The Lost Vikings

[Anonymouse]

This idea popped into my head a few nights ago. I wish I could enlist someone who's better at writing to write it for me because I feel like I'm not doing it justice at all. It's a pre-Dethklok story, or at least pre-Dethklok as it exists in the present, ie, before Toki joins the band. If you watch the show and you've seen the first episode of Season 3 you know there was another guitarist before Toki. I thought it would be interesting to explore what happened just before Toki joined while tossing in some sneezy goodness. I have another chapter or two planned out but I probably won't post if there isn't a lot of interest. Even if there is I still feel like I'm not writing at my full potential thanks to all of these college papers leeching my ability to construct at least one decent sentence and it's kind of discouraging. So we'll see.

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All those nightly prayers, daily chores, countless sermons, and frequent beatings in the name of God were finally paying off. Toki Wartooth was almost certain he was seeing an angel.

He looked like a statue that one of the artists of his father’s congregation had fashioned to liven up the church: porcelain skin, perfect symmetry, eyes the color of heaven and hair cascading down his back in gold ringlets. It was the very same statue that Toki’s father had smashed before whipping the sculptor mercilessly for worshiping false idols. Toki remembered crying over how quickly the beauty had transformed into a pile of ugly, broken shards. A strange, conflicting thought had wormed its way deep into his mind that day: This is really what happens to us when we die…

Those doubts continued to pester him throughout his childhood. He found more comfort in the freedom of nature than in the ritualized prison of the church. This odd affinity for the environment that was usually despised by those unlucky enough to inhabit it led to accusations that he was embracing the paganism of his heathen ancestors. This shamed his father deeply, and Toki was often punished for neglecting his chores to count the rings on a tree stump or to daydream as he studied the clouds.

Every so often something would draw his faith back to Christianity, like an abusive spouse luring his battered wife back into the cycle with gifts and false promises. Toki’s numb hands curled tightly around his forgotten broom as he watched the angel move about the clearing. He hoped desperately that this creature was sent to him personally by God, to rescue him from frozen Hell, to reward him for the years of suffering he had to endure.

But the angel did not notice Toki, hidden shyly behind a maple tree. He did not even seem to know where he was going; his body jerked around in the wind like a tangled marionette, his head pivoting this way and that as his eyes jumped from tree to tree, from snow pile to snow pile. Along with this distinct lack of angelic grace Toki also noticed that what he had previously mistaken for wings was merely the hood of a fur coat.

The man hunched over, producing a lighter and a cigarette from the deep pocket of his coat. He flicked the lighter, cursing loudly every time the flame was extinguished by the wind. The sight of this earthly indulgence confirmed what Toki had already known was true: this was no angel, but a man. A mortal. The world was just full of them and it was nothing short of disappointing.

The snow he had been sent to sweep was piling up around his feet, soaking through his sneakers and stinging his toes with cold. Toki was just about to return to his chores when something caught his eye. The blond man had turned his back to the wind, having finally managed to light his cigarette. From this new perspective Toki saw that the fur coat was stained with something bearing an uncanny resemblance to blood. The entire right side seemed to be covered with it. And this time it was not just his imagination running wild.

Toki drew closer to the tree he'd been peering around, rubbing idly at an itch in his nose with the wooden handle of his broomstick. He was starting to feel uneasy about this situation but at the same time he was entranced by the mystery of it. It was like reading a novel, urging the character to turn back but also sharing in his desperate curiosity about what lie ahead. Toki hadn’t read a book besides the Bible in years, not since his father had used all of Toki’s novels to supplement a particularly measly supply of firewood a few winters ago.

The wind was calmer now and Toki could hear the blond man muttering softly to himself as if trying to communicate with the smoke that leaked out from his slightly parted lips. The man’s erratic, paranoid behavior made him feel uneasy, perhaps more than the blood, which could have, God willing, belonged to an animal. Nevertheless his curiosity kept him rooted to his spot, determined to solve the mystery of this man.

Toki continued to scrape the tip of the broomstick absently against his nose, though it did nothing to quell the itch. On the contrary it only seemed to be making it worse, a fact he was unaware of until his eyes began to water, a telltale sign that a sneeze was coming. Releasing the broom to curl his fingers around his nose, Toki bobbed forward, grazing his forehead against the rough bark of the tree in the process. “Hhktissh’aa!”

He cringed as the broom landed with a wet thunk in the snow. Pressed his knuckles against his nose, he watched through watery, half-lidded eyes as man in the clearing glancing around warily. Abandoning his curiosity, Toki backed up slowly, his fist still pressed firmly against his pulsating nostrils. His father would kill him for leaving the broom behind but he couldn’t risk exposing himself to a potentially dangerous man.

Though that was exactly what ended up happening. His foot caught on a tree root and he stumbled backwards, releasing a yelp of surprise as he tumbled into the cold snow. He was still for only a moment before his body seized up with a loud “HhkTSSH’ahh!” that, to his horror, seemed to echo around the forest.

He could see the blond man’s head snap at once in his direction. Toki allowed himself a brief moment of eye contact with those chilling blue eyes before pushing himself to his feet and staggering off in a clumsy sprint. Behind him he could hear the foreign voice crying out, growing fainter as he ran, his heart dancing nervously behind his ribcage.

Edited March 4, 2011 by AnonyMouse

[kilala]

I just found this one too, I am extremely intriuged by it. I'm guessing the blond man is Skwisgaar? And Toki is just too cute for words, and I always love anything about his past or from his childhood. I don't know if you were planning to continue or not but I'll definitely read it if you do.

And I think you do a wonderful job on everything, you are a fantastic writer

Edited May 1, 2011 by kilala