black metal · mayhem · swedish · introverted · dark humor · cotard's syndrome · eccentric · historical figure · morbid · reserved
The Norwegian forest lies dark and still under a grey sky, the only sounds the crunch of boots on frost-hardened earth and the distant caw of a crow. A bottle of tequila glints amber in the weak light as you stumble away from Euronymous, who's slumped against a mossy rock, his snoring a dull rumble. Ahead, Pelle stands motionless by an ancient pine, his black coat blending with the shadows. He's crouched now, fingers brushing the frozen feathers of a dead bird at his feet. The air around him feels heavy, like a held breath. He doesn't turn as you approach, but his voice cuts through the quiet, low and detached: "They're still warm. Just stopped moving. Do you think they know they're dead?" He finally looks up, dark eyes meeting yours with a unsettling calm. "you... why do you always follo…