Jerry's Story

Jesus fucking Christ! Now Devyn's got one of those goddamn recorders? First JD and then her, wonderful. Looks like we're starting a new fucking trend. I hope she's using that to remember ideas for songs and other band stuff, and not doing some whiny 'my life story' spiel like JD did. I swear to God, whenever I see JD pull that friggin thing out, I give thanks that my hearing is shot to shit. Oh well, whatever floats his boat I guess.

I stop strumming on my custom Warlock and put it back in its case and I catch a snippet of what Devyn's putting in her recorder. Christ, she is telling a whiny life story. I wonder if that's what Lance was bitching to her about. As much as I hate it, what she's saying sparks some memories. That redneck shithole back in Louisville named Ed's. I gotta admit, that was a pretty fun night.

As always, we kicked ass that night. Talon and Geneva were in top form. Geneva was going so fast I wondered if she was using a boost like I do sometimes. But anyway, about halfway through our set a couple of dumbasses started trading punches. Some other pussy bands might have stopped their set until it was over, but not Satan's Handbag, no sir. Oh, we stopped our song all right, but that was just so we could improvise some theme music for the brawl. Hey, anytime some hicks wanna beat the shit out of each other, I'm a happy guy.

So we finished the show and got our shit back in the truck, then we decided to hang around and party a little bit with the fans. After about an hour or so, we decided to head out into the city and find another bar to chill at. So that's how we got to 'The Stall', or if you want to be technical about it, 'The Last Call' if some of the letters weren't burnt out. So we go in and I damn near stop in my tracks.

This place looked so shitty, it actually made me wish we were back in Ed's. And what's blaring out from the jukebox? AC/DC. Shit, this place is just asking for a Satan's Handbag ass whooping. Anyway, the rest of the group goes and grabs a table while I head for the bar. The bartender mouths some words to me, but I don't hear anything. I shout at him to give me a beer and he winces a little. I guess I yelled a little to loud for him. Oh well, fuck him. If he can't handle a little noise, well that's his problem.

I glance back towards the table and see JD rolling his eyes at me for ordering a beer. I sneer and give him the finger. Like he should talk about me doing things that don't affect us anymore, Mr. Smokes Two Packs A Day. So I head back to the table and make my way through the cloud created by JD's cigarettes that hovers over the table. We aren't there for very long when things started to pick up.

This skank that looks like she took just one less whack from the Ugly Stick than Janet Reno walks up and starts bitching at Devyn about trying to steal her man or some such bullshit. I know we got a bunch of stares when we walked in, but I think that hardly constitutes trying to 'steal a man'. Stupid bitch. I see the smile creep onto Devyn's face and I know it's just a matter of time now. Then she grabs Devyn by the shoulder to turn her around and I know it's on now. The ho never even had a chance to bitch further cuz just as her mouth opened, Devyn's hand had grabbed her head and was slamming her face into her knee. Devyn may not be as fast as me, but she's pretty strong.

The bitch's head jerks back spraying us in blood, and my stomach grumbles at the smell of it. I didn't realize that I had used so much blood for speed during the show. Oh well, guess I'll just have to get some more. I see movement out of the corner of my eye and see the skank's 'man' coming out of the shitter and running over to help out his woman. I could just sit back and watch, Devyn could handle them both without a problem, but I'm itching for some action myself. So I decide to get involved.

I use some more blood to make myself fast, and the bar goes into slow motion around me. I grab the beer bottle and break it over the table and run over to hick. I'm moving so fast nobody even sees me move and I jab the broken bottle into the man's throat. As everything seems to speed back up I pull out the bottle and inhaled the sweet smell of spilled blood. I grabbed the man by his shoulder and the back of his head and clamped my mouth over the wound, gulping down the sweet fluid.

I guess I just lost myself in the moment or something, cuz the next thing that I realize is the sound of breaking glass. I drop the juicebag and turn and look to see Devyn throwing some dude through the plate glass window in the front of the place and following him out through it. I straighten up and see the rest of the bar's patrons staring at me in horror. I can imagine how I look to them, spiked purple hair, lots of visible tattoos, some piercings, blood soaked face and chest. They look so goddamned funny I just can't help laughing like maniac. I walk back and kick the door open and stride through, still laughing and then turn around and give them the heavy metal sign with both hands and my tongue hanging out. I hear the screech of tires behind me and turn and head for JD's Audi. Devyn beats me there and we hop in and speed off.

As I said, that was a great night. Lots of fun. I look back around the trailer and glance at Devyn, and see she has that look on her face again. Aw fuck, she's thinking about her past again. She must have had the dream recently. She's come up and talked to me about it before, confiding in me I guess. I don't know what she thinks I can do to help. Yeah, I am the priest of the pack, but not by choice. I was kinda shoved into the position by the others; they said that since I was Jewish, that I had to be the closest to some form of religious understanding or some such shit. The rest either didn't have a religion or didn't care. I mean, it's not like I was a practicing Jew. Yeah, still have my yarmulke with me and I ate kosher at times and did the whole Hanukkah thing, but I maybe did the Jewish thing for a total of maybe 3 weeks out of the year.

Hell, I was rocking out to metal at the tender age of 15. I never went to church or anything, and I did my fair share of weed and other drugs. I got arrested a few times, mostly for vandalism and once for stealing a car. But I got out of there in 6 months on that one, for 'good behavior' they said. Yeah right, I just never got caught. Stupid fucking pigs. Maybe that's what made the Sabbat grab me. Or maybe I was just picked randomly out of the crowd. I don't give a shit either way, I'm Sabbat now and the past doesn't matter. To quote Pantera, "Yesterday don't mean shit, cuz tomorrow's the day you have to face." Damn straight.

Anyway, so I was living in D.C. at the time and I was in a band called Devil Snot. That was my first band and we were hardcore. Not quite as hard as Satan's Handbag, but pretty damn close. I had just gotten my B.C. Rich Warlock custom made and delivered a few days before that. That guitar is my baby. I had seen Slipknot in concert a month before and I saw just how fucking cool that guitar looked and sounded when the lead guitarist played his, black with a custom inlay on the neck, the word 'HATE'. Anyhow, so we finished the show and took our stuff home and then I went back to the club to hang out. As I was leaving, something smashed me in the back of my head and everything went black.

When I came to, we were in a cemetery. Me, a bunch of sorority looking bitches, and a few other people, mostly preppy looking putz's. I could have easily kicked all their asses. Anyway, there was a group of about 6 people standing in front of us and told us that we were recruited by something called the Sabbat as soldiers in their holy war. They said that we were going to become vampires and if any of us survived the fight, we would be rewarded. Then they came at us and started latching themselves to people's necks. Then one started coming towards me, some Arabic looking motherfucker. I thought to myself, oh great, I get some freak that still holds a grudge over the Holy Land. When he reached out to grab me, I grabbed his outstretched wrist with my left hand and pulled. With my right arm, I smashed my elbow into his face and heard his nose break. He stumbled back and I took the opportunity to kick him in the balls and then jump on him and start to punch him.

Everything was going fine until the guy regained his senses and then he whooped my sorry ass like it was nothing. Shit, he wasn't even bleeding at all. I felt a sharp pain in my neck, which was then replaced by intense pleasure. The next thing I know, I'm buried in dirt up to my waist and I'm sucking on some chick's neck, drinking her blood. There is a powerful hunger in my gut that seemed to be getting weaker as I drank more. Finally I stopped and pulled myself the rest of the way out of the ground. I looked around at the others; there were the 6 weird fuckers and a couple of the preps and a couple of the sorority chicks. The six told us that we had to go into the city and cause as much havoc as we could, and if anyone tried to fight us, to kill them. They warned us not to try and escape or just run away, because if we did they would find us and kill us themselves. I could see the others were kind of worried about that, but I didn't care. I always had fun causing havoc; it would be just like old times.

So that's what we did, went and caused chaos. A couple of people showed up once, but one of them ran and the other said something about leaving the Camarilla's territory, whatever the fuck that meant. Well, all five of us jumped him and beat the shit out of him. Then we were running through the streets when something caught my eye. We were next to a music store and I saw this sweet looking guitar in the window and just had to stop and look. It was an Ibanez RG270DX, black body, jagged triangle neck inlays, dual humbuckers, in short, pretty friggin sweet. Then one of the sorority looking chicks grabbed me and told me to get my ass in gear. And that's how I first met Devyn. We kept going until we met some big guy who started beating all of us up at once, all by himself. His fingers had something like claws on them and he tore out the throat of one of the preps and started to kill the other one and the other sorority chick. Me and Devyn, we hauled ass and got away alive.

Anyway, a few hours later we ran into the group who grabbed us. They congratulated us on surviving and said our reward was that they would initiate us into the Sabbat. And to make a long story short, that's what they did. My sire started teaching me the powers of our clan, the Assamite antitribu, and tried to teach me what they were about. All that shit sounded stupid to me; I just wanted to play music. Well, he finally got fed up with me and we haven't talked since that day. At any rate, Devyn and me decided to make our own pack, and a band as well. I had gotten my guitar and amps and stuff from my house, and so we set out. After a little while we met up with Talon and Geneva, and shortly after that we met Lance. He said he wanted to be our manager and help us out, I really didn't care much one way or the other, but when he said he had a couple of roadies he could bring, I was all for it. Hell, if we didn't have to lug around our heavy shit ourselves, which was great. We aren't all as strong as Devyn.

Anyway, we also met JD about that time; I don't remember the details of it. Speaking of him, I think he's pulling over for something. He comes in and lets us know he's stopping to get gas and letting us get some fresh air. We pile out and I see Devyn heading over towards some nutcase in a skirt standing by a car with another dude and a chick. Guess she's into the cross-dressing kind. Lance is saying something about socializing and spreading info about the band. Yeah right, probably going off to find some guy to pack some fudge with. Queer. I head off towards the other end of the station to see what's over there and maybe see if I can pick a fight with a trucker. There are only a couple of rigs on this side, and I instantly focus on one of them. 'Course, it's hard to miss it. Country music blaring out of the open door, two superchunk truckers standing there talking, the one on the left with his arm around this really hot bitch who looks like she could be a body double in sex scenes for a cross between Salma Hayek and Jennifer Lopez.

I walk past them and check out the babe, and the trucker with his arm around her apparently takes offense. He sneers at me and holds her tighter, and I just chuckle and keep walking, until I hear what he says next. It was something that ended in, "fuckin' Jew." That stopped me in my tracks and I turned at glared at him. He started to act all tough and step up to me, but I turned on the afterburners and laid him down with a few quick punches. His buddy started to help, but after he saw how quick I dealt with his friend, he changed his mind and ran off. I walked back over to the chick and grabbed her ass and propositioned her. She smiled and we climbed into the unconscious fuck's truck cab. We went at it for about 30 to 45 minutes, and then I pulled out and said I was done. She complained that I hadn't cum yet; I just shrugged and said that she couldn't make me cum.

I got out and started heading back to our truck and almost got run over by another big rig driven by some hulking brute wearing a Cubs hat. I thought about flipping him off, but something about the way that guy looked made me think twice. I shook my head and ignored the insults floating at me from the bitch I just fucked. I walk up to the truck and see this anorexic looking whore walking funny away from the cab. I glance up at JD and give him the heavy metal sign and grin. Guess Lance wasn't the only one who was packing some fudge. I climb into the back and wait for the others to get back.

We're back on the road, heading for Washington, and I'm strumming my Warlock again, thinking up new riffs. This is the kind of life I was always meant to live, traveling the country, playing loud music, fucking chicks and killing people. God I love being a musician.

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