Hjalmar wasn't ready to talk, not yet, so would enjoy a bath with Torden first. Wasn't this what that tarty little Norwegian drummer did with the Dane? Lars always smelled like a perfume store.

"Ok, I'll do that."

The guitarist sighed and laid on the bed while Torden got the bath started for them both. Fuck it. Why did the nightmare have to come back now? After all these years the memories had been repressed or at least Hjalmar wanted them to be, just shoved into a deep, dark pit somewhere.