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The Dethdealer	By : SamhainVoodoo Category: +M through R > Metalocalypse Views: 1205 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse or its characters. They belong to Brendon Small. I am not making any money off of this.

Chapter List
- 1-The Dethdealer
- 2-That Voodoo you do
- 1
- 2
Months began to pass since Dethklok’s manger, Charles Ofdensen, returned to power and regained control over the band’s finances. Most of the Klokateers that were driven out of Mordhaus in search of income to survive were recruited to their previous positions. There were a few that didn’t come back for their various reasons. When finances stabilized, they began the process of hiring new recruits.

It was the same process each time; Hundreds of potentials enter Mordhaus in hopes of being employed, but literally only half are accepted. They were all gathered in the main hall listening to a speech presented by Ofdensen. He scanned the room, taking in the faces of the hopefuls. There seemed to be an extraordinary surplus of women hopefuls this year. There was always a lot of women who tried out for a Gear, but most of them perished in the battle. It was always a shame to lose so many, but that was the way things worked.

He exited the stage, letting the automated video of Facebones take over the instructions for the hopefuls to pair up and fight to the death with their bare hands. There was always a moment of hesitation with a few. They always had the same look of “Is this real?” on their faces.

But it was very real. In an instant, the room exploded into violence. Many disregarded the “pair into groups of two” instruction and just went on a killing spree. Some joined forces to gang up on the hopefuls. There was a large group of women who worked together and protected each other in the massive battle.

They noticed a girl with unnatural orange hair taking a beating from a gang of men when they decided to intervene. She stayed on the ground, catching her breath and spitting blood onto the black cement.

“You okay?” A brown haired girl asked, offering a hand to help the orange haired one up. She took it and affirmed her health. She flashed a smile and introduced her name as “Samhain” before breaking away to be on her own again, diving into another battle.

A sudden burst of insanity caused a perfect distraction. Something was happening with one of the female hopefuls, and Nathan Explosion of all people was getting involved. Samhain wasn’t paying attention to ordeal, but instead taking advantage of the confusion it was causing. She began beating her opponents with an insane fury, grinning the whole time.

She flew at a fighter, tackling him to the ground. Once he was on his back, she straddled his chest, beating his face in with her fists. When she started to lose strength, she wrapped her hands around his throat and squeezing hard. Her muscles burned and her knuckles screamed in pain, but she ignored it. When he was dead she eased back, breathing hard. She didn’t get much time to relax, however, before another girl wrapped her arms around her neck. Samhain croaked a gasp of surprise, clawing at the other girl’s arms. She manage to squirm enough to sink her teeth into her flesh. The girl howled in pain and went limp.

Samhain quickly regained control, spun around, and pushed her to the ground. A growl of excitement escaped her lips and she smiled; her teeth were dripping with blood that wasn’t just her own. With animalistic glee, she pounced on the girl, pressing her knees into the girl’s thighs and pressing her arms into the cement. The pain pulsing through the girl’s body was excruciating, but it suddenly intensified to a blinding climax as Samhain’s teeth tore into her throat. She shook her head with the flesh in between her front teeth, digging for the artery. She grasped it and pulled back with all her strength, hearing it snap sickeningly.

The girl gurgled in her own blood but shortly bled to death. Samhain’s teeth ached horribly and she spat blood, flesh, and arterial matter onto the ground. She heard silence and noticed that the battle was over, and she was causing a bit of attention.

The majority of the reactions were those of horror, but a few had impressed looks on their own blood stained and bludgeoned faces. Nathan Explosion was still in the hall. He was at the doorway with a girl in his arms, looking as if he was on the verge of leaving but the commotion Samhain had caused prevented him from doing so. He looked as if he were terrified of her, but at the same time, she could see him mouth the word “metal” before he exited with the broken girl in his arms.

Samhain stood up from the corpse and nodded towards the group of girls whom had helped her earlier in the battle. They slowly approached her, wary of her mental stability. She smiled, seeming to be calm.

“I get a little carried away sometimes. Plus I didn’t smoke today so I’m a little wired.” She mentioned casually as if the only crime she was guilty of was getting into a hissy fit, not brutal murder. She wiped at her mouth but was not able to rid her skin of the blood that stained it. She was soaked in it. It clung to her hair, making it clump and knot in places. It soaked into her white tank-top, making her nipples hard and visible through the material. She cursed herself for picking that day to wear a white shirt.

Ofdensen had returned to the stage and began another speech of instructions for the new Gears. They were to stay in a holding room while he go over their paperwork and begin preparations for their branding ceremony.

Like a massive herd, the were rounded into the holding room which was equipped with furniture for them to lounge a bit. Samhain wasted no time in collapsing in a chair. She wasn’t the athletic type by any means, and her muscles were screaming in agony and shaking. She knew she was going to be in pain the next day.

The group of girls sat around her. They began introducing themselves and striking up conversations. Other survivors from the battle joined in the conversation as well. They talked about professions they did previous to the move to Mordland. Some didn’t actually work, like Samhain, who’s “profession” was that of a drug dealer and marijuana grower. She bragged about her green thumb when it came to the controversial plant and the assorted envied types she was able to produce.

They spent hours in the holding room, each of them being called out one by one to receive their gear number and job at Mordhaus. A girl whom had identified herself earlier as “Toasty” was excitedly talking about her gear number and job when she had come back from the session. She was very excited to receive the responsibility of corpse detail. She also explained that first they play to strengths and previous professions to better Mordhaus; like for example if someone was previously a doctor, they could work in the medical ward.

This information helped Samhain for making her decision for brining in her backpack for a sample of her product. She was really hoping to continue growing her pot, but it was very possible that she wouldn’t be able to once she signed on to being a Gear.

After a few more hours, Samhain was called into the office of Charles Ofdensen. She was very surprised that he was the one personally handing down the responsibilities. She had thought he’d be the type of person who would delegate that kind of work to another Klokateer. She certainly wasn’t expecting him to be there or for him to be accompanied by Pickles the drummer.

Samhain choked a little bit in their presence, but managed to keep her emotions in check. Her mind was screaming at her to keep quiet and not show her excitement. She couldn’t be seen as a fan girl; she couldn’t risk her new job that she just literally killed for over her female hormonal emotions.

As well as Samhain did at masking her emotions, Pickles however wasn’t so tactful. He immediately let out a disgusted sound of shock as she looked at him. He jumped a little towards Ofdensen, who remained militant.

“Dood! The hell’s up with ‘er eyes!?” The drummer exclaimed, visibly freaked out. “’N she looks like she’s been eatin’ someone! Dood, the point was tah kill yer oponent, naht play in their blood!”

She opened her mouth to reply, but closed it, thinking about how she needed to word her sentences. Toasty and a few of the others had given some advice on how the Gears interacted with Dethklok.

“It’s a birth defect, m’lord.” She finally answered his mostly rhetorical question about her discolored eyes. Her left eye was a deep red, and her right a very light brown that was as close to yellow as humanly possible. In the light, it looked very much yellow and gave off a sickly look, especially with the dried blood on her face as a contrast. “Brain defect when I was born and I’m now nearly blind in my left eye. My depth perception took the worst hit, m’lord. My apologies for my appearance, sir. I suppose I got a little over zealous.”

She gave a small bow while talking to him, redirecting her eyes away from him as to not offend him so much. He quieted when Ofdensen cleared his throat.

“Your application says your name is Samhain, is that correct?” She affirmed. “Most everything is in order, however, I called Pickles in here because of what you put as your previous profession.”

“Afdensen thought I’d want tah be here tah see if yer any use tah us here. Yer a dealer? Whatcha deal?”

Samhain couldn’t hide the grin from appearing on her stained face. “I dealed mostly in pot, but I have great hook-ups when it comes to other stuff like X and other pills, m’lord. My pot is home grown and in my personal opinion, some of the best shit you could ever get your hands on.”

“I kainda doubt that.” Pickles was quick to disbelieve her. “I’ve been smokin’ since I was like ten. Had like kiddie glaucoma er somethin I dunno. Anyway it’s gotta be like GOOD good shit tah even affect me anymore.”

Samhain bit her lip for a moment, but didn’t want to give up. She dug around in her backpack until she produced a sandwich bag filled with exotic looking buds. She smiled again and pulled out a glass bowl to go with the pot.

“Care to try? If you don’t like it then I’ll take another job or I’ll even leave if you want me too.” She waited for him to give her the okay, but he just looked at her with a bit of caution. “Want me to smoke some first to prove it’s not like poisoned or anything?” He finally nodded towards her and also to Ofdensen who was just as, if not more, concerned.

Samhain dug in her bag for one more item: a small metal grinder. She put a sufficient nugget into the grinder to separate the stems and seeds from the fragrant plant. Once she was satisfied, she packed the purple and green glass bowl. She felt around her pockets for her lighter, but came up empty handed. Ofdensen dug in his desk and produced an expensive looking Zippo lighter for her to use. She thanked him and lit the bowl, inhaling deep and holding the T.H.C.-riddled smoke in her lungs before coughing it out and continuing to cough hard. When she caught her breath, she straightened up and smiled wide then passed the bowl and Zippo to Pickles.

“I needed that so much.” She murmured euphorically, bracing herself against the wall.

Pickles stared at her while he lit the bowl, taking a long hit. He tried to remain skeptical for the sake of being stubborn, but the pot was taking effect almost immediately. His eyes rolled into his head slightly and he began to cough wildly. When he steadied himself he felt so high that he actually swayed a bit and had to lean on Ofdensen’s desk. He couldn’t even remember the last time pot did that to him.

“Gad damn!” He finally spoke, unable to resist the smile creeping on his lips. He passed the bowl back to her but instead of hitting again she offered to Ofdensen. He held his hand up in a polite protest, remaining ever militant. She shrugged and took another hit and passed it back to Pickles once more. “You grew dis?” She nodded. “’N you have more?” She nodded again. Pickles lit up again and hit it hard, trying to cash it out in one go. He got nearly there before he choked into a coughing fit again from the high quality of the plant. He gave her the bowl back, unable to take anymore and already wanting snacks and a nap. Ofdensen was even beginning to feel a little light-headed from the second hand smoke.

“Little miss White Widow. Always a crowd pleaser. And yes, M’lord, I have lots more, but not with me.” She finished the bowl and gave Ofdensen his Zippo back and used his ashtray to dispose of the residue from the bowl before putting it back in her backpack.

“What all would you require to grow enough for Dethklok?” Ofdensen asked, writing something on her paper work.

“Um, I guess just a room. My own if that’s at all possible, sir. I spent all my time with my plants and I think it overall affected their quality. I have the pots and stuff I use to grow them, but everything is at my home. I only brought a sample just in case. And I’m very happy I did bring that.”

Pickles was giggling slightly to himself and very quietly said something to Ofdensen. Samhain could swear she heard him say “Give her what she wants” but she couldn’t be sure.

Ofdensen cleared his throat again, signing more of the paperwork. “Well then, everything looks to be in order. If you require your own room to grow, then we can accommodate. However, you will only grow enough for what the rest of Dethklok asks, understood? You will not receive money per deals, but rather through a monthly employee paycheck. If you need money sooner for dealing purposes only, then you put it in writing and submit it to me alone for consideration. Also, the only drug allowed to be grown is Marijuana. I will not allow Mordhaus to turn into a meth-house, understood? If they ask for any manufactured drugs such as meth, heroine, cocaine, or anything else specified in this contract you’re about to sign, then you must seek an outside source to get it. You will not play “chemist,” understood?”

Samhain could only reply with “Yes sir” to his “understood?” questions. His tone was very stern and business, but of course that’s why he was there; to protect the members of Dethklok legally and physically. When he was done laying down basic ground rules, he handed her the contract that he had been making ammendments to as she and Pickles had been smoking. She scanned through it quickly, but didn’t see anything that she didn’t agree with and signed it.

“Very well. Samhain, you are gear number six, six, seven. Your job is that of a Dealer, or Dethdealer if you’d prefer. To make this completely official, you will be branded the mark of the gear shortly. Please join your fellow mates in the holding room once more and you will be called into the main hall when we are ready to give your brand.”
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The Dethdealer