S T O C K H O L M 🍒 S Y N D R O M E
《Toki Wartooth, Metalocalypse》
Warnings: abduction, cursing, alcohol/drug use/mention,
Chapter 2, Fade To Black
"no one but me; an save myself; but it's too late; now I can't think; think why I should even try..."
-metallica
°•♡
Chapter 1; "Oh boys..." Toki groaned to himself. Little did he know.
Little did he know what he was in for.
It was loud until the lights came on over the stage. It was empty. Not even a drum set or microphone. The fog machines cut on, as routinely, but still no band. There were no cheers. Only confused murmurs. Even the scent of earthy marijuana arose, but there was still no band. Minutes passed before people started shouting angrily and starting a mob.
Then a man stepped onto the stage, announcing that the band was... gone.
°•♡
"What the fuck?! You alcoholics would really go out of your way to kidnap a whole ass goddamn band for kicks?!"
"Reefer!"
"Yeah! Be more original! Wait are we in a fucking plane?"
"No, dumbass."
"Noia, get us out of heeere!!"
"Dumbass, I am also tied up, just be quiet. Please!"
The room was so pitch black you couldn't tell who you were talking to. They had been knocked out, tied up, and shipped to a whole new location. It smelt like beer and weed, and the band only does one of them. The two men (and one woman) were out of their minds from this new type of marijuana they got their hands on. It surprised them that it's lasted this long.
"Oh shit."
"Reefer" was the band's drummer. Active and loud. He had long curly hair that he usually kept pulled up, a few strands straying over his forehead, and looks like 1988 Jason Newsted. He was the one who supplied the others with their gold.
"What.. did you piss yourself?"
There was a sudden burst of laughter from the rhythm guitarist at her own joke. She was Reefer's sister, "Mary Jane". They were inseparable and equally annoying and energetic. She had curly blonde hair, too, but it was more like the Steven Adler curly hair than the Jason Newsted curly hair that Reefer had. They were literally the same person just with different genitals. They weren't twins, Reefer was a year older, but they sure could pass as such.
"Gross, dude."
The bassist chuckled. He had long, dark brown shaggy hair. He was soft spoken and never said anything to hurt another. Though his personality was often misinterpreted by his dark clothes and black metal tees. He was the most tolerable out of the three. "Gasper" they called him, and he just so happened to be the siblings' cousin.
"Hey, Noia?" Reefer called out. His tone serious and foreshadowing a question. "What?"
Lastly, there was "Paranoia", or Noia. She was the face of the band, the singer and lead guitarist. She didn't smoke as much as the rest. In fact, she rarely ever did unless they drove her to that state of need. She had slicked back dark hair and a black and white distortingly painted face and over it, a skull cat mask. She was the only one in the band to wear something other than their regular clothes on stage: a long black witch-like spider-like dress with a high slit and elbow-length white gloves. She was the glue that held the band together, the one who got them popular, the one that got them together. Currently, she was mildly annoyed at her bandmates' immaturity in this situation.
"I think your folks probably kidnapped us uh..." Reefer chuckled tensely and started to cough. By the feel of the wet droplets on her leg she could tell he was beside her. She turned her head with a snarl. "Do not fucking joke about that." She spat. "Yeah, Reef... that was... uh-" Mary started to giggle, "kinda insensitive."
"Womp womp."
"Reef, dude, you need to stop. She'll fuck you up." Gasper said cautiously. "Sorry.."
"Better be." She huffed, shuffling her feet within the scratchy restraints. How these fuckers managed to abduct a whole band? Easy, ... Yeah, how did these fuckers manage? Her memory was fuzzy from fainting. She must have gotten knocked out by some gas.
"Noia, I'm sorry." Reefer repeated. "Yeah, you already said that." She chuckled. There was a second of eerie silence. "Oh yeah." He started to giggle. She sighed out of her nose and pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her head on them. She tried to convince herself that it really wasn't her folks.
The faint alcohol scent... it was like a bottle was spilt in here. She thought. Her folks didn't drink alcohol. That soothed her a bit. There was a rattle in the darkness and the room went silent. No sniffles or coughs. Not even a shuffle. Then a light flicked on, temporarily blinding the four.
"Alright, uh, so here's the plan..." A growl-like voice echoed off the walls. "Oh fuck off dickhead!" Reefer shouted and started to cough again. "Ignore him!" Mary exclaimed. "Oh uh... sorry, doods... for de whole uh... kidnapping thing." The redhead chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. There was a moment of silence. "Yeah, no problem." Reefer remarked.
"Y'know, it's only mandatory that we uh keep you guys in here until we release the new album. To get out fans back, you know..." The big noir said awkwardly. "I mean, uh, you guys are cool and brutal, but that's kind of our thing." The four stared at the men in front of them in silence. The noir cleared his throat and started again, "So uh... we'll be out there- working and shit and uh you guys can uh... hang out in here."
"What if I have to take a shit?" Reefer asked bluntly. "Yeah! What if we get hungry, huh?" Mary Jane added on, kicking her red-booted feet out. She had on some bell bottoms and a white tank top with a denim jacket to pull the look together. Her glittery eye shadow glimmered in the dim light. "Um..." The tall blonde exchanged glances between the other three and blurted: "Tokis will takes cares of that."
"Rights, Toki?"
The long haired brunet lifted his head "Uh, yeah. Sures." He sounded like he desperately yearned to be elsewhere. To not be apart of this offense. And he did. He yearned to be out of here, back in America in that shabby little shop with the girl he labeled "His". He didn't want to be apart of this from the start: he liked this band. He didn't like how the cat last was glaring at him with her dark eyes behind her mask, because it reminded him of His Girl. There was a nature aroma in the room with hints of cheap, manly cologne and sweet, fruity perfume. Yet, he couldn't guess who was wearing what.
As quick as The Talk, as they had called it behind the door, began, it ended. The others left, leaving the door open and Toki behind to collect their needs. "Hey, Toki! Get me some chips or something, man." Reefer said, throwing his head back in boredom. "Yeah! Me, too!" Mary added. Toki nodded. There was no other requests so he turned around for the door.
"I want a beer."
He stopped and turned back. It was the car lady. Her intimidating glare had dropped and she was looking down at her black heels. She sounded defeated and tired, even Reefer could catch the lack of hope in her voice. Toki added it to his list, feeling greatly sorry for the lady, and left the room. The door closed with a gentle bam and the intoxicated ramble erupted.
"A beer?" Gasper repeated almost sadly. Paranoia drinking wasn't rare, but drinking alone? That was a once in a blue moon event. He wasn't exactly sad, but worried and sympathetic. Had the siblings finally tugged her strings too hard? She didn't respond. "Noia," he said. "You could get us out of here, right? You were working on it. The soft one."
"I can not."
"What?"
"I said I can not!" Her voice raised with anger and aggravation. This instance was rare. Especially if it involved Gasper. "You can't or you can't take advantage?" Reefer scoffed. His tone was laced with spite. With spite from all those failed times of getting a record deal in the past. No one wanted a cover band full of stoners. And Paranoia had all she needed to convince the companies, but she couldn't. "I refuse to take advantage. It would not feel right if we did not earn it ourselves." She'd say.
"Both."
There was silence. Not even a smart remark from Reefer or a whiney protest from Mary. Silence. The brunet came back soon and there was still silence. He had two bags of chips and a green tinted glass bottle in his hands. Also a ring of keys between his fingers. Paranoia looked over to Reefer, the chains around his ankles and wrists, as the brunet crouched down on the other side of him. She noticed that she was bonded with scratchy rope. As Toki unlocked Reefer and Mary, only to lock their hands back to their front, Noia shifted in her restraints. They were tied with a tough knot. No amount of pulling from her advantage would knock it loose. He then moved over to her.
She felt the rope come loose and she instantly rubbed her tired wrists. He was gentle with his touches as he brought her hands to her front. He then began to tie them loosely as she stared into his eyes. He could start sweating at how coldly she was staring. Every time he glanced up to meet them, he felt his soul contort painfully. He popped the lid off of the bottle with on of the keys and slipped it in her hands. That cold stare of hers made him shiver. "Thank you."
Her voice was much warmer than her stare. It game him a sense of comfort. Oddly. "N-no problems." He stuttered as he stood up. "Anythings else?" He asked the room. There was no answer.
°•♡
Finally, they had all fallen asleep. They all except Noia, of course. She was sipping on her second bottle of beer. She stared blankly into the darkness. The only sound in the room was her nails against the glass occassionally clicking and the sleepy breathing and snoring from the others. Her mind spun. She had so many thoughts but only one stood out: this is all my fault.
She got them together. She got them famous. She got them stadiums. She got them in this position. And then soon she'd get Dethklok in trouble and their fans would riot. She'd get them killed. It was a risk before when they were just a party and garage band. Her folks.
During her rapid fire self-blaming episode, the door opened. It was left unnoticed as she gulped down the rest of the beer. The figure didn't catch her eye until she felt hands tugging at her restraints. She gasped instinctively and jerked away. Her eyes were adjusted to the darkness, but she could only see a masculine figure. She didn't complain about being untied. He moved down to her ankles and her knees fell apart. She jumped up to her feet, holding the glass bottle like a bat.
"Comes with mes."
It was their server. Toki.
She lowered her weapon and he began to step over the sleeping bodies. There were no lights on outside the door. The others mist have also been asleep. She followed closely behind the brunet, her heels clacking on the floor. He lead her down a hall, up stairs, and into a room which he quickly locked behind him. She sighed and threw the bottle away in a near trash can. Then, suddenly, but gently her grabbed the noir by the arm.
She turned, faced him. Her eyes didn't burn through him anymore. They were soft. Soft voids behind a mask. Her face paint was smudged, showing patches of her rosy cheeks. Her tongue graced over her red, glossy lips, fully uncovered. Her hand went up and covered his. Her long nails were red. There was this energy in the room: his room, which was like a demented child's. His cheeks were growing warm, and his palms sweaty. The energy filled the room, but it seemed to originate from her hand atop his. It reminded him of the record shop. His Girl.
Her other hand rose and removed her mask. It fell down to the floor beside her. And her hand pressed against his chest. His heart, it was like earlier. It scared him. Her hair wasn't perfectly slicked back anymore. It was shiney and wispy, strands falling over her eyes. And his eyes fell to her lips once more. Because they reminded him of cherries.
