screaming and the disgusting display of affection and maintained my eyes on the blonde moving rapidly all over the stage. With all my strength I flung the head, observing it spin in the air I decided to quickly move in case this guy got pissed if it hit him. I quickly looked back, acquiring a look of confusion on his face and then that’s when he looked at me. I just sighed, working my way to the front door before receiving another glance and seeing the same stupid smirk he demonstrated me at one time before. I gave him both my middle fingers before leaving to go back to the apartment and decided I would develop the photos in my red room. I wasn’t going to be sleeping given the fact that I had experienced something that would add to the night terrors. A breeze waved over me and that's when I saw I had blanked out my jacket on the table.

"Fuck."

I didn't want to go back, but I didn't want to instantly freeze to eternal death either, damn my unreliable memory. I promptly moved around the corner and hurried back into the lively bar directly to the gleaming table where my jacket was. I was thankful it was still there and I even made certain all my stuff like my ID, my wallet and my keys were where I placed them. I sighed with relief and threw my jacket back on and went back out the bar to avoid any unnecessary human contact. I took notice that the band had stopped playing, but the dazzling lights were still on and there were people still looming around. I could overhear them eagerly discussing the rare show and how ecstatic they were during certain parts of the show. I typically took mental notes of what they were saying and that when they ultimately declared what I wanted to hear.

Mayhem.

“That guy is fucking insane! I mean, who injures themselves?!”commented a fan.

My ears perked up to that last part, but the band was nowhere to be seen and that’s what made it eerie. I was only gone for maybe five minutes and all of a sudden everything stops and changes. The atmosphere was well lit, and I could see the destruction that got out of hand. Pig heads, broken beer bottles and even blood smeared frantically over the floors and stage. This looked more like a crime scene if anything and the smells mixing in with each other was nauseating. My wonder could wholly determine if these guys were serial killers or maybe just mentally ill.

“That might get infected.”

My gaze shifted off the pigs closed lids and to a man that had been standing there for god knows how long. Looking at my hands, the cloth was in fact dirty and covered in a black substance mixed with my blood. I frowned, feeling the same sting from earlier and just shoved my hands in my jacket pockets.

“It’s not a big deal.” I muttered.

I turned on my heel only to be annoyed with people that crowed over the doors and the bar stools. I was going to be here for a while, and I really didn’t like that given the fact I was injured and tired from all the excitement. Two men walked around the area, inspecting the damages and began to clean the carnage as if this wasn’t the first time it happened.

“There’s a medical kit in the back if you don’t want to wait.”

Once he said that, my hands began to shiver in pain as if begging to be relived and healed. I didn’t want to follow some random stranger to an unfamiliar place with and possibly have something happen to me. I should just wait, but the pain was getting annoying with each movement I made. Infection would present a risk I would not be willing to take, but was it worth getting murdered?

“Fine, but don’t try anything.”

I made sure my tone was stern to let him know I was in no mood to be fucked with. He merely offered me a nod and coaxed me to follow him to the back where I’m certain those psychos were.