Mascot "Kumi" © 2005 Chastain & Fan Works Inc. All Rights Reserved. Mascot "Kumi" © 2005 Chastain & Fan Works Inc. All Rights Reserved.
 
Memorial - In Loving Memory of Chester Gregorich, 1981-2005
Home | Directory | Help & Tools | Just In! | [Search]
[Log In | Join]
Musicians/Music Groups Fan Fiction >> Avenged Sevenfold

The following is a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

 

[View Printer Friendly Version]

Move Your Body
By SteffiSevenfold

 


What is this feeling?

This blood pumping eagerly, these limbs thrashing and crashing, this adrenaline pounding thgouh my entire body.

My fingers are tingling and the sensation rushes and rises up my arms, spreading throughout me, rolling down my spine.

Something's on my nose and just for a split second, it hurts.

But then it's gone and I'm stumbling over legs, I'm dancing around arms and hurling bodies.

Whose idea was this?

This is amazing and I feel so alive!

I don't feel physically. I don't know that there are fists being thrown at my pretty face.

I don't know that chains are slashing my skin.

I just know that my entire body tingles and this is going to suck come tomorrow.

The crowd simmers down, but I'm still being rocked and tossed around.

I'm sweating profusely and it stains my black shirt blacker.

My breathing is erratic.

My heart's crazy.

Cheers and claps everywhere, but I was never aware of the music.

I wait and wait but nothing happens.

The bass doesn't kick, the mic doesn't scream and legs don't kick.

“Thank you guys so much. We had a great time,” the band says.

And that's it.

That's it!?

The set seemed so short, like it just started.

I check my watch. Oh.

They've played for forty five minutes.

I make my way outside and the cool May night air hits my face, batters my sweat soaked shirt.

I need fresh air, but I find my fingers reaching for my cigarettes and placing one between my plump lips.

I find my Jack Daniel's Zippo, flip it open, flick the flint, light my smoke and close the lighter all with one hand.

I inhale deeply and make a face as the smoke rolls down my lungs.

I find a little stoop and sit down, looking at the crowds of kids all over the parking lot.

It feels so good.

Nothing's better than a cigarette after a mosh pit.

This chick Val, a great friend of mine, sits down next to me and I give her a smoke and light it for her.

She touches her fingertip to my nose and I can hardly feel it.

“You're bleeding,” she says as she shows me her finger, red coating the tip.

I chuckle and say, “I guess,” and she smiles and shakes her head in disapproval, but she knows how I love everything about a pit so she just lets it go.

I flip my septum ring up into my nose so it doesn't get tugged out tonight.

She looks into my jade eyes and I smile.

I finish my smoke and stomp it out.

“I'm gonna go back in. Get a good spot.”

She nods and bids me goodbye, says she'll see me later.

Then I'm back inside and the warmth hits me like a house of bricks.

I go up the stairs, to this balcony type of thing and order a water from the guy behind the counter.

I pay and chug the water, desperate to get back to the floor.

The band's getting set.

They're called Oh Constantine and they're huge in the local scene.

I wish that my band, Avenged Sevenfold, could get that popular, too.

The first song erupts and people seem to pour from the walls.

I can't feel, but I'm flying.

Flying over peoples legs, arms, heads, everything.

My arms swing, my fist collides with something.

I wipe somebody else's sweat off my knuckles.

Then I hear a shout.

It makes my ears perk up with the words it says, with the promises it holds.

“Wall of Death!”

Agreeing yells and shouts sound. I'm one of them.

We wait until the kids in the middle of the floor, two stepping and picking up pennies and wind milling, stop.

Then they step over to each side.

We link arms, twelve people deep on one side, four people deep on the other, arms linked from wall to wall.

It's quite a sight.

And I'm so glad that I'm in the front row.

The band realizes what we're doing and kind of seems amazed.

Like, wow, our music drives people to do this? We really must be good after all!

The two sides off the room kind of stare at each other for a minute, pulled with adrenaline, waiting for the breakdown.

We've all seen Oh Constantine before.

We all know their songs.

And we all know it's coming.

A slight pause in the music, just for a second.

We all get ready, tightening our arms around each others.

A deep, monstrous growl sounds, like a signal to us to all start running.

The bass picks up, the drums pound, the guitar screams.

“Let's go!”

The amp sings, the demonic growl makes us run.

Like two cars in oncoming traffic, about to collide, about to morph into one.

These two walls come together, closer, closer, closer.

Crash.

Our arms somehow come unlinked with the force.

They call it a Wall of Death for a reason.

I slam right into somebody and nearly go sprawling to the floor.

The only thing that stops me from doing so is somebody who picked me up.

I didn't have time to say thanks, or to even see who my savior was, because I was being thrown into somebody else.

The crowd simmers down again and I'm rocked around, shouting and singing to the song.

Hell. . . this is the best time of my life.

- - -

Lame. Sucky story, sucky ending, but fuck it.

Going to a local show tomorrow and I'm pretty stoked.

They truly are where my heart is.

You haven't been in a pit?

Then go. Go now. You won't regret it.

I wish some of you guys lived where I do.

I'd love to go to a show with some of you. Seem like you'd be >crazy<.

Butt thanks so much for the reviews on my Dance With The Devil story.

I'm glad it made you shake and shiver, and I mean that in the best way possible.

<333

 

The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

[Return to Top]

TOS  |  Privacy Policy  |  Questions/Comments?  |  Found a bug?  |  Report violations of the TOS
Powered by E-FanWorks v3.9.9b © Null Referrence Software 2003-2006