"tune out
everyone in the crowd, because now it's just me and you
come fall in love with the sound
make a pact to each other"

- deftones, 'needles and pins'//deftones

✵✵✵

In the days following, Mercy logged onto all active extreme metal forums in Sweden, and would regularly check message boards, public chats, and newsfeeds for auditions. She signed up for auditions as a vocalist, or a bassist, or a guitarist. Although Mercy enjoyed drumming, she did not want to commit to it long-term – because as greatly as she respected drummers, she herself was a showman and did not want to sit so far back onstage.

Online search aside, Ahmad used his artistic abilities and Procreate skills to design an advertisement calling all interested musicians to be a part of a new band. When Mercy first saw the thumbnail charts of his ideas, she was bowled over by how highly he regarded her. "You're overselling me," she stated, and to emphasize, read out, "The Bass Beastess and Growl Goddess of the New Extreme Metal Scene? This is really sweet of you, but—"

"No buts. I'm not overselling you," Ahmad interrupted, "I'm just taking what Sam Dunn wrote in his articles—widely read articles, might I add—and spicing it up a little."

"Sam Dunn just—"

"Called you the 'face of the new extreme metal scene'. Yeah..." Scoffing, he cheekily jibed, "that's not a big deal at all."

The memory of that widespread title, of the first time she read the articles that made her fame skyrocket in the industry, brought a smile to her face. And she relented. "That's a pretty big deal... and I'm proud of it."

"So, let's use it to your advantage, shall we?"

"Alright."

Thereon, the advertisement was finalized and printed in various dimensions. Ahmad – this invaluable and supportive human for whom Mercy was exceedingly thankful – spent at least an hour every day, after closing Ancient Ink, and traveled around Gothenburg alongside her to put the prints up at alternative clubs and biker bars, on record store notice boards and in underground zines.

This evening was their final advertising run. The whole effort culminating in album hunting at their favorite store Linné Skivbörs. Ahmad rifled through the darkwave tray, while Mercy stood a few trays away, updating her industrial metal collection. Saxa, the sullen-faced yet sweet-natured owner of Linné Skivbörs, was arranging a new stock of records on the display rack parallel to them.

Peering from the space between two shelves, Saxa asked, "you guys going to The Abyss tonight?"

"What's happening in The Abyss tonight?" Mercy queried, trying to choose one out of the three Nine Inch Nails vinyls in her hands.

"It's open stage night," Saxa said, "if you're looking to make a band, that's the place to start."

Ahmad and Mercy exchanged glances. Then Ahmad swiveled to fully focus on Saxa. "Are they any good? The performers?"

Saxa shrugged. "Well, they're amateurs, so y'know—" her lips pulled down in a meh expression "—but there's an occasional diamond in the rough. Some real, raw talent."

"When does it start?" asked Mercy.

"Nine-ish," answered Saxa, hefting the empty cartons. As she walked past Mercy, she said, "of the three, you might wanna get 'With Teeth'. Stellar album."

Mercy tucked 'With Teeth' under her arm, putting the other two vinyls back in their tray. Ahmad approached, brandishing two Depeche Mode and one Digital Daggers albums. "I love coming here," he said. "Ooh, NIN. Badass."

The pair made their way to the billing desk. Mercy asked, "will you come to The Abyss with me?"

Ahmad flashed a wide grin at her. "I thought you'd never ask. I'm bringing Jia to carpool us."

"Sounds great."

After paying for their purchases and thanking Saxa, Ahmad and Mercy left Linné Skivbörs, walking to the nearest train station. They boarded the transit to their common junction and separated there for their respective addresses.

"Eight forty, sharp!" Ahmad called from behind her.

"Okay!" Mercy waved him off without turning around; she was known for her punctuality. If anyone was going to delay, it would be Ahmad – unable to pick a chest-harness from his infinite collection.

Mercy took her sweet time – a good thirty minutes – to assemble her get-up. Her hoodie and tee were exchanged for a battle-vest and a tank top whose straps made a pentagram on her bosom. Her sweatpants were replaced by black jeans, and her sneakers by calf-length studded boots. She then did her make-up; glossy red lipstick, slight contouring, and lightning bolt styled eyeliner. She brushed her hair to volumize it. Finally, Mercy dove into her jewelry – septum pinchers, onyx studs for her bridge piercing, spiked snake bites, rings on her eyebrows, and a fair number of helices and studs adorned her ears. A lacy choker went about her neck, studded vambraces bridled her forearms – and she felt powerful, in her element. Ready to recruit and make a new band.

Jia, Ahmad's roommate and the only one of their small circle who owned a car, wolf-whistled when she saw Mercy. "You look tasty," she complimented. "Happy to see you in my jacket."

"It's a pretty dope jacket," returned Mercy, sliding into the passenger's seat, "it's got patches of all my favorite bands."

"Well, you're welcome, sweetness," Jia said with a smirk, expertly navigating the Camaro out of the narrow street.

The Abyss was the best heavy metal themed club-bar in Scandinavia, specializing in live music, quizzes, release shows and promotions. Half of the Andra Lång Road was bathed red and yellow from its large, neon ouroboros. After snagging a space in the basement parking, the three took the elevator to the club level. A floor-to-ceiling sign on the elevator's back wall, a customized caricature of Slayer's 'Seasons In The Abyss', read 'Welcome To The Abyss'.

Mercy led her friends straight to the bar, ordering three Trooper beers. Upon asking, the bartender informed that they were still in the first act of the event. Hours wore on, from one performer to the next, from instrumentalists and vocalists to neonate groups. Her two friends in counsel, they appreciated some and disregarded others, finished about four light beers each. However, none stood out enough for Mercy to consider recruiting. She almost believed this night was going to be an exercise in futility when the MC made an announcement that curbed her despair. "I know a lot of you have been waiting for this," he said, pointing at a crowd on the left end of the club. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome..."

Craning her neck, Mercy saw just another table of standard metalheads. Then they parted, letting someone through to the stage. Still, all she could make out was an impressive set of shoulders and a beyond impressive length of cornrows. The MC flourished an arm in the person's direction and yelled, "...the resident star of The Abyss! Brida Okeke!"

Brida took the stage; Mercy's mind stopped in its track and her heart set off in a run. She beheld the most beautiful creature she had ever laid eyes on.