“Alright, listen up as I don’t wanna have to say this mor’n once. I’m sick of tell’n every yokel and farmer I run across to piss off so I figure I’ll tell you once and be done with it.
My name’s Thor and I founded the Hellriders. Start from the start? What, you mean the very start? Fuck, alright, gimmie a light.
Alright, few years back, dunno, ’bout ten, the word was fuckin’ different. Lazy is what is was. Television, Music Videos and Laz-E-Boys. Pretty much everyone was fat and happy, and those that weren’t got sat on by the fat and happy ones. Me? I was one of the fat & happy ones. Nice fat job at a bank doing ‘risk assessment’. Fuck, what did we know of risk back then? Nothin’, we knew nothin’.
Anyshit, it was enough to make one do stupid things. Stupid things like going up north on a Harley and flooring it every weekend just to break away from the bullshit. To know that if you slipped then you’d be a greasy smear along a couple hundred meters of highway. Stupid stuff. Stupid shit that saved my goddamn life.
It was a Sunday, I remember that cus’ I was riding home after a great pissup with friends. Probably all dead now, bastards. Suddenly I crest a hill and see the entire damn city on fire. An’ flyin’ over it are these weirdass bugs the size of my hog! I saw the stream of headlights comin’ towards me and those damn bugs chasin’ ’em and I turned around and floored it. Managed to get ahead of those poor sons of bitches and escaped most of the bloodshed. Met up with some other bikers, actual outlaw bikers, and for some reason they let me ride with them. Taught me how to shoot, how to fight, how to survive.
We found out from other survivors that this had happened everywhere. Things just showed up and torn into the place. Demons, devils, monsters, whatever. From Harley sized bugs to hellhounds ta giant friggn’ well, giants. Just showed up and torn into people. The military? How the fuck should I know? Heard from some they broke and ran, heard from others that they died protectin’ us. Me? Best story I’ve heard is that most of em’ died takin’ out whatever brought those giant things over. Also heard that a shittonne of them died taken out the biggest of the beasts, that what are left are just the little ones. Me? I think it’s both. I’ve seen army units that have gone bad, used their muscle to become tin-pot dictators. I also remember some of those beasts in the early days, and I’ve noticed they ain’t around no more. Met a couple of survivors of units that went down fightin’ too, got one of them ridin’ with the Hellriders now in fact.
Anyway, you all know all this already. Demons came, ate the word and I’m running with my tail between my legs. I’m not proud of those early days: We did about the same as any other group. Fought and scrambled and survived. Still, we didn’t kill for the hell of it, or start eat’n people like a lot did. We ran from the damn demons that showed up everywhere and stole what gas & food we could. This lasted for mmm ‘bought a year I guess. Was the end of spring when monsters started fuckin’ the place up, we ran all summer, hid all winter and everything changed the next spring.
Next spring? You gotta buy me another beer to find out about next spring.”
Well this is an idea I had for a setting. I’ll be telling you a bit about the word through the eyes of Thor here. It is an idea I had while walking one day and I’ll admit I don’t really have it fleshed out fully, but that is half the fun of writing it. Thor is fun to write for so far, very different from myself, though he wasn’t always. The basic idea is bikers fighting giant monsters to heavy metal music. So put on some Hammerfall or Manowar and join me next time for part: The Rise of the Hellriders.
Until Next Time, Stay Geeky!