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Darkness. Voices. Curses being shouted at him. He wanted to slaughter them all, he



always wanted too. But he couldn’t. Not now at least, he had a show to play. He didn’t



care about the people though. Devourmintium Obscourum was an instrument of his



mayhem and terror. A tool for him to use to frighten the world. He is Skully. He is a



corpse. A walking, breathing dead child of hell. Skully hates all people and cares for



none.



Devourmintium Obscourum is Skully’s Death-Metal band. Skull mans what he calls the



“Anti-Aircraft drums.” Many people came out to see Devourmintium Oscourum tonight,



and Skully wanted to put on a good show. The other members of the symphony of



grindcore were Barnaby Mitchell, a native to Louisiana. Skully met Barnaby when one of



Barnaby’s friends took him to a graveyard to steal some headstones.



Barnaby plays “String Slaughter” and “Lycanthoat”, or guitar and vocals.



He always to wanted to jam with Skully at one time or another, so he recommended they



start Devourmintium Obscouroum. Skully was down, but they needed a bass player.



One day, a particularly hot one at that, Skully was gathering road kill off of the side of the



highway near the mountains of Mexico when he spotted a funny character staring at him.



“ Ey’ mang, what are you doing, like, out here in the desert and stuff mang?”



The character was a tall, light brown Mexican who carried what looked like a feudal era



Japanese sword ‘round his waist. Skully figured out that the man’s name was El Matador



Which Skully thought was, in his own words “Pretty metal.” Skully asked Matador if he



Wanted to play bass for Devourmintium Obscourum. Matador was skeptic at first



(“ Ey’ man whats a bass?”) but Skully won him over by promising him all the Papaya he

could ever

hope to cross the border for. Plus, if Matador didn’t do it, Skully would rip



off his head and bathe in his blood. And now here they are. Playing at the Acid Bath.



Skully could feel his heart pulsing inside him, but then it fell out onto the snare drum.



Barnaby rolled his eyes into back of his head, and in his most devastating



Gutter scream he could muster he roared to the angry, impatient crowd



“This next song is about fecund coming! Entwined in Necrodisembowelment!”



Barnaby’s scream shook the venue asunder, and on the count of 4, Skully launched into



A constant thrash attack of blastbeats. Barnaby gluttered the song in what was perhaps



their most brutal performance yet. El Matador’s fingers bled onto his six-string Attack



Bass, and Skully’s double-bass drum was about to crack from speed. Then it came time.



Time for the breakdown. Barnaby summoned a demon shriek that shook the venue and



all of it’s inhabitants. The disgruntled members of the audience churned with the rhythm



and bludgeoned one another with their bodies, an orgy of anger and violence pulsating



into a physical manifestation of feeling. This was truly a night to remember



benefited only by indigenous insanity and sprinkle of wormwood courtesy of the Green



fairy.



When the song was over, Skully stared at the bits of flesh



dripping down his face onto the floor and drums. He picked them up and threw them into



the audience, hoping that small parts of it would land directly into the audiences mouth.



After the show, Barnaby, Skully and Matador all gathered at the bar, and began to wreak



havoc upon the venue and all they could get their drunken hands on. Skully stumbled out



into the street, obviously tired and disgusted by the incessant ramblings and praises he



endured in the bar. In Skully’s logic, the more friends you have, the better health you are



in, and he wanted nothing to do with any kind of health at all. Skully than began



to go on a meth-binge, constantly wandering, waiting, watching. What for, I cannot say.



Perhaps neither can Skully…But when you are ingesting battery acid and lithium into



your nostril, I cannot blame you. At 4:oo clock in the morning, he stood in front of a



Gravestone and sunk himself into the earth, letting the worms and maggots feast upon his



Body before he arose once again in the day. Skully awoke with his arm detached from



His torso. Barnaby ended up making love to a Polynesian women in a dumpster and



Matador broke into a grocery store and ate all of the Papaya. As the trio of terror slowly



Began to regain their consciousness, they remembered what had happened the night before and decided to look for one another to make sure all of them, excluding Skully, were alive and well.



The band members found themselves all gathered at a small coffee shop, discretely scheming the final step in their plan. Devourmintium Obscourem will rule the world. The three members planned to play in the highest tower in Vatican City. The pope himself would be there, and they couldn’t fathom a better place to start wreaking havoc.



The trio agreed that if their should be any authority in the world, it should be to the strong. They wanted to show everyone that, and after a few hours of Travelocity, they went pack their few things and show the world that death-metal is way of life.



When the band arrived in Vatican City, they were first denied access. Two very strong, professional looking guards halted them in their very place. The band tried explaining that they were in the Vatican to deliver a present to His Holiness, but the guards moved to no avail. It was at this moment in time that Skully devised a more suitable approach to the bands dire situation.



Death.



As the guards faces grew with irritation, Skully’s patience ran low. He charged at the first guard and plunged his arm into the man’s stomach, stirring the entrails about. Blood, pus, and various pieces of half-digested food fell onto the ground out of the hole in the, now screaming miserably, gentleman’s stomach. The man fell on his knee’s and then collapsed onto his face. A small trail of un-identified bodily fluid, thick like ink, seeped out of the mans mouth and accumulated into a puddle circulating around his cheek.



The second guard, terrified and paralyzed with fear, trembled at the site of his fallen comrade. Blood only goes so far as death, as Skully figured. So, the man should have a right to join his fellow partner in the after-life. Before the guard had a chance to speak, his shoulder blades were protruding out of his chest, his sternum cracked in two. With a swift knock to the head, the guards skull cracked, sending tiny bits of cranium seething into his brain. They were both dead. Very dead. “Nietzsche-esque.”, Barnaby said aloud and gave the both the bodies a good kick in the ribs. A pungent stench leaked out of the hole in the first guards stomach. The three haymakers made way to St. Peter’s Basilica, the tallest Renaissance building in the world...To be continued.