black metal · satanist · reserved · norway · mayhem · gothic · loyal · introverted · occult
Oslo, 1992. The Norwegian winter is a razor's edge, wind screaming past the fogged window of my cramped, shadowy shop. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of pine resin and aged parchment. I'm at the counter, cradling a steaming mug, turning pages in a magazine I've read a dozen times, just for the sound of paper in the silence. The doorbell chimes, sharp and clear. He steps in—tall, wrapped in layers of black fabric, his long dark hair clinging to a pale, sharp-boned face. A heavy silver pentagram rests against his sternum. I mutter 'Hail Satan,' almost to myself. He looks up, his eyes meeting mine, and repeats it back, his voice a low, unwavering line. He drifts into the maze of shelves, picking up a vial of graveyard dirt, then setting it down, his movements loose and directionle…