No characters in this story belong to me and in no way will they ever. All characters are copyright of Jhonen Vasquez.

Try an enjoy if you ship them as it is a first in a few years of writing proper fan fictions.

3 Enjoy if you can.

I'd known my neighbour for over 5 years now. He isn't your average, normal neighbour...he's quite scary. He is an average height with dark, messy hair. Also, he is very thin and rarely sleeps. The only thing that makes him different from any ordinary neighbour was he killed people. My name is Todd but I'm usually called Squee by Johnny, my neighbour(I've grown used to him calling me that. I've actually grown to like it). Schmee always tells me that to be cautious when around Nny. He says that he a bad person but I don't think he is. He kills people that deserve it...Most of the time.

"Mum...Dad... I'm going out for a while."

I said as I opened the dull, wooden door,

"Yes, Yes..Find somewhere to eat while you're out..Me and your mother are staying out late...Basically, just don't come back until tomorrow."

He said harshly to me. He's only grumpy from work...ever since I was born. I nodded and walks out into the bright sunny weather, closing that dull door behind me.

I cling to Schmee tightly, looking down on him.

"No,Schmee. They know it's my 16th birthday tomorrow!"

Staring down with my eyebrows lowering. The sky was so clear and pure. I was left hoping it would be like this tomorrow. Me and Schmee begin arguing over my parents, on how they neglect me but they don't. They mean nothing bad they've said to me. I've been believing this since a young age but I've been beginning to wonder if I can believe it for much longer. The ground below me is so grey. I continue to stare at it and begin to start sobbing onto Schmee's scruffy materials. 'They do love me...They do love me.' I mutter to myself over and over. I am loved. My eyes cringe and water drips heavily down my face. A dark shadow towers over me. I tilt my head up to investigate who it was. Johnny, above me, peering down at me, curiously. His head tilted, with and eyebrow raised,

"Squee? What are you doing out here crying in public?"

He said, with a wobble in his voice. He ruffles my hair slowly. My cheeks start to heat up. I quickly rub my eyes and bury my face into my knees.

"H-Hey...You okay,Squee? I really need to get this guy in the house before he wakes up."

"I-I'm fine...My face just looks weird today and I don't want you to see my face."

"I just saw your face... It looks fine...Beau- I better get going. I think this guy is going to wake up pretty soon."

He turns around and begins to walk away. The sounds the of the males shoes scrape along the concrete, echoing through my head. I turn to Schmee and hold him close to my face staring at Johnny as he walks off.

"W-WHAT? I-I AM NOT LOOKING AT HIS ASS,SCHMEE!"

A fluster of red covers my face as I shout at Schmee. Placing my hands on my mouth, I stare over at Johnny who blankly looks over at me.

"H-Hey..."

I wave my hand slightly, speaking quietly.

"...See ya..."

I nod and smile slightly as he walks off. I complain at Schmee, silently (so no-one looks at me like there is something wrong with me).

"Well Schmee..Maybe I do like Johnny a bit too much...But ,other than Pepito, he notices me and doesn't judge me..."

I twiddle my thumbs together as my face burns up. As I pull myself up from the ground, I spot a blood trail in the shape of a heart. I follow it all the way around and spot no trail as if the blood source just vanished.

"Johnny didn't make it,Schmee. Where do you get these ideas?"

I wandered away, off to the mall, looking at various items of great interest such as books, pens and writing pads. Looking around the dark and dreary mall, I see many couples, talking about peoples appearances and their own, kissing and hugging. Maybe Johnny would do that to me if he loved me but he never really want to touch anyone. At all. I let out a loud sigh and drag my feet along the ground, holding Schmee loosely.

I make it home, grab hold of the door knob and pull at it. It doesn't budge. I pull at it again, it makes a loud clattering as I do. I turn to Schmee as he reminds me that no-ones in.

"Oh yeah..So where am I supposed to go? Pepito's away with his father to get him ready to help him."

I cringe as I turn to the only other place I can stay at. Johnny's house. I turn to the direction of his house and I take a deep gulp. I start to walk over to his house, running over his pavement. Who knows how many dead people are under his pavement and dark, soft soil. Slowly, I press the dull door bell. No sound is made...Maybe it's broken. The door slightly opens and a dark shadow peers from it, head tilting upwards to me

" What do y- Oh..Hey Squee...What...What are you doing here?"

He looks up at me with an eyebrow raised. I smile lightly, shuffling my foot of the ground.

"Um..Have you got a spare room I can sleep in for the night? My parents are out for the whole night and the house is locked...I even locked my window for once..."

"Well, I have the floor if that counts."

I nod. These days, anywhere is better than nowhere.

He steps to the side hands directing me in. My foot steps echo as I walk over the hard, wooden floorboards. I stand, waiting to be directed to a specific area of the room.

"You can just sit on the couch on your own or you can come down stairs with me...I get lonely occasionally."

He says in a sorrowful, droopy way as if he was asking me to go with him.

"I-I'll go with you."

I cling to Schmee and begin to flourish slightly.

"S-Shut up, Schmee."

Johnny looks over at me, curiously, studying my facial colour.

"..hmm...What did Schmee say to you, Squee?"

I turn slightly away from him, rubbing the back of my head, ruffling my hair slightly, saying it was nothing important. Johnny merely shrugs and begins to go down the stairs, telling my to come with him.

Chilling sounds of people crying, moaning, shouting and begging, lingered around, growing slightly louder as we continue travelling further down. I begin to wonder how far underground we were as I notice the air levels begin to drop.

We enter a large, dark room with people hanging upside down, most with duct-tape covering their mouth, few being to cry at Johnny as he faces them. He turns to me, lowering his head,

"I know a lot of people here may deserve such a dark and miserable fate...If fate is even real...But you should not see such a horrible sight. You're not mentally ruined, right?"

I nod, slowly as I look in horror of all the people around.

I don't want to blame Johnny's bad influence on my life(plus my parents neglect effecting my life) but I have killed someone, just the other month. I didn't know what to do at the time. I panicked and everything at first and for sometime after. Anyway, I had stabbed this boy with a pencil in the forehead(which I was writing with) because he was bothering me and telling me 'I was a geek for writing' or something like that. He also commented on my looks, like I was some common dweller and he was a king, such remarks as my hair was 'too long' and how 'girly' it was(it's not girly...at all). When I finally dragged him home(my parents hadn't noticed) I just threw him in the vent which connects me and Johnny's house together and just left him to rot. I do feel really bad about it...I fiddle with my hair, twirling it around my finger. Maybe I should get a hair cut.

I begin to think about whether I should tell Johnny. He would understand. He kills. A lot.

A hand waves in front of my face, asking if I was still awake.

"W-Whuh?"

"You went quiet...Lost in thoughts? That happens to me a lot...Anyway."

He turns to another door and tells me to wait outside it. A loud drilling sound, screeches through my head.

" So how was your day,Squee?"

He said casually as the drill grew louder, piercing something squishy.

"It's been an okay day, I starte-"

A ear-splitting wail, coming from the same room as Johnny was in. I stare down upon the blood pouring out of the room. Johnny calls through to me,

"Continue. Please, It's hard enough trying to drown this man's sounds of pain, alone."

I try to smile,stuttering back.

"O-okay..I-I started a n-new story...and...I-Is he okay?"

I frown, looking into the room and a smile begins to twitch on my face. Glee. Not fear, sickness of any human being of this modern day. Johnny turns around, bending upwards and opening his eyes, looking upon me. I take a deep breathe and pull a straight face. He blankly stares at me.

"Were you enjoying, seeing such a bloody scene?"

He raises his eyebrow, pryingly.

"N-No! I actually feel quite sick. Sorry."

Walking over to me, he explained that he understood, he knew it was sick to others.

He goes back to the man and we begin to continue our conversation and I begin to continue my story. Taking out my small, black pad and blue inked, ball point pen from my jacket. Also, I take hold of my HB pencil, Untouched since the day killed the man, and begin to twiddle with it. I lie on the floor and roll it, whilst writing with my spare hand. Feeling so free for the first time in weeks. I love these scarce moments.

Later, after Johnny had finished with the man, He emerges from the room with blood smudges on his face.

"He's dead now. He won't be any more noises...Hey, is that you story thing?"

I look up and nod slowly.

"So, What is it about?"

"J-Just about a guy whole loves another male and is embarrassed to admit this as he is already a social outcast and doesn't want to feel any worse. The other male is also a reject which makes them very alike."

I fidget with my pencil, twirling it. I look away with blush covering my face palely. He places his chin between his thumb and index finger and looks as if he is thinking about the storyline carefully. O r thinking of who to torture next.

"Hmm."

The clock from the rooms above, chime loudly as it strikes midnight.

"Is it that late already?"

"Yes, it is and your story. It resembles your life in anyway?"

"O-Oh God! N-No!"

I look away from him, blushing deeply. A shadow appears over myself.

"I think it must...Your body language has told me a different story from your words."

He looks over at my work, noticing the lustreless, reddish-brown stain on my pencil. He lifts it up and examines it, carefully.

"This is blood on this pencil, isn't it? How did such a vile substance get on your pure pencil?"

I turn around to him, responding to his words. Seeing what he is looking at, I begin to panic. Looking around frantically, ideas to come up with a story. No inspiration. Nothing. It's so empty down here(Except for the other people).

"U-Um...I cut myself off a wall, which was cracked, and my blood bled onto the tip of my pencil when I raised my arm... I was writing at the time."

He continues to stare at it, analysing every inch of it.

"This isn't your blood...and the tip is cracked...Not from writing...A force of plunging...Anyway... Your story?"

"Shouldn't you clean that guys body up. I-It's kinda creepy..."

I said, trying to avoid answering anything he asked. He looks over at the man and sighs, lifting up the body by his collar, telling me to come with him. Mentioning he was just going to use the short-cut to my house. The vents.

"I haven't used it in years. So it will be spacious...Covered in many inanimate skeletons."

"Y-Yeah."

Following him down, through the vents, he catches a whiff of something and begins to sniff the air.

" Eurgh! It smells like something has died recently!"

He looks around, noticing a, nearly, fully flesh human corpse and begins to pace over to it. Johnny bends down and lifts it up, hauling the body up by the shirt collar, muttering something about 'not remembering killing the man' and studies it and spots the hole in the forehead. Calling me over, I quickly potter over to him as he asks me for my pencil. My heart begins to pound ever so much as if it was trying to break free from my chest. I reluctantly pass him my pencil. Roughly, he takes the pencil from my hand and compares it with the size and pushes it into the gap in the dead man's head. I back up a bit, trying to act like I was going to be sick.

"Squee?"
"Y-Yes?"

"Did you do this?"

He asks me, worryingly.

"M-Me? N-No! I wouldn't...I couldn't hurt anyone..Anyway...Schmee absorbs all those feelings of resent, sadness or anything bad that happens to me."
"He does?"

He looks over at me with interest in his eyes. He walks over to me and asks where Schmee is.

"I'm guessing Schmee is like your controller, your master and you listen to him like a zombie slave?"
I shake my head in response and tell him that ' I never listen to the bad things Schmee tells me to do'.

"But once you did..Didn't you?"

I look away and mumble a yes. A small frown appears on my face. Johnny looks away sorrowfully and turns his head to the ground.

" I couldn't save you. I didn't save you from loosing your pureness. I have failed in being your mentor."

"N-No! You didn't!"

I pulls myself to him and wrap my arms around him, sobbing weakly. His arms rise into the air, probably trying to find a way to get me off him. My hair moves a bit as Johnny runs his fingers through my hair. Looking up at him, I see him smiling, trying to feel comfortable.

"Lets us go back up the stairs,yes?"

I rub my eyes and agree with him. He passes me back my pencil and holding onto me he helps me up the stairs.

After a half hour journey back up, I take a deep breath of fresh, pure air. Johnny brushes himself off . He walks over to me and smiles slightly,

"I think I may know what part of your life your story is based off..."

I looks up at him, my face flustering with a reddish-pink tone. He looks at me,

"Oh and happy birthday."

he hesitantly brings his face closer to mine and slowly, places his lips upon mine. My face turns completely red from such actions. I begin to kiss back. For another 20 seconds we continue to kiss and Johnny then breaks the kiss and turns the opposite direction from me.

"You must be tired..You can sleep on the couch..If you need me, I'll be awake most of the night."
"O-Okay."

My finger hover, centimetres away from my lips, still blushing. Johnny turns around, tinted lightly with a pale pink, standing out from his yellow skin. He waves and walks down the stairs. I lift schmee up, wrap my arms around him and bury my face into his soft materials.