[ 23 < cold ]

it wasn’t meant to end up like this. we weren’t meant to.

you promised me different.

though i always knew i would be the fractured in the end. i always knew but still let you take me.

and you took me over.

over and over.

and i let you. i needed you. and i need. still do.

but not like this. not when you look at me with grief in your beautiful eyes. it’s all my fault, i know.

i always wanted to break your heart.

and give you mine.

and you took it. and i washed in your warmth, kept my head above the water. and you held me tight because you always knew i can’t swim.

you used to take me dancing. you were my home. you still are. i crawl to you every time when it hurts too much, and you still open your arms for me. but your fire that always warmed me is now cold, pale and blue.

it doesn’t feel like home any more.

it’s cold, darling. you are here, but you are not with me. you promised me different.

i don’t know where i’m going without you. my guiding light. i’m drowning without your hands to hold me. i’m an arid desert. a november rain. an open window in february. i feel myself so awfully broken. scared. lost. sick.

yes, darling, i’m sick. lovesick. chronically. i caress the anguish aching in my chest, all my yearning. i want you back to heal my jaded heart.

i can’t sleep without your soothing voice comforting me. every time i close my eyes you go away again.

last night i called you in tears. you said you would come. and you did. you sat on the edge of my bed. i pleaded with you to take my hand. you didn’t. but you stayed. i cried. you didn’t say a word. i fell asleep.

in the morning i woke up alone. you were gone.

once you’ve told me you feel like you’re losing me. but i already lost you, my dear.

what are we now?

i can’t feel us any more.

_____________________________________

« drown me one more time

hide inside me tonight

do what you want to do

let’s pretend happy end »

°•*｡°•✩•°｡*･ﾟ

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A short (?) fanfic inspired by @frosted-firefly‘s latest answer to a drawing request. I was going to post this as a genuine fanfic, but I wanted to “publish” it here first. Y’know, because context.

Enjoy this semi-rushed piece and let me know what you think.

A carriage sped down the narrow roads leading to the town of Marseilles. The driver, eying both sides at each turn, urged the horses to roll faster and faster. “I’m sorry, Monsieur Morrell,” he called over the thundering hoofbeats. “I’m afraid there’s no turning back.” 

The coach’s rider opened the window and leaned his head out. “What do you mean, Philipe?” he asked in fluent French. “Marseilles was my childhood home, not a den of thieves or a hideaway for the corrupt. My father lived and died here, and I never heard of such a horrible implication from him. For shame if someone has ruined this beacon of hope for France’s commerce or her people!”

The driver we now know as Philipe winced as he watched the fog build around them. With great swiftness and an even greater knowledge of how to master horses, he slowed the beasts down to a trot. “With all due honesty, Master Maximillian, I didn’t mean to imply that Marseilles is a smuggler’s cove,” he admitted as he lit his lantern. “It’s not, really. Think of it as a place where krakens might lurk the seas or ghouls lurk in every corner.” 

Maximillian shuddered at the mention of krakens. The questions he wanted to ask died in his throat. He put his head back inside then shut the window. His heart throbbed. For all his years as a soldier, he had never experienced the terror any soul under the haunting song of ghost stories. Was Marseilles doomed by some eerie calamity? Did a shipwreck unknowingly set off a chain of events that led to this? Or a vengeful ghost wishing to ruin everyone in its path until its “justice” was finished? 

As the passenger contemplated the past, the driver focused on the present. One hand pulled tightly to the reins while the other held the handle of the candlelit lantern. All he could rely on was the yellowed map on his knees and the sensitivity of his horses. Such sensitivity was well tested when the pack rose to their back hooves and whinnied in fear. “Whoa!” Philipe yelled, tugging back the reins and trying to regain control. “What did you lads see?” His answer emerged as three ring-tailed animals with its leader wearing a tattered hat. They scurried up to the coach and clawed at the door. “Get away from there!” Philipe growled, preparing to leap down and confront them himself.

“You heard the gentleman,” a snakelike voice said, alerting the rodents. “Leave the coach alone. We don’t want to scratch any gold paint off, do we?” 

The trio chirped as if disappointed, then hurried to the stranger’s side. “You’ll have to forgive them,” he chuckled. “They”re just as greedy as their namesake. Old Caderousse loved his gold as much as these wretches love their garbage.” He approached the carriage and placed an arm on the motionless driver’s seat. The man was a well-dressed (if not slightly gaudy) figure with a deep plum top hat and an orange bow-tie to match his suit. His face was scuffed by decades-old injuries, but his mood certainly seemed unaffected by them. “Say, you look a bit agitated for someone startled by raccoons,” he noted, taking a good at his surprised listener. “May I ask where you were headed?”

Maximillian, who had been listening to the entire scene from inside the coach, peered outside from the window. “We are supposed to be at Marseilles tonight,” he explained. “I was given a letter by—“

“A mysterious person known only as Sinbad,” interrupted the stranger darkly. 

“How did you know?”

“Because I myself had received a message like that months ago. The promise of gold lured me in, then I got this job as payment for my stay here.”

“Payment? For what?”

A bitter laugh escapes the hat-wearing man as he approaches the solider. “My dear Maximillian, I’m surprised at you,” he said, placing his elbow on the paneling. “Time may have eroded any childhood memories, but I thought your father would have mentioned my disappearance before he died.”

Maximillian started. “Danglars?” he asked hoarsely. 

“Very good. Maybe I’m not as ill-remembered as I thought.”

“But how did you end up like this?”

Danglars’ expression strained. “Let’s save that story for another time,” he answered with some hesitation. “You must be on your way, and I don’t want you to be more than fashionably late.” He then paused to watch Philipe and the black-masked bandits quarrel. “May I serve as driver’s assistant for the rest of the trip?” he resumed. “I’ve guided many a carriage down these roads like Captain Leclere led the ocean-fairing boats.”

“Anything to put Philipe at ease,” Maximillian replied, putting a hand to the doorknob. “But be sure to not mislead us, or I will take action when our next stop arrives.”

“Don’t cast such a dark cloud of thought upon yourself,” Danglars grinned before turning to face the tense battle of man versus animal. “I’m legally obligated to make sure each person enters in safely. So, on behalf of the town, allow me to say ‘Welcome Home’.”

A few minutes later, and all six members of this motley crew rode past the gate that served as the west entrance. The lights in each window dispelled the fog, allowing Philipe to park the horses in an orderly manner. Once the journey had officially ended, Maximillian stepped out into the narrow cobblestone street. A grim atmosphere and an ever-present chill in the air greeted his senses as he processed what had changed. The buildings, though clearly still strong in their construction, had a look of decay and corruption. Anyone who passed him dove inside somewhere or rushed by without a word. If he had seen an old acquaintance in that moment, they were unrecognizable either due to some dramatic change or to their clothing choices. “What is going on here?” Maximillian asked Danglars, who had busied himself with paying the raccoons in jewels. “Philipe warmed me of krakens and ghouls, but there are none to be seen!”

“That’s because the ghouls are a little timid this hour,” explained the guide, joining the young solider’s side. “If you want to see them, I suggest waiting until some time past midnight. As for krakens, that’s just old sailor’s tales. If they did exist, they would be the only thing in this lot I would be genuinely afraid of.”

Maximillian nodded. “My father did say you dreaded storms because of that,” he added. “But that was when you were young and inexperienced.” 

“‘Inexperienced’ is not a strong enough word,” Danglars muttered to himself, adjusting the brim of his top hat. The realization that his job was not yet over helped him regain his composure. “Mercifully, the past is the past,” he resumed with a confident air. “Now I have a mission that is not guided by the stars, but by a strong sense of direction. Follow me, and I will show you your inn for the night.”

Maximillian silently complied. As he wandered through the winding streets of his old home, his ears caught a faint noise mixed with the gentle breeze. It was almost as if someone was in the deepest throes of agony, but did not want to be found. He looked at his guide, but nothing in his posture had significantly changed. “Maybe this is one of those monstrous souls who now resides here,” the soldier figured. “Maybe I will meet this strange fellow later on tonight, if my fate gets any more strange and fortunate.”

Within Temptation’s Sharon den Adel: “Everything is f**ked, but there are good things”

The gospel according to Within Temptation’s Sharon den Adel

We are music lovers first and foremost

“We love all kinds of music in Within Temptation! Our heart and soul started with metal and rock, so the core of our band will always be that, but we will always have an open mind. And that has helped us also to develop throughout the years. What influences us? It’s dependent on what was most inspirational from other scenes that we picked up at that moment and tried to combine with our music.

The internet can be savage

“I’m always thinking about what I put online. There’s a thin line of what you wanna show and what is too much. A lot of people are listening to you and following you on social media, so it’s worth thinking about what you put out there. Of course, I have my political views and stuff like that, but there’s also the question of what is your purpose in that; if you really want to express that much, or if you wanna just open up a discussion. It depends who’s on the other side and how they react to everything. I like to talk to people and see how they think. I wanna learn from them, and I learn the most from people who think differently than I do.”

Everyone from Linkin Park to Iron Maiden has inspired us

“With Linkin Park, it was not the music, but more production-wise. When we did [2004 album] The Silent Force, we were very much inspired by them because of the way they were using loops, and the production was totally awesome, totally new, no one was doing that. It was so inspirational. But with [2011 album] The Unforgiving, we were inspired by the 80s – bands we grew up with, Metallica, Iron Maiden… you can really hear the influences on certain songs. In In The Middle Of The Night the rhythm is very ‘galloping’, that’s a big wink to our favourite bands.”

I love watching our crowds

“One night, I was singing Mercy Mirror, and one person was really going into his head, closed eyes, moving. Another one was screaming it out, singing every word with me, and another was just listening. There were kids, older people, such a mixture. It’s so nice how you can see that people can interpret one song in a different way. I like to look at people in the face when I’m singing. I’m onstage to get that connection.”

It was hard processing my father’s death onstage

“Sometimes it got too much, during certain songs I had to sing, ones that are very close to me. Sometimes it breaks you up on stage. I had that thing of, ‘I don’t wanna play that song because every time I sing it, I start crying,’ you know? It’s not something I want to show people. But, of course, it’s pure, the audience embrace it, and there’s a lot of respect coming from them at that time. It takes off the sharp edge, and that’s the beauty of it.”

Climate change scares me

“Not enough people are scared by it, and nobody really knows what to do about it. The thing I realise more and more is that we are all into this together, so if not everybody joins to change, eventually we won’t get to the goal that we all really need to get to. We need to get those degrees down, otherwise it’s gonna be really hard for certain countries, and in some parts of the globe there are gonna be islands that will be gone because the sea levels are rising! The world changes, and things are natural, but the rapid way that it’s going is scaring me. I’ve always been very sensitive to those kinds of things. I never thought it would become a problem so soon that my kids might experience it.”

The future can be positive

“We have this Dutch scientist, Boyan Slat, who invented a way to clean out the plastic in the ocean. He started crowdfunding it. And it’s like, ‘Why didn’t anyone else think of this? It’s a very easy solution!’ Because of all the media worldwide, he’s being hired by other countries to do the same thing. It doesn’t go fast enough yet, but it’s a step, and it’s something that I think is very positive. I think there should be more positive news, and then people will get more positive about the future and start thinking of solutions, instead of, ‘Oh, everything is doomed.’ Everything is fucked, but on the other hand, there are a lot of good things! In the Netherlands, they have the Good News feeds, and that’s really positive. I think there can be a butterfly effect. It could be beautiful.”

I don't follow advice

“I didn’t really get that much, and I always followed my own instincts, more or less. I think the lack of advice did get us into trouble, though, because nobody knew anything about the music industry! We just thought it was a hobby and we were being paid.”

Push yourself out of your comfort zone

“For me, I think it’s the most important thing. Otherwise you’ll always be in your own little world and come up with the same kind of things you’ve already done. Even on this album, I have actually worked with a British guy for the lyrics, because I’m not a native speaker. I learned so much from that, so that was really nice.”

Family keeps you grounded

“It’s also why I wanna go home after a certain degree of time. I love being on the road, but when I’m home… it’s like the world is upside down, totally different. I need it to ground myself again, and I have to get back into the rhythm of another kind of life. The kids need to go to school, the garbage has to be taken out, somebody has to cook the dinner!”

People worry too much

“Worrying about what other people think. Most people aren’t concerned about you. Most people live in their own little bubble, but people always think they have to keep up appearances because a lot of other people might think [something negative]. Of course, they have their opinions, but most of the time you can’t influence them.”

Nirvana got me into heavy music

“Although not directly into metal. It was such an important time in my youth, and they were the first band I really fell in love with. They were my favourite band, and still are. I never saw them live – I was supposed to go and see them at the Melkweg in Amsterdam, but my parents didn’t allow me to go! They have this live album, From The Muddy Banks Of The Wishkah, and it doesn’t sound that ‘good’, but I love it for that. It has a rawness.  They just translated the emotion of a certain part of the youth at that time. How misunderstood they felt. They could do nothing wrong in my eyes.”

I have got a really sadistic sense of humour

“Well, if you give me a chance. I have this spray I put in my mouth, just to keep my throat working onstage. I sprayed [one of our crew] with it, and he thought it was pepper spray! He didn’t know what I’d done, he was like, ‘Oh my god!’ Oh my god!’”

Published in Metal Hammer #321