Hello, readers!
Here is the first in a series about Dethklok before they were Dethklok. Here's my take on the boys (and possibly Ofdensen) before they began big.

Enjoy!

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Rose Explosion meant well. She meant well and loved her family. True, her son Nathan wasn't exactly planned, but she loved him all the same. Nathan was born a bit early but roughly average length and weight. Oscar Explosion, Rose's husband and the baby's father, wasn't so thrilled. It's not that he 'hated' his newborn son, but honestly the man wondered if he was ready to give up his time and money for a kid.

Nathan was treated as any other American child was. He was clothed, fed, and had the parental stimulation any child would need. And yet; there was something amiss with the boy. Besides him not speaking when most of the other toddlers were babbling and chatting, something in the boy's eye made you wonder. There was something there- a strange glint. It wasn't loneliness or neglect; but it almost looked like anger.

In kindergarten the teacher asked the children to introduce themselves. Nathan was asked his name and favorite color after a blonde boy with a wide smile introduced himself. Silence.

The school tried to have Nathan open up. They told Mr. and Mrs. Explosion, they had Nathan seek school counselors, and even the authorities were brought into the Floridian household to be sure there wasn't something intimidating the boy. Nothing.

"Nathan," Rose asked gently as the black haired boy sit on her lap, "Why won't you say anything, dear?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with you?" Oscar asked with a mild drunken slur, "Yer makin' us look like kiddy-beaters."

Rose looked down at her son. Nathan seemed to fiddle with his fingers some.

"Say something, boy! Anything!" Mr. Explosion exclaimed.

Nathan looked up at his mother, who was wearing an exhausted smile, and then over at his father.

"Alright," Oscar said as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "What... is you're name. Now I don't know if you're slow or what but it's damn near impossible you can't answer that one."

The two males locked eyes and Nathan, in a tone too serious for a five year old child, said his first two words:

"Nathan Explosion."

To the relief of the parents, Nathan could speak, so that meant one less problem. While Rose was optimistic that her son would flower into an average child, Oscar was much less hopeful. True, he was happy his son wasn't a mute, but he still doubted his son would be like the other kids on the block.

When Nathan silently witnessed the car crash and simultaneous vehicular homicide in second grade, Rose began to wonder if perhaps there was something slightly off with her Nathan. Even in school-mandated therapy Nathan said next to nothing. When he did speak, it was only a comment and nothing to elaborate on.

Rose still loved her son. Oscar still was somewhat indifferent and left the major parenting to his wife. Nathan's life was fairly uneventful through elementary school. He had no friends. He didn't want any. When he was left to recess or free time he would write. At ten years old his spelling may not have been perfect; but he was able to write out his feelings. Usually his songs were heavily violent for a child and he did his best to hide them from his teachers and parents. He remembered all the times he was forced to talk to 'doctors' and other 'specialists' about his muteness or when he saw the car wreck. Honestly, Nathan didn't feel the slightest tinge of shock or horror when the entire classroom was covered in blood and bodies. He just wondered if he would get to go home early.

As the school years went on, Nathan slowly began to change both outwardly and internally.

By the time junior high rolled around, the young boy was becoming a young man. No longer was he meek bodied with a chubby face. Rather, his arrow-straight, jet black hair was growing out and his body was slowly taking on the shape of someone that football coaches would want. Something also changed. He started to notice things with himself and wanted to do things.

He began to notice the girls in his classes. He started to imagine them naked and doing things to him. When he caught wind of some other guy getting a blow job or copping a feel he wondered what it was like. Nathan was never vocal about this, never asking his father about it, but kept it inside. Returning to a childhood hobby, he would write about it and hide it under his bed in his pale blue bedroom.

He really hated that pale blue room. Pale fucking blue. Nathan was really hating things more. Rarely did he speak up, though, just wrote about it. Even when his mother would ask him about things he would just lowly reply in his new voice. He wasn't sure if he liked his new voice. It was kind of gravely and deep. Nathan probably had the deepest voice in school. Not that anyone heard a lot of it.

The only things the black haired boy really liked were football, frog dissection and writing songs. Of course, he wasn't writing songs at that point. It wasn't until he sneaked into a local heavy metal show did he begin to turn his writing into actual song. Even if he didn't like his room, his school, and was on the fence about his voice; at least puberty gave him a thick body and a way to pass off for 18 at 15.

One of his favorite adolescent memories was thanks to his new body.

It was at his junior prom. He was still 16 and she was 18. Nathan didn't even want to go to prom. But his mom, Rose insisted.

"Oh come now, Nathan. It'll be good for you. Go out, have some fun, and maybe meet a nice lady friend," she said.

Nathan did go out, he did have a certain kind of fun, and he did meet a lady friend. Maybe friend wasn't a good term. He found a girl who was bored, easy, and hot. Needless to say, the two sneaked out of the dance and go to the girls house. What? Like Nathan, body of a quarterback and hair growing longer everyday, would bring a girl to his pale blue bedroom. Never.

The girl lived in a slummy area of town and her parents were no where in sight. Lucky for Nathan. He lost his virginity to a girl he had known for not even a full day. The girl obviously was not a first timer. She had a condom in her drawer and told Nathan he didn't need to hold back. That was possibly the one moment that Nathan really appreciated his mother for making him go out anyplace. After a first time with no strings attached and no awkward feeling Nathan walked back home.

"How was the dance, dear?" Rose asked as she greeted her teenage son, "By the looks of it you danced up a storm tonight."

Nathan couldn't help but smirk as he agreed with his mothers misconceptions and went off to bed that night.

It was only a few months after the dance did Nathan drop out of school.

"What the fuck did you do!" Oscar exclaimed after his son came home and proclaimed he dropped out.

"I dropped the fuck out, that's what!" Nathan roared at his father.

"Boys, boys calm down!" exclaimed Rose.

"Rose, what the fuck did we do? We had this kid and he never turned out right!"

Nathan sneered and looked away. He wanted to hurt his father. He wanted to snap his neck.

"Hey, fuck both of you," Nathan said in a sneer, "I dropped out of fucking high school and I'm going to fucking be my own man."

"By doing what!" Oscar exclaimed enraged, "You have no diploma! No diploma, no skills, no money, no job, no nothing!"

"I'll figure it out!"

Nathan stormed away from his parents and left then house. The gravely voiced young man was 17 and was without a cause. He didn't even really think about his future. He just thought about his lyrics. Under his bed there were folders and folders of papers all with ideas or complete lyrics.

It had rained a few hours before and the Florida air was thick with humidity. Eventually the young man found himself in front of a tattoo parlor. While he had no intention of getting ink (with what money, first of all) he went inside in the hopes of mooching some air conditioner.

The parlor was very small and even while the raven haired adolescent pretended to look at tattoos the pierced man at the counter was shooting his dirty looks. It didn't take long for Nathan to catch his own reflection in a mirror.

His face was devoid of childhood chub and his hair was long. He had a modest resemblance to his mother, but genuinely lacked both parents features. He assumed it was the Yaneemango blood that ran through his veins. When he was little, Nathan's mother told him that he had the illusive peoples in his lineage. To some degree it made him feel a bit separate from the other jack-offs (a term he began to use after he learned what the singular action was in his pre-adolescence).

Nathan had no idea where he was headed in life. But honestly; he didn't really care. Even before he dropped out of school he was hanging around local heavy metal and underground concerts and tweaking his songwriting abilities. Would it take him someplace in life? He didn't know. But he did know as he stood in that crappy tattoo parlor fresh from his premature last day of high school was that there was no way he would face his own death without clocking out of life with a brutal bang.