by Joe Zito
Looking like a whored out mannequin, he gazed at himself in the mirror and smiled. A feeling of hope rushed through him when he closed his eyes. It began snowing outside, just two days before Christmas 1987.
Blood Show
The crowd was primed and ready in the arena that night as they patiently watched the road crew prep the stage for the evenings headlining act. Black Sabbath played on the pa at a medium volume as the strong stench of marijuana chocked the arena. Anticipation lurked amongst the excited crowd on the floor, mainly due to the large circular platform dangling high above their heads. It looked as if it was a children’s size pool floating in midair although it was held up by chains. There were words written on the side but could not be made out.
Suddenly the doomy audio of Sabbath on the pa lowered and a small roar emitted from the crowd, only to be ambushed by Agorapocalypse Now by Agoraphobic Nosebleed playing extremely loud over the pa; so loud it sounds distorted.
Just as the audio violence hits, a large white banner falls behind the drum kit with vertical blood red streaks and a massive band logo colored red, and is followed by white banners being quickly thrown over the bands amps also displaying the same blood red streaks and band logo.
A loud roar erupts from the crowd as hundreds of fists and devil horns reach towards the arena ceiling. The crowd begins to sway back and forth, pushing towards the security railing as the fog machine fills the stage.
As the intense grind plays on the pa the large circular platform begins lowering towards the anxious crowd on the floor. A sea of hands rise up as rabid fans begin to crowd surf. The volume level of the crowd increases. A terrified girl holds on tight to her boyfriend covering her face in fear and another is pulled over the barricade by security over the railing.
Written on the pool like object is “No turning back, No fucking way out” in blood red on a white background. The crowd erupts even louder now! The people in the seats are standing up watching the out of control floor of metalheads.
Without warning the bottom of the circular platform opens up sending out a flood of dark, fake red blood onto the crowd. A mix of yells and raised fists, along with shocked covered mouths came from the people in the seats. Mayhem sets in as Katherine Kat’s vokills rape the pa and bloody, sweaty bodies slither across each other in adoring metallic bliss.
The grind attack quickly ends on the pa, but then the stage lights go out and only the stage lights. The remainder of the arena lights stayed on. The usual roar when the lights go out a concert ensues. There seemed to be a confused like chatter from the crowd as some thought they forgot to turn out all the lights, little did they know it was all part of the show.
A video projection begins to play on the white backdrop. It shows a young dark haired girl lying face down on what seems to be a garage floor. As she raises herself up blood flows from her long black hair. A horrifying and eerie instrumental constructed of violins plays on the pa. Unable to see her face she begins walking in slow motion towards a door. Her slow moving footsteps pound the pa with heavy thuds. When she begins to open the door her left hand slowly creeps up the side of the wall making its way to a light switch. The crowd begins to roar furiously. The eerie music ends as the bloody girl turns her head revealing one eye, and then flips the light switch off. A loud pop is heard over the pa as the house lights go out.
The bloody crowd is beyond electric.
The terrifying sound of the screeching violins blisters the pa. The effect of rumbling thunder adds to the horror show as red strobe lights electrify the stage.
Then from out of nowhere she appeared, under a bright white spotlight.
Blood drenched, she stands with a creepy, crooked stance, her head tilted to the side with blood dripping from her long black hair onto the stage. The dominant vokillist holds the mic stand with one hand as the other hand swings to her side holding a large butcher knife. From the shadows the other members take their places on the stage.
Streaks of blood flow down her leg from her white shorts as she stares hauntingly out into the crowd. The violin massacre continues on the pa as she begins to lick the large butcher knife. The blood queen had arrived and was ready to murder her blood soaked children of the night with metallic malice.
A piercing 1 2 3 4 hi-hat count off comes over the pa and the bloody heavy metal onslaught begins.
This is, Angel Bloody Angel!
Keri White was backstage that evening as the opening band took the stage. Up to this point she had interviewed a handful of bands and was very excited to land a job working as a writer for Metal Killer, the Midwest’s premier metal music webzine. So far Keri’s journalistic skills have granted her interviews with Goatwhore, Danzig and Slayer to name a few, and has been coined queen of the mountain in the world of metal journalism. This particular interview was different though. This was the big one as they say. But not for the shocking stage show that ABA presents, full of blood and loud guitars, and not for the high pitched screaming vokills of lead singer Lacy “loud” Larson. It was for her portrayal and glorifying of one of the most notorious murderers in the history of Indiana: Angel Larson, the one responsible for the “Bludenhale Massacre of 1974”, a horrendous and gruesome murder that took place in the small town of Bludenhale, Indiana back in 1974.
Angel Bloody Angel is adored by teenage metal sickos and hated by many, mainly the parents of the sickos, but what the hell do the parents know. The kids wanted their blood and metal, and ABA delivered it hardcore.
The muffled rumble of the roaring crowd and the opening band Kendra says Kill, crept through the concrete walls in the room where Keri waited patiently for her interview. A hard rain from a thundershower could be heard hitting the roof of the arena.
The waiting was the hardest part for Keri. Her chosen profession was one that left you at the mercy of the band. It was just part of it. You waited; waited for showers, catering, meet and greets, soundchecks. But she knew it would be worth it. Lacy Larson had taken the metal world by storm with her chilling onstage presence and downright scary as hell high pitched screaming vocals and Keri was ready to dig deep into the mind of the vocalist, but sometimes what you dig up isn’t what you thought it was. Some things should stay buried.
ABA tour manager Darrell Rock had been busy all day getting things ready for the evenings show. He literally had not sat down since the tour bus parked itself behind the arena at 11 a.m. It was a stressful job being a tour manager, especially for a band like ABA. When you have to direct and manage an entire road crew, set up catering, schedule a sound check, and not to mention keep track of three semi trailer’s one which is used just for fake blood alone, you have to keep you’re shit together. This is where Darrell excelled; keeping cool under pressure. Don’t blow your lid, keep your shit together, although lately it was becoming increasingly harder for Darrell to do just that. The kid from a small town in Indiana with nails in her throat and fire in her eyes had turned eerily similar to the monster she portrays onstage, and it was driving Darrell to the edge. More than she knew.
“Hey Murphy it’s me Darrell.” Juggling a cell phone conversation in one hand and a large hot lemon tea in the other, Darrell quickly walked down the hall backstage to Keri’s room.
“Yeah the opening act just went on and Lacy has that interview with that gal from Metal Killer, uh what’s her name, White, Keri White.” The greedy record executive on the other line was throwing out a barrage of questions nonstop. Darrell did his best to walk, talk and balance a hot beverage at the same time. “The turnout has been great tonight so far. The kids are rabid,” Darrell laughed but was interrupted. “Uh ya know Murphy I haven’t seen the total for tonight’s ticket sales, I’ve been busy with all this other crap.” He was rudely interrupted again. “T-shirt sales?” He felt a huge sense of relief when he saw the door to Keri’s room getting closer. He walked a little faster trying not to spill the hot tea. “Hey as soon as I get t-shirt sales I’ll text you.” He did his best I don’t want to talk to you anymore f
ake static sound as he reached Keri’s room. “Sorry Murph the reception sucks with these concrete wall’s, gotta go.” He let out a sigh while shaking his head in disgust. “Shmuck,” he said under his breath. Turning his head side to side as if trying to relax, he opened the door to Keri’s room. And he didn’t spill the tea.
Extending his hand towards Keri he welcomed her kindly. “Hi, you must be Keri, we’ve heard a lot about you,”
“Oh no, did the guys at Metal Killer run their mouth about me again?” Keri joked. “Just hope they left out the serial killer part and the old person fetish thingy.” Darrell laughed, “You have a sense of humor, I like that, you’re gonna need it.”
He noticed the vibrant artwork along Keri’s arm. “Whoa, that’s a nice looking sleeve,” he said as he set the cup of tea down on a table.
“Thanks, just had the dragon and hearts done last week,” she told him.
“Not too shabby yourself there brother.” She gently turned Darrells arm viewing his black and white art scars.
“Thanks. Hey, I apologize for the delay. Lacy is in the shower now, she’ll be ready here shortly.”
“That’s ok, I’m used to it,” Keri smiled.
After about ten minutes, a tall woman with long black hair wearing sunglasses and a dark grey robe entered the room. A black security guard followed behind her. She made it clear to everyone on the tour that she would have security with her at all times. It was a rock star thing. Darrell couldn’t hide his embarrassment as Lacy walked past him. He leaned against the wall, covering his face. Her hair, still wet from her shower, dripped steadily onto the grey carpeted floor. Keri wasn’t too shocked by the stars behavior, but this was the highest level of rock star narcissism she had yet encountered. The blood queen quietly sat down onto a blue metal folding chair and then crossed her legs in a lady like gesture as she stroked her hair over her shoulder. The stair down began.
Lacy tilted her head slightly to the right, her hands were now crossed on her knee. Her attitude and over all body language said, I’m so fucking bored get me the fuck out of here, I have better things to do. The awkward silence was almost unbearable for Darrell. He nervously nodded to the security guard in a what’s up kinda way. The security guard returned the gesture with a slow nod. After about fifteen seconds of this weird silent staring game between the two females, Keri was only able to get in the sound of her breath before she was ambushed by a quick “no,no,no” from the jaded one sitting across from her. Lacy motioned to Darrell with her hand and in a light voice, “My cigarettes.” Bitch couldn’t even say please. Like a grumpy old husband obeying his nagging wife, Darrell walked over to Lacy handing her a pack of smokes. Raising a cancer stick to her puffy, ruby red lips she realized she needed a light. Again she rudely motioned to Darrell. The imaginary brick wall between her and Darrell must have kept her from seeing the lighter being handed to her. She just sat there with her cig dangling from her mouth waiting for a light. Humiliated, the angry tour manager reluctantly lit her cigarette.
A long plume of smoke exited from her mouth while Keri sat across from her wide eyed. Waiting, staring, hearts racing, feet tapping, more staring, more I don’t want to be here body language, until finally…..
“So, you must be Keri,” Lacy said slowly. “That would be correct Ms…” Keri cautiously looked at Darrell. “Please, call me Lacy,” the queen told her. Keri knew she was in for a rocky ride and the interview she was hoping for was becoming less of a reality. Being in this type of work she had come across these types before, but never this extreme. The only thought in her mind was either get in and get out, or go in for the kill. She contemplated for a moment and went with the latter. It’s killing time.
“So it sounds like Kendra says Kill is destroying the crowd right now. They’re the best all girl metal band out there now and damn what a screamer Kendra Kill is. Wouldn’t you agree?” Keri knew what she was doing. If you’re going to knock down an egotistical rock star a few notches, go for the jugular and ask them what they think of the opening bands lead singer. Lacy was wearing a pair of black sunglasses but the look on her face couldn’t hide her eyes turning red. “Who? Oh yeah, she’s great,” she smirked sarcastically. Continuing the interview Keri asked how ABA drummer was doing. “How is Steve holding up? That hand injury had to have been rough on him?” With a pissy tone and a painfully forced smile Lacy responded, “He’s fine.”
Like a kindergarten teacher wowing over a scribbled piece of artwork from a five year old, Keri asked Lacy, “And what about you, how are you holding up with this extensive tour schedule, you must be exhausted.” This was followed by a quick tap on the Lacy’s knee from Keri. Not even the enormous butcher knife prop Lacy used on stage could cut through the tension filled room. “I’m peachy,” Lacy said through clenched teeth and a kink in her neck. Darrell stood against the wall facing Lacy. The look on his face was code to Keri that she should back off. And she did. She liked and respected Darrell and could sense he was a good person when they met.
“OK, enough small talk. Let’s get down to it,” Keri said and moved her sandy blonde hair away from her face as she pressed record on a small tape recorder.
“Yes, let’s get this over with,” Lacy said while shifting in her chair.
Keri: “The new album ‘Fetish’ has been well received by the metal underground, and the new single ‘Sexy Knife Fetish’ has been in regular rotation on Liquid Metal for the past three weeks. Were you prepared for that kind of response?”
Lacy: “Well, being that our last album ‘Bloody Fingers’ made the little kiddies ears bleed with delight, I wasn’t surprised that ‘Fetish’ would do the same. Of course you’re always somewhat nervous to a degree when you release a new album, but I knew the kids would eat it up, blood and all.”
Keri: “There are some interesting song titles on this one; dogfucked, bone bitch, filth freak, yet you do a cover of Kiss’s ‘Do You Love Me’; done of course with your high pitched distorted screams your fans can’t get enough of. This leads me to the track ‘She’s a screamer’ which is basically a vocal solo of you screaming for a minute and thirty four seconds. That’s pretty brutal and it’s something that’s never been done before.”
Lacy: “Yeah there was a big ego brawl about the cover song thing. Management suggested ‘Be my lover’ by Alice Cooper, but I thought ‘Do you love me’ was more fitting and I obviously won. The screaming thing was my idea and was done solely just to piss off your neighbors at two in the morning.”
Keri: “ABA is no stranger to controversy, especially when it comes to shocking the general public with your very bloody album covers. Your latest offering depicts you on your knees, face down into what looks like a dog bowl overflowing with blood. The album title ‘Fetish’ is carved into the bowl. You are also bound by a barbwire leash around your neck by a blonde vixen wearing executioners mask.”
Lacy: “It is what it is darling.”
Kari: “Some fans believe the cover is subliminal in the sense that the one holding the leash represents Heather Smith; the one murdered by Angel Larson in 1974.
Lacy: “It could be possibly. I’ll leave that up to the fans to decide.”
Kari: “Tell me about the connection between the band Angel Bloody Angel and the Bludenhale Massacre of 1974.”
Lacy: “Well first of all growing up in Bludenhale, Indiana sucked. There was absolutely nothing to do and nothing but fucking cornfields. The only thing that town is known for is the Bludenhale Massacre of 1974 and of course the infamous Angel Larson . I became fascinated with the legend when I was a little girl, mainly because everyone was so afraid to even speak about it. I guess it’s the punk in me, I don’t know. I never really liked people telling me what to think or believe, even in the case of the Bludenhale Massacre. I’ve always been attracted to the darker things in life anyway. Hell my first band was an all-girl Danzig cover band called Devils Plaything. We all wore devil locks just like Glen. It was pretty gnarly. Eventually I took a liking to heav
ier forms of music like death metal and grind. I got hooked on bands like Anal Cunt, Exit 13, but I still liked Danzig and of course the mighty Pantera. I moved from Bludenhale two years after I graduated. I did a whole thing on the Bludenhale Massacre and Angel Larson for my senior project. I never heard the end of it, so I left. I could just imagine how Angel felt growing up in that shithole. When I got this band together I was like fuck it, I’m going all the way with this, and if people are disgusted by it, fuck’em!”
Kari: “When you talk about how Angel Larson must have felt growing up in Bludenhale, do you feel as though you have a connection with Angel?”
Lacy: “Yeah I do, a lot actually. I feel like we were both outcasts in that shithole. She was thrown to the wolves after the murder. That town ripped her apart.”
Kari: “Wait, you do realize that she brutally murdered three people, one being her best friend. Are you saying she was innocent?”
Lacy: “I’m not saying she is innocent. I’m just saying that fucking town is ruthless, nothing but small minded bullshit.”
Kari began to push the issue more and more, not letting up one bit. Darrell was biting his nails deciding when to jump in, if he had to at all.
Kari: “So you feel sorry for Angel?”
Lacy: “Uh I never said that. Don’t put words in my mouth. Where are you going with this?”
Lacy was becoming more irritated and started shaking her leg while taking quick puffs from her cigarette. It’s as if she is a human volcano ready to burst.
Kari: “You know right now there are protestors outside that wanna rip you apart. They’re appalled that you idolize a murderer. How do you feel about that Lacy?”
