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Hello, hello. I got bored and started writing something. Long time lurker, pretty much this board is my daily jam. I don't know how this will float, but first time writing in a while. My apologizes for the rough stuff. I liked the Keeperverse, idea as it is called that Kimmy has started. It's sort of a loose idea that has a lot of potential. The part I have written now is pretty basic, some introduction to place and people. More or less, sorry if there isn't a lot of meat here. More or less, I like the idea of seeing a pet on stage somehow, maybe a brutal pet. We'll see how it plays out. Just the thoughts bouncing in between puppy play, the ridiculousness of a lot of black metal and all that just got me to thinking. Anywho, I hope you like our little intro.

Brutal Pet

Part One

Ah, the Frossen Blodsekt Fest. Some of the headlining acts that they put together were legendary. The festival had started in 2000 in a small town outside of Gothenburg in Sweden. It wasn't quite as big as some of the summer festivals, but it was a lot of fun. You came there and bought a pass for the three day event. It was held towards the end of summer, on the tail end of the main tourist season for the town. Little did I know my first trip to that region would change my life forever.

 

I'd always wanted to go to some of the metal music festivals. I'd seen pictures and heard about them in America, but my finances and course load had prevented me from doing anything of the sort. My luck changed when I was able to travel abroad. I was there in the south of Spain in the summer of 2005. The program had me going there for a few semesters while studying the history and literature of the region. My farthest trips thus far had been to Barcelona and Madrid. I adored Barcelona, taking my time to visit some of the art museums up there on the weekends. I met one of my good friends, Javier, at the Picasso museum there. We'd both bugged out early to hit up some of the smaller museums and found out we both shared a love of music in general. It turned out he was in the same program as me in the the university of Murcia, the perennial question of which I received was why would I want to go there. (Cost is a factor folks, but I did enjoy the area.)

 

On one particular Thursday, I was sitting in the student cantina enjoying a bocadillo with a soda. I was hunched over my course work, messily devouring the sausage and cheese sandwich, when I felt a slap on the back of my undershaved head.

 

“Eh, Amazona, you're going to get a hunch back if you keep sitting like that.”

 

I coughed, choking on a bit of sausage, a few strands of blond hair getting in my eyes.

 

“Dammit, Javier. You almost made me choke on my sausage.”

 

“Eh, I know you ladies like a bit of sausage now and again.”

 

“Shut the hell up Javier. You scarf down way more sausage than I do, ya jerk.”

 

“Eh, you know I do chica. Particularly the sausage of big blonde,viking...”

 

I slapped the back of his head, sending his dark pony tailed hair flying. He smiled cordially and raised his hands up in a defensive gesture, then shifted the olive rucksack on his shoulder.

 

“I only speak the truth, Amazona.”

 

“Pfft, whatever Javier.”

 

I gestured grandly over my messy paperwork. Notes and books were scattered on the table, along with my midday meal.

 

“ Blargh. I love Góngora, but I hate diagramming poems. Tell me Javier, why are the professors on both sides of the pond obsessed with this crap?”

 

Javier took the seat next to mine at the table, glancing over my course work. He tossed his bag to the side of the wooden table, adjusting his black shirt and jeans.

 

“I think it is a conspiracy,” he shifted closer, “to keep their tenure. They meet in secret teacher's unions to plan what they call “lesson plans” and keep things boooring...”

 

“So vast. It all seems so perfectly normal, like daily life.”

 

“Little did they know we would catch on.”

 

“And now we must stop them.”

 

“But how? But how?”

 

“Clearly, we have to purify them with the sounds that will melt their minds and their insides...”

 

“Ah yes, the gospel of rock and roll.”

 

I leaned back, stretching, then pulling my Moribund Angel t-shirt back down. I let out an overly dramatic sigh and put my head in my hands.

 

“Heretic that I am, I feel as if I have lapsed in my listening of the holy sound.”

 

“No, chica, no! Say it isn't so!”

 

“Yes, I have lost my way.”

 

“Why would you say that Ana? Oh, my dear and beautiful amazon. Now, there will be no Valhalla for you.”

 

“I know. It's so sad.”

 

I opened up my hands slightly, allowing one of my hazel eyes to peep through.

 

“Unless...”

 

“Unless?”

 

“...Unless, we go to the Moribund Angel concert that I happen to have another ticket for.”

 

Javier's dark eyes widened, a toothy grin appearing on his goateed face.

 

“You're kidding?”

 

“Nah, man. I managed to score us some tickets.”

 

He reached around and slapped me on the back. I chuckled.

 

“Is it your purpose today to beat up a lady today, Javier?”

 

“If there's a lady here, let me know. No, I mean, it's just,” he looked thoughtful for a moment, “I thought the tour they were on was sold out for months.”

 

“Nope,” I tapped my nose, “I have a man on the inside. You remember my cousin, right?”

 

“Let's see...” Javier thought. “From the pictures I remember, looks: tall, blonde, handsome, and works as a roadie?”

 

“That'd be the one. Apparently, he managed to get on their detail through another band, Goat Horde. Anyway, Bobby, managed to score some tickets as a birthday gift.”

 

“Brutal. When are they playing?”

 

“The Saturday after next, at El Código Infernal.”

 

Javier leaned back in the white plastic chair and stretched. He patted my right leg, his hand paused over my cargo pants' lower pocket.

 

“You never go anywhere without that camera, eh?”

 

The camera he was referring to was a small Nikun I kept on my person. I had and have a passion for photography. It was the smallest and most sturdy camera in the price range that would still accept different lenses.

 

“Eternally, my friend. That, my cell phone, my I-pud, and my small notepad.”

 

“Ready to rock at a moment, eh?”

 

“You know it brother.”

 

“Well, I hate to cut this short Ana, but I need to get on to class.”

 

Javier stood up from the table and shouldered his pack. He scooted the chair under and gave me a stern look.

 

“Now, don't you go taking any other handsome Colombian gentlemen to this, Amazona.”

 

I rose from the table too now, gathering up my items, shoving them into a beaten up black satchel that was covered in band patches. When standing at my full height, I'm usually about a head taller that most females and some males, like Javier.

 

I patted him on the head and looked around the room.

 

“Well, I'll let you know if I see any, short stack.”

 

He shoulder butted me in the stomach. I laughed.

 

“Well, if you do,” he shouted back at me, “Send them my way. I'll see you when I get back after class.”

 

I pushed in my chair and he paused at the entrance of the cantina.

 

“Hey, could you pick up some chorizo for dinner tonight? I want to make some with rice.”

 

I nodded in the affirmative, giving him a mock salute.

 

“Aye, aye, Capitán. Do we need anything else? Salad or something for Muriel? Beer?”

 

“Yes, beer. Definitely beer. And yeah, maybe some black beans or something so I can make a vegetarian dish for her.”

 

“You got it brother. I'll see you later tonight.”

 

With that we both left the cantina, Javier to his classes and me returning to our shared student apartment. Leaving the cantina, I surveyed the campus. Piles of dirt surrounded the premises as the area was undergoing something of a growth spurt at that point. We both went to classes in some of the older buildings, although the professors said we would be moving to one of the new buildings in the spring. I walked down the road and popped my purple earbuds in my ears. The brutal sounds of Moribund Angel's Altars of Insanity filled me. I bobbed my head along with the music as I walked down to the bus stop. As I rounded the corner and odd sight caught my eye. Well, odd to me anyway.

 

A dark haired woman in her mid thirties had a harness on a smaller woman. I blinked momentarily, while watching them walk leisurely down the sidewalk. The younger of the two woman, who wore the harness,chatted away eagerly about something or other while her handler chuckled politely and nodded occasionally. The young woman had her dark auburn hair french braided, bore no top, and a diaper. She gestured excitedly about with what I noticed to be black cat like mittens on her hands. I caught a word or two in Spanish, muñeca and comida. So I guess, they were going to eat and get the girl a toy? I popped one of the ear buds out of my ear and shook my head out of my reverie upon seeing the bus stop. Apparently, we were both headed to the same spot.

 

I gave a long sideways glance at the odd couple. It was the first time I had actually seen what they call a “pet” and a “keeper.” The older woman smiled at me and waved. I waved back. There were still a few minutes before the bus arrived.

 

“Hola, niña,” the older woman greeted me with a smile.

 

“Hola, senorita,” I smiled warmly at her.

 

“Are you a student here?”

 

I nodded. The younger girl was still chattering on about her future toy.

 

“Shush, Isabella,” she said to the energetic young lady, “I am talking to this nice young lady.”

 

The younger girl meeped and uttered a shy apology. I chuckled.

 

“No, you're fine sugar. I have to ask, is that your daughter?”

 

The woman laughed and shook her head.

 

“No, no. Isabella isn't my daughter,” She patted the Isabella on the head, which the girl let out a contented purr upon receiving the affection, “We actually met at the park after I took my son to school one day.”

 

I raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

 

She nodded, “Yes. It hits you just that fast.”

 

I cocked my head. “What hits you?”

 

“The boooond,” Isabella chirped and jumped up excitedly.

 

“The bond?”

 

“Sí, senorita. It's like... It's like this whole swimming in an ocean of looooove.”

 

Isabella gave the older woman a big hug.

 

“And I loooove my Marina!”

 

“Aye, pet. You're a good one Isabella,” Marina chuckled.

 

The young woman simply glowed at the compliment.

 

“That is why you are getting a toy, because you're such a big help to my little Arturo. You're so good at math. Yes you are!”

 

I was somewhat floored. I heard about the whole pets and keepers thing back in the states, but I had never seen one. I lived close to a town called Rome in north Georgia, which was small. My hometown was even smaller. It was mostly farms with a few suburban-lite neighborhoods. I think I'd heard of maybe one or two couples that were that way, one of which went to my Granddaddy's church. The one girl, I think, belonged to an older matron in the church and her name was Judy, I believe. Oddly enough, everyone loved Judy and she'd constantly be in the nursery somewhat out of need, but for the other part is she was great with kids. She was always “properly” clothed in light gauze dresses from what I had heard. I don't know all the details, my mom never took us to church, really. She was sort of the beloved black sheep of our family. Either way, it was a little surprising to see a young woman so casually topless and fancy free. I didn't know. I supposed pets ran a bit hotter than most people.

 

Isabella jostled me out of my thoughts by playfully jumping into me. Marina shot her a stern look. The pet whined momentarily, before Marina petted her head.

 

“Do you have a pet,” asked Isabella innocently.

 

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. I'd never thought about such a thing. I shook my head.

 

“Oh,” she replied sadly, “ I think you'd be a reaaaaallly good keeper. You're so big and confident and pretty! And...”

 

Isabella prattled on.

 

I smiled awkwardly as the bus pulled up.

 

Marina touched my shoulder and smiled.

 

“Anyway, niña. It was nice to meet you. Looks like our bus is here.”

 

“So it is,” I smiled.

 

“What is your name, niña?”

 

“Oh, uh, Annabelle Persson.”

 

Marina extended out her hand and I shook it. She stepped up onto the bus.

 

“Well, it was nice to meet you Sra. Persson,” Marina gestured with her head to Isabella, “Say goodbye to the nice young lady, Isa.”

 

“Goodbye Ana!” Isabella gave me a wet kiss and with that they shuffled to the back of the bus.

 

I stood there mulling over my encounter, before stepping onto the bus. I popped my earbud back in my ear and took a seat towards the front. The sweet sounds of Emperor Emerald's keening vocals soon washed away my encounter with the couple. I became so enraptured with the lyrics in his story album, Abby, that I nearly missed my stop. I pulled the cord and quickly exited the bus at the department store in front of our apartment, El Corte Frances.

 

The glittering glass facade of the department store greeted me as I left the stop. I think they had put it up in the last few years, as it was one of the only buildings that didn't have secondary price listings in pesetas still. It was a tall two story affair, with tons of clothing, electronics, and all the household knickknacks one could want. Personally, I really liked their deli and bakery. I indulged in their tiramisu frequently, with either Javier or Muriel stealing a piece on occasion.

 

Bastards. They needed to get their own. Grumble grumble, but I didn't really mind.

 

I entered the divinely cool store and made a b-line for the basement, where they stocked the groceries. I picked up the chorizo, some black beans, salad fixings, and a few sweet potatoes, so Muriel could bake them with honey. She needed to bake them with honey. I would make her bake them for us because I would serenade her with Moribund Angel songs until she would. I love music, but I have a terrible voice. Muriel would make the potatoes. I chuckled darkly to myself about my evil plan as I checked out. With my groceries in hand, I made my way to my secondary destination, our Beerhalla, or the local chino. Think of it like a little corner store, but a bit better. They were chiefly ran by Chinese immigrants to Spain, hence the nickname for the stores.

 

I rounded the block and crossed the road. I opened the door and yelled a greeting.

 

“Good afternoon Su!”

 

“Afternoon, Ana!” Su yelled from the back, “We got some more Golden Galleon up front!”

 

It was a clean shop, but a bit cramped. I went down the first of the refrigerated aisles and found my promised prize. I shifted my shopping form El Corte Frances, and my satchel. I grabbed two twelve packs of the Golden Galleon and made my way up to the register where Su was now standing. He looked down at the beer, shook his head, and smiled up at me.

 

“Celebrating something, Ana?”

 

I grinned at him, “You bet.”

 

“Someone's birthday? You know, we have a special on some of the wine too.”

 

“Not really,” I shook my head, “I just got tickets for the Moribund Angel concert coming up.”

 

I gestured to my shirt. Su nodded sagely.

 

“Ah yes, beer and the music. Very important.”

 

“Very important,” I confirmed, “Plus I don't have to put up with Javier's whining for weeks on end by missing out on the concert.”

 

Su ran his fingers through his short black hair, furrowing his brow.

 

“How is Javier doing? He seemed pretty down last week.”

 

I shrugged, “Same old short stack. His boyfriend broke up with him. He pouted for a few days, but he seems back to his old self in any case.”

 

Su nodded and slipped in a small chocolate bar. “Just in case he still seems to be feeling down.”

 

I nodded.

 

“You're a good man Su.”

 

He shrugged noncommittally.

 

“You are some of my best customers. I like to show a little appreciation, what can I say.”

 

“Thanks, Su. I'll see you tomorrow.” I paid, waved goodbye to him, and left the shop.

 

Crossing back over the road, I headed towards home. Along the way, my shopping started to get a bit heavy so I stopped at a wall that was plastered with concert posters, featuring upcoming shows. Boys to Dogs, lame. Cruxtshades, I was surprised they could actually make it over. They were a bigger deal than I had thought. Then, I saw it, the flier for the show Javier and I would be going to in a couple of weeks:

 

BLOODBOUND TOURS PRESENTS: MORIBUND ANGEL, IRISH CROSS, CANNONBALL CORPSE...

 

...And some other bands I hadn't heard of either. Brutal. I loved finding out about new bands. The poster was quite large and featured pictures for quite a few of the bands. Towards the bottom, one of the bands caught my eye. My lips drew back into a sneer when I saw the last band on the list: Fisk Bestemor. Literally, Fish Grandma, but with a fancy and well nigh unreadable typeface. Black metal. I leaned in closer and looked at the promo picture they had. Their singer looked like a well built gentleman, with really bad face paint. There were spikes upon spikes. Long hair. More spikes. More Satan. Spikes. If I had to put a picture next to the definition of the term, try hard, it would be that promo picture. I laughed and shook my head. It's not that I had anything against the sub genre, I liked bands like Enslavement. I'd give them a listen if I remembered them later on, before the concert.

 

I picked up my shopping and headed home. Three flights of stairs later, I was at our front door. I could of taken the elevator, but I liked the idea of building up my stamina more. I unlocked the baroque looking door to our apartment and called out:

 

“Yo, Muriel, I'm home!”

 

The delicate red head padded out from the back bedrooms towards me.

 

“Oh, hey Ana,” She took some of the shopping bags from my arms, “Oh, I see you have Golden Galleon! ...And some sweet potatoes!”

 

I chucked darkly and affirmed with a hearty, “YES!”

 

She wrinkled her freckled brow, looking up at me.

 

“I'm going to put on a concert just for you Muriel.”

 

Muriel frowned, heading towards the kitchen.

 

“Dammit Ana, you'd better not.”

 

“Oh yes ma'am, I am.”

 

She playfully hit me with the shopping bag as we entered the kitchen. Muriel began unpacking while I helped and started my evil concierto plan of getting her to make delicious sweet potatoes, until Javier would return in the evening.

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Pretty solid intro and I like how real you made all the characters feel. It seems like just another day in Spain, but maybe I'm wrong. I have heard that nudity is more welcomed there so, maybe the pets concept would work in such an environment/culture. 

 

You weren't kidding about the brutal metal. I mean, I like Burzum and some Emperor stuff, but I mostly lean towards melodic black metal and Sogna sound metal bands like Sigtyr and Windyr. I just discovered a band three months ago called Suotana that has a Kalmah like vibe. Still, it might not be brutal enough for you, but I thought I'd mention them.

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That was a good start. I loved Isabella and Marina! They were so cute together!

I'm not really into Metal. So much of the fluff of this story won't appeal to me. But thankfully (so far) that hasn't been necessary to the enjoyment of this story.

One little critique I have is that, unless I missed something, you didn't specify the main character's gender until nearly a 3rd of the way through the chapter. Up until then I thought she was a guy! Sure, Amazona is a fairly feminine name, but there were quite a few weird names in this. Plus when I heard her best friend was a guy, I guess my brain shortcutted to think she was a guy as well? Oh well, no big deal. In future works try to specify important details like that earlier on.

All in all, a great first chapter. Well worth a Like. :)

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Up to this point I loved it. I was just informed I am out of likes for the day or I would have been glad to give this one. I think you are doing an awesome job writing this and I am really looking forward to reading more. 

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