A Simpsons Fanfic,
Originally posted on deviantART by EternalPawn,
This was edited and reposted by me, with her permission,
We do not own the Simpsons
Chapter One: Dreams of Revenge
Bart Simpson ran through the town of Springfield as fast as his stubby little legs could carry him. He was sweating heavily and felt a pain in his side, the boy was out of a shape with his belly rather chubby and his legs not fit to run this long, however when a madman is after you run as fast as you possibly could.
Said madman was named Robert Underdunk Terwilliger, or more commonly known as Sideshow Bob. His story was one of crime and revenge.
Simple really,
Now he was going to take the life of the boy who had ruined his, Bart had tripped over nothing and the man pulled him in close, Bob brought the knife to Bart's throat as the boy shook and squealed, he then raised it stabbing it right into Bart's belly and then . . .
. . . He woke up.
"Blast, so close" he grumbled, he had this dream nearly every night but when he woke up early it felt as if someone was cutting to commercial during the best part of the show. Bob pulled himself to his feet,
After nearly five attempted murders and one frame up job that started this whole thing, Bob was sentenced to life in prison but was later moved to a padded sell because of how bat-shit insane he seemed. However for Bob himself, he was perfectly sane, angry and bloodthirsty, yes, but very much sane.
Bob looked at the newspaper clipping of Bart, the one thing he had to focus his anger on. He had ripped it out of a newspaper in the prison library back when he was in general population. The clipping was from nearly seven years ago, Bart was eleven, and he was holding a trophy and looking really happy. The title read Juvenile Delinquent Wins 5th Grade Spelling Bee.
How Bart had won was a mystery to Bob, did his sister Lisa help him? Did he cheat? Was that why he looked rather smug? Or did he actually take the time to study and was rewarded? Whatever the case it didn't matter to Bob, he just stared at the boy's image wishing to see him suffer.
The past eight years in prison had not been good to Bob, his auburn red hair still poofed and curled in every direction, but he was starting to see some roots turning gray. He was developing lines around his face and mouth that were unflattering; he was getting older, thinner, but thankfully he still looked handsome in a more mature way, the rest of his skin looked healthy and he had stayed fit in while in prison. Nobody had messed with him, not with his reputation.
Suddenly there was a rap at the door, and a prison guard entered.
"Oh goody, have they started serving breakfast at an earlier hour?" Bob asked sarcastically but the man just glared at him. "Get up, you have a meeting with the parole board" he said.
It took all of Bob's strength not to laugh evilly right then and there, while he was supposed to serve life in jail with no chance of parole, he obviously had been noticed for "good behavior" as he hadn't messed with anyone since moving to solitary. This was his chance to get out as the people in charge of the law in Springfield were even bigger idiots than most of the criminals.
Just as he expected, the bored ate up his cock and bull story of being a new man, and said he could leave. However this time, Bob was told he wasn't allowed in the town of Springfield anymore. That did put a damper on Bob's plans, but no matter, he would have his revenge on the Simpson boy in his own time. The Simpson's would eventually leave town one way or another and then he could get Bart, the only problem was tracking him, perhaps he could ask one of his former cellmates to spy on the boy. Or maybe-
"Bob!" Chief Wiggum said snapping Bob back to reality and the idiotic police chief giving him a warning. "So sorry, what were you saying?" Bob said politely. "I'm saying don't try anything funny, or I'll know" Wiggum said trying to be threatening but Bob only chuckled. "Don't worry Chief, I am going to head out to a new town get a fresh start somewhere" Bob lied through his teeth. "Well good for you and then you can forget all about Springfield and the Simpson boy" Wiggum said.
"Yeah" Bob scowled at the mention of Bart, "just out of curiosity how is the dear boy doing, he'd have to be a teenager now would he?" Bob asked innocently. "Yeah eighteen if you can believe that, he's apparently trying to reform, making up for what a pest he was as a kid, but I just don't trust him, teens are no-good punks, and I've seen the hanging out in that old abandoned warehouse just outside of town" Wiggum chuckled.
Jackpot! Bob thought, though still the thought of Bart and "eighteen" didn't seem to fit well, he always imagined him as being an annoying child forever, no matter, it didn't matter how old Bart got, Bob was going to make sure he suffered greatly.
Bob walked into the next town over, he had quite a bit of money but if he didn't get supplies and shelter he wouldn't last long. Also he needed a place where he wouldn't be disturbed where he could have Bart in his clutches without fear of intrusion. Fortunately for him he noticed an older lady outside an RV with a huge 'for sale' sign in the window.
"Excuse me Ma'am, have you sold your vehicle yet?" he asked her politely.
"No, are you interested?" she asked, looking very eager to sell.
"I might be, do you mind if a take a look inside?" he asked as she smiled "no of course not, come right in" she said.
Bob nodded and fallowed her inside, it was spacious, and there was a ledge above the driver's seat for storage, a big bed in the back, a kitchen, dining room table, a nice sized shower, even a washer and dryer.
The only downside was the place stunk of too much air freshener and cleaners, obviously she had to clean this place out before selling but given what Bob planned to do, he couldn't very much judge. As he looked around everything was empty so obviously he would need his own supplies, but he noticed a pair of leather handcuffs, obviously used for sexual bondage play, but Bob was getting other ideas.
"Oh sorry about those, my husband used this thing to cheat on me, lousy bastard" she grumbled "I thought I'd cleaned everything out. She attempted to reach for them but Bob said "wait, do you mind if I keep these?" he asked, she gave him a look but then shrugged "whatever you're into I guess"
Bob smiled and signed the deal, soon the vehicle was his and while it wouldn't work in a high speed chase, with his plan it shouldn't come to that, he would turn this place into Bart's mobile prison, and himself, into Bart Simpson's worst nightmare.
