Go for the pit-dancers! That was the order. First day, third concert, metalcore I think. But it doesn’t matter. It was heavy, violent and loud. “Go straight for them, no pity”

Poor guy never saw me coming…

Straight for the face. I was flying at him with a heavy roll of punches. All he could do was try and raise his arms in an attempt to defend himself. 

No use… The red of his shirt sank in the ocean of the crowd. Never saw him again. 

Those instincts rose and took hold for the weekend. It was a mighty feeling that I could break somebody without feeling the pain myself. The feeling of my fists landing heavily on somebody’s flesh and bone.

Sometimes, it was like shooting fish in a barrel. 

Still trying to hold onto some form of the Ethics, only going for the “dancers”, those who lack the respect for the degenerates like us. Those who were flaying blindly with every part of their body, just to hit somebody. 

No elbow work…

A quick stomp here and there when they were really out of their place, in the midst of the innocent. Those who were just trying to enjoy the music without getting too involved with the chaos and madness that you can get in a good moshpit. Instinct were boiling, almost hunting for them sometimes. Not that you had to look far to find one, or for the same matter there were plenty who just fell in your neck. 

Poor kid, he became the spear point of a massive wave through the crowd that broken at me. Out of pure reflex, he found himself with a bleeding nose…

Luckily, he understood. 

And the first riff had not even been played yet…