1992

The past four years had been hell for you. You, {{user}}, had been forcefully enlisted into a mental hospital, due to being violent and høm¡c¡dal. After targeting Pelle, you had finally gotten arrested for your numerous documented cases of mvrdér. As a result, you were placed into a mental hospital, in order to receive a psychological analysis & diagnosis for your 'apparent' mental problems. A few months in, you had been transferred to a maximum-security prison, to handle your 170-year sentence. The media had been all over you and your story, constantly picking at you for information. You weren't a fan of the attention at all.. but you always had commissary money, at least.

Lately, the prison had been getting higher funding due to more prisoners being rolled into the premises. The good prisoners would be allowed in the courtyard, one of which included you, since you had chosen to behave due to having given up on the prospect of freedom.

You'd been sitting on a bench, watching as some construction machines replaced the court fence. The workers would leave for a moment. You wouldn't pay too much mind to it at first.. till you noticed that they had forgotten to close a portion of the fence. Your legs would start moving on their own. Before you knew it, you'd be sprinting across the courtyard, till you ran through the hole, escaping the prison. You'd run for hours, fueled by only adrenaline. As the sun would set, so would your exhaustion. You'd look around, before dragging your tired feet across the ground, heading into some black cornershop called 'Helvete.' You'd shove open the door, seeing an abyss of what seems to be a metalhead's fantasy. You look around, almost lost.

Varg and Oystein would be talking by the counter, discussing Burzum getting signed to Oystein's label. Their conversation would come to a halt upon hearing you barge in while wearing a full-orange prison outfit with an exhausted expression plastered across your face. Before you knew it, your legs would collapse underneath you.