It was very late at night now. The moon was full, and the path had gave way to a blood paved street. Some very pale women and children with red eyes came out and played on the swings in the forest in the dark, giggling. There was a shanty town, many huts, with a Gerry-rigged cathedral with Satanic stained glass mirrors in the center. A small class was being held inside of one of the huts. he had heard of this place, a weird Swiss corporate enclave that had been on the route to Stoner Mountain since the early 1600s and which , strangely, still remained as part of Switzerland (formally), though it was in the middle of what used to be known as California, in the former USA. Rumor had it that not far from this place, the tech titans had made a pact with the Satanic Illuminati (Octagon) to provoke nuclear war in order to further control the supply chains. From time to time, large amounts of cryptos had been reported (as having been dumped on the road) to GovCore. People were likely harvesting DeathCoins out here, using biomechanical hydro power. Death coins stored up all the vitality of the people killed onto a tradeable digital coin. Luckily, these people were more into the tech side of the system. They let the low lives and the scavs in other regions do most of the killing these days. Their killings were merely ritualistic at this point.
Daryl poked his head in, and saw that everyone was working on advanced mathematics for big biotech, surveillance state, cyber security, and block-chain.
Some creepy short, pudgy stone-eyed Danish types came out to the front porches of their huts as Daryl pedaled by, his bicycle squeaking ever so slightly. This wasn’t just one or two people per hut, rather it was entire families of locals. A pig with its head freshly cut off ran across the path in front of him. Later, an axe flew bye his face, and nearly missed, so he pedaled faster.
Further up the mountain, the fog grew thicker, as he passed a decaying green fungus-infested swimming pool. In front of the pool was a mangy rusted copper fence. Toxic warning signs were everywhere. Daryl came to a gate, which was guarded by two men in a Jeep. They were wearing jeans with shades and flannels, and they carried M-16s. They refused to let him in at first, but he persuaded them to let him in by offering them the chance to take nudes of his sexbot Shirley, who was now sporting a black eye.
He passed through the fence and proceeded towards the nuclear bunker where Stoner Mountain Records was presumed to be located. He touched the OPEN button, next to the door and a holograph of an orc-like mutant appeared.
“I am Daryl, from the band Heinous Wench Excoriation, and I have biked here to bring you my demo. I hope you think it its fucking sick!”
The stoner mutant dude coughed repeatedly and then asked, “What format? And does it sound like Sleep, or Black Sabbath at all?” and then went back to toking.
“Not really. I would say I was trying to cross early Asphyx with Megadeath and Burzum or something really.” Daryl proceeded to play the demo tape through the EV megaphone, but the stoner had no attention span. “I don’t have an MP3 or crypto yet. Since I am not with CorpGov. I cannot get electricity other than batteries. Please listen regardless. Thanks!”
“Well can you make it sound more like Sabbath and then get back to me?” Replied the mutant, even though he had nothing better to do.
Getting a closer look at the mutant he could see ugly red and purple curly hair, three eyebrows, and a 7 fingered hand. “Ya maybe, if I can ever find some other band members out here (in the wastelands) and I can just let them write that trendy stuff and I will like , just jam along, sure. Hey, can I get a toke?” Daryl asked.
So , in the end, unfortunately Daryl did not wind up getting signed that day, however he did manage to get baked and go on a nice adventure. So he wasn’t totally discouraged. It was a lot better than just sitting in one place and waiting for the for corporations or the cannibals to come and off him. He had done a lot of travelling that day already though, so he decided to play Solitaire for a while. So he did. Then, certain he would find more record labels to apply to, he dispatched his pigeon, to find more gigs. Even though Daryl was a totally evil dude, who sometimes still liked to kill just for the fun of it, he still had a lot of blind faith in humanity overall.
Tags: 2159, cyberpunk, death, fallout, fiction, metal, Story, Underground Record Labels in 2159