June 15, 2000
She walked tenaciously down the street. She had searched for this street for too long, and now that search was finally going to pay off. Yes, this could be called stalking, but it was for a good reason. He at least needed to know something important if nothing else. She would have been fine simply with providing him what he needed to know, as she was used to isolation.
Yet the sound of Devi's own voice did not stop. Even after she tore Sickness's eyes out of her head, it did not stop her from talking. She generally put most of it out of her mind or ignored her entirely; most of it was about her lack of connection with the outside world, her awful dates, her having finally gotten a job. But something Sickness said struck a chord with her, this being that Johnny was still in the demons' enslavement. If that and her love for him was not motivation enough, she also got a call from a very important man concerning Johnny.
She tried to stay focused. Somehow, the knowledge that Johnny lived here in Orlando, Florida appeared in her mind about a month ago; she just had the worst time finding this street. Her feet moved in a brisk stride as the distance between her and the apartment door lessened. There was a nervous feeling in her gut. She had not seen him in a few years and feared this confrontation; all she knew was that she loved him, she had decided that long ago, and that she wanted to help him. This had to be done, and there was no way around it. She was pleased to be the one to deliver this man's message and was even happier to tell him what she had learned from her own experiences.
It did not change the fact, however, that she was fearful and nervous about seeing him again. Long years had passed; how could she not feel awkward and what if he tried to kill her again?
As she walked down the sidewalk, she saw a floating, static covered screen pass by with two young kids behind it, one a nerdy boy with the biggest cowlick she had seen in her life (not to mention the biggest head) and the other a spooky looking girl with what appeared to be hot pink hair and a video game in her hands. They passed each other, and suddenly the girl bumped into her, causing them both to stumble but not fall.
"Watch where you're going," the girl growled, barely audibly under her breath.
"Geez; sorry, kid," Devi said back, obviously annoyed but not wanting to make a big thing out of it. But a feeling she could not explain, like her knowledge of Johnny's whereabouts, caused her to turn around to look at the girl. To her surprise, the girl had done the same. They stared at each other for the longest time. They both felt as if they had known each other, maybe at some different time, in some alien place. Either way, this woman and this girl had a connection neither could explain.
"Come on, honey," The floating screen said. With that, the little girl walked off.
Devi continued down the path towards Johnny's apartment. A short jog ended up getting her to the front screened-in door in no time. She looked through the list of names on the intercom buzzer. Chewy Rodriguez, Butch Hartman, Dan Vado, Dwicky (with no last name written), James Sunderland, and Piers Anthony all ran at the top of the list; finally, just below the last name was Nny C. in sloppy handwriting. He must have had one of his headaches when writing it. Devi lifted one hand to press the grimy, off-white button next to the name to call him down, only to find herself hesitating for a moment, fearing the unknown beyond that door.
With that hesitation, a rustling from Devi's backpack made her shutter again at the thought of what was in there. She reached her hand around to stifle it.
"I know you're still in there, and that you want out," Devi reassured the thing, "Don't worry; you'll get your chance. Your old host needs to see you again." She feared the man she loved, but that still would not prevent her from what this unknown sense of duty (her blood, her gut, her soul, if one would call it any of those) told her she needed to do to make things right for him. She pressed the buzzer.
"Do you really think he's going to want to see you again, let alone me?" Sickness hissed at her, using a strange combination of her voice and Johnny's. Devi could only pray.
Johnny was sitting on his ratty, ripped up couch in his apartment, an easel and sketching pencil in his hand. He had been dreaming for the past month that same reoccurring dream of a stampede of wild black horses, coming in all directions, their bright and shining fur glistening in the sun as they rode despite their dark color. He was trying to draw them and then paint what he saw but was still having more difficulty, especially since the demons of his mind had still not left him.
Generally, his dreams were nightmares, of horrid indescribable creatures that dwelt above and behind the ether of man's reality; yet, this one was so different from all of his others, giving him the gorgeous natural imagery of these beautiful animals.
"You can't go back to your art," Reverend Meat said, sitting on the set of drawers next to the couch, "You still belong to us. As long as you are still my slave, no art. You must feel in other ways."
"You know what," Johnny fired back, "I've fucking had it with you. These long years, I've been really careful about my temperament not to hurt anyone else. The only one that I want to kill is you, and yet, I can't even do that."
"Yes," Meat acknowledged, "like that time you ran me over with your car, the time you fed me to that shark, the time you let the controllers of Filler Bunny torture me. I still came back you know; I'm not leaving you." Johnny turned back to the sketch, which still did not quite look right, and he knew Meat was correct. There was still something in him that wanted to rebel, however, and it was about to fire back.
"Yeah, well," Johnny said, "even if one is a slave forever, that does not mean he'll always have the same master. Rome eventually fell, smart ass, as did Napoleon, as did Stalin. You, my friend, are going to be no different."
"So long as you continue to think that," Meat said, "you only further deny yourself the opportunity of the comforting, despairing bliss of feeling what I tell you to."
"Well," Johnny said, getting up from his couch and putting one black boot forward and leaning into Meat's view, "just you fucking wait until that day my hopes get answered. You'll see the signs; they'll come quick. I guarantee it."
"That's about as likely," Meat said, "As someone actually ringing your buzzer for a visit." Just then, the buzzer from the intercom rang right next to Johnny's door. He and Meat both fell silent, in both amazement and in the realization of irony. He walked across the room and pressed the red button in response.
"Hello," the voice on the buzzer Devi was in front of said, "Who is this?" There was some nervousness in the voice, one of disbelief that someone was actually contacting him, but Devi could not tell that.
"Johnny?" Devi said, "Is that you?"
"Yes," the voice said waveringly, "Who is this?"
"It's me, Nny," she said meekly, "It's Devi."
"Devi?" Johnny asked, "What are you doing here? I thought I told you to leave me alone. I said this out of your best interest."
"I know you did, Nny," Devi fired back, "But I need to talk with you. It's important."
"Devi, please."
"It's concerning something an FBI agent said to me."
"So, the Feds are after me now."
"Yes and no, Johnny." There was a moment's pause.
"What do you mean?" Johnny inquired, a bit less nervous.
"It's concerning a guy named Edgar Varges," Devi said, "Do you know him?"
"Actually yes," Johnny said after a moment, remembering who he was, "Alright, I'll invite you up. But, please, don't tempt me to touch you. I don't want anything bad to happen." Devi looked down for a moment. She was dressed up, hoping to appeal to Johnny's better nature; her attire consisted of black heeled leather boots, black fishnet tights, a black jagged-edged middy skirt, and a black and red corset, along with her long jacket. She pouted, worried this would go horribly wrong.
"Okay, Nny," Devi said, recovering a slight smile, "I'll try."
Devi noticed the door at the top of the stairs was slightly agar. She could see dim light creeping out of it along the dark, aged wood of the doorframe.
"Come in," Johnny's voice said from the crevice, "I left it open for you." Devi was feeling calmer than she had, yet still a little edgy, given the decor of the place. Yet, she felt like she was about to get through to him. There was a sense of confidence in her mind, heart, and soul, and she knew this is what she needed to do; this is what her blood wanted.
She walked towards the door and pushed it open, revealing Johnny, sitting on the couch in his black shirt with the black and white striped sleeves, black slacks, and buckle strap boots, all of which fit his nearly emaciated frame. The easel he was still working on was still in his lap, yet the outline of what could be seen as horses could be seen on it, whether or not he could actually see it. His hair had grown back, almost exactly as Devi had remembered it, yet his eyes looked different. Behind those brown eyes lay something that was uncertain, something that showed his tortured soul dangling in the open air before her.
"See," Reverend Meat said, "She can see the real you. You have no choice. Kill her."
"Shut up, Meat," Johnny said, turning his head to him, "I'm not letting you ruin the first time in a long time that I have company."
"Your burger boy talks to you," Devi said without showing a hint of bewilderment.
"Yes," Johnny said, turning to her, "That doesn't weird you out?"
"Johnny, honey, that's one of the reasons I'm here," Devi said as bluntly and emphatically as she could. She talked with her hands; Johnny could see this was important to her. "You see, I've met two of your old friends."
"The doughboys?" Johnny said with a look of shock on his face. He did not want to face them again, as if their torture was any different than what Meat did to him.
"Yes," Devi said, "but they're not exactly doughboys anymore."
"How do you know about them?" Johnny asked.
"They kind of got into my head in the form of a creepy doll," Devi said, "one of which I ripped the eyes out of to keep in my backpack. That still doesn't keep her from talking."
"He doesn't love you anymore," Sickness said, "Give up. Leave. It would do you both good."
"Shut up," Devi said turning her head.
"This I can see," Johnny said, "So now you know what I'm going through."
"Yes, Nny," Devi said, "I understand now. That's something that helped me regain some courage to see you again. But that's only one of the reasons I'm over here."
"That's great yet awful that you know," Johnny said, "But I'm afraid that can't help either of us. I've tried every which way to shut it all off, and I can't."
"Oh, Nny," Devi said, almost overcome with how pitiful he looked, "I'm sorry." She recovered herself a bit. "But there's more pressing matters that may actually offer hope to both our situations."
"How the hell can anything help?" Johnny asked, putting his easel on the table, "I've put up with his shit for years, and he still hasn't left me."
"But I think it's time he did now," Devi said calmly, taking a few steps forward, "and apparently, so do the Powers-that-be."
"What?" Johnny said, "You mean that god-thing is going to actually do something about them for a change?"
"God won't help you, Nny," Meat said but was quickly ignored.
"Nny, please don't hold high opinions about things you don't understand," Devi said; she could not stand anyone who thought they knew anything about religion or spirituality. "God's ways are It's own, and the cliché is true in that we're not meant to understand it all. All we can do is live our lives and battle with what the world dishes out at us. But I would like to explain what's going on if you let me." There was some annoyance still left in her voice that made Johnny fall silent.
"God won't help you, Devi," Sickness said but was quickly ignored. Thus, Sickness turned to Meat to talk to him, asking him how the weather was here in Orlando and if he was taking good care of her former slave. Devi tried to talk through the noise in her head. Johnny tried to hear the import of her words through the noise in his, getting up to put on his jacket as he felt cold for some odd reason, despite the summer weather.
"Edgar called me," Devi began, "He told me that you'd killed him at one time, and that he had come back to help you. I thought the son of a bitch was crazy until he mentioned your name. That was why he called me; wherever he came back from gave him all the answers he needed. Apparently he also works for the FBI and he wants to take you off the search list."
"But why?" Johnny asked, having put on his jacket, looking over his shoulder sheepishly before turning around, "I'm still the flusher. I could still hurt people; I'm trying my damnedest not to, as I'm so fucking sick of being controlled, but the potential is still there."
"But there's another part of his message," Devi said, a faint smile crossing her face, finally realizing the second half of what Edgar had said to her, "He also said that it was time for your flushing days to be over, that a new flusher must be selected and the old one relinquish his position. He was sent back to spread the word to me and that I might tell you." Her voice changed a bit, and she looked down at the floor. She then looked back up and continued. "And I'm glad he did, Nny. I've missed you, I want to help you, and…" There was another pause, as her eyes became watery; Nny could only stand and stare into them, amazed at the fact that she was crying and how beautiful they were. "I love you. I have since the day I met you, insane or not. I understand it all now. And now I'm here, bringing you Edgar's message, that you now have at least a glimmer of hope in this world of continual strife."
"Devi," Johnny said slowly, looking at her, her eyes, her outfit, her form, "you're beautiful. And I'll at least give you the satisfaction that…I love you, too. I'll finally say it; I love you, too. And that's why I didn't want you to get involved with me anymore, for your own protection. Even if I relinquish these demons, I'll eventually become a slave to something. In this world, no matter how hard anyone tries, they cannot escape slavery."
"Yes, Nny, that's right," Devi retorted, "we all serve something in our lives; quitting Nerve and having my little 'chat' with Sickness taught me this. But we have the power to choose who those masters might be. There is a whole sea of possibilities for each of us; we each hold the key to each of those seas." It would normally sound like she was rambling, but it made sense to Johnny. "Edgar serves his God, the FBI, and his own conscience. I serve my art and, finally, my feelings. What you serve is now up to you, not the damn doughboys, not Sickness, not that moose behind your wall that Edgar mentioned, not even that stupid burger boy over there. You're free to choose what to serve. And it's no delusion of freedom; it's real and it's yours."
Johnny looked down at the floor. He knew she was right. It was time for him to stop resisting, after so many years, the blessed thought of freedom from this oppression. He wanted to also tell her something he had always desired to, yet never finding the chance because of his oppressed soul. He looked back up at her to see that she was holding her hands out to him.
"Please, Nny," Devi said with a sympathetic face, "Let me in. I won't hurt you." She looked so beautiful, Johnny could hardly resist anymore. No more denying the glory of what could finally be for him. He took the big plunge, of faith and of composure, and fell forward, only to be wrapped in Devi's arms with his arms around her. He could not describe this novel feeling of finally connecting with another person, let alone the one he loved. Love, another novel concept, but a wonderful one, of which enraged Meat and Sickness at the very sight of it.
"Come on, Nny," Devi said, bringing him to eye level but not letting him go, "I'll take you out on the town. There's a place here across the monorail tracks I'd like to go to if you would."
"Are you talking about 'You Like It Like That'?" Johnny asked, "They play okay music every once in awhile, or so I've heard. I don't get out much as you know."
"But they're playing a band there that was one of my dad's favorites. There name is…" Devi paused, removing one hand to hold her head, "Oh shit."
"The name of the band is Oh Shit?" Johnny asked sarcastically.
"No," Devi said, laughing and patting his chest, "Their name is Twistelettes. They used to play old-school rock but now they do old-school punk, not that emo crap you find on the radio."
"Just out of curiousity," Johnny said, still holding her, "How does Edgar plan to convince the head of the FBI that I'm not a worry anymore?"
"Well," Devi began, resting her head on Johnny's shoulder again, "Whenever one comes down out of a light from the sky with a ton of witnesses including the head of the FBI himself, one generally listens to him."
"Oh great," Johnny said, "Now they're going to start thinking he's God. Knowing him, he won't like that."
"Nah," Devi said, "He's even told them he's just a messenger. But, then again, people are sometimes too stupid to listen to anything remotely important."
"Much like you are, Nny," Meat said, "when I told you there was no escape from me. Do you think some sort of message from the other side is going to force me to leave my post in your head? I like it here, and I ain't going back to Hell's diner to sell burgers to those morons again. You've seen Hell; how would you like to serve them? No, I'm controlling you forever Nny."
"As am I you, Devi," Sickness said from within her backpack, "I myself wasn't supposed to be here, but I've finally found a unity with myself and a person to torment, like that time I sang 'Henry the Eighth' to you when you were trying to sleep. I'm not leaving either; I'd just fall apart if I had to go back to Hell." There was a pulse between Johnny and Devi, who were at first ignoring their demons, yet were driven apart by the shock as Devi's backpack opened and Sickness's eyes flew out. The eyes then darted towards those of Reverend Meat's and, touching, screwed themselves in. Meat then turned a dark sewage green and began to reek horribly.
"We are now Sickening Meat," the new incarnation said in a deep hollow voice.
Johnny, holding his nose, ran over to the thing and picked it up.
"Listen, fucker," Johnny said, "I have a chance at a new life. I'm not about to let you fuck me over like you have for so many years. You're done, Meat. Go back to Hell where you belong." With that, he threw the beast out the window, breaking the glass.
Yet, as Sickening Meat hit the outside air, it seemed to float for a moment, turn back, and immediately turn into a monstrously large horror from something outside of his nightmares, still having the same head, however, yet having grown. It whipped one of its black and white striped tentacles back into the window and wrapped it around Johnny before falling, pulling him outside with it.
The creature fell with a loud crash into the construction site on the road between the city apartment complexes. Thankfully, the workers were off work, so as not to have to smell this monstrosity, let alone see its maddening sight. It appeared as a large pile of grey and green rotted flesh, all surrounded by Reverend's gigantic head with Sickness's screws in his eyes and four black and white striped tentacles, including the one holding Johnny. This did not mean, however, that numerous others walking the street had the same luxury. Some stopped and stared, some gazed in awe and horror, while others just walked on by, reflecting on something worse in their day, like their dead-end job at selling diapers door to door, especially when one of the children decides to steal one of the products and test its durability and performance right there in the living room, only to have it fail…all over the floor.
Johnny struggled to break free, but the stress was brought to no avail. The creature whipped him through the air and slammed him against the side of the building several times in rapid succession, each thump sending a wave of pain through Johnny's body. After the fourth slam, the creature through Johnny's injured body to the ground.
The fallen angel that was Sickening Meat then loomed its head over and looked down at Johnny.
"Aww, pretty boy," it said, "can't you show me nothing but surrender?" Despite the pain from the slams, Johnny could still bring himself to focus, not on the monstrosity, but on the strength of one small boy named Todd. This was a boy who went through so much horror throughout his life, yet still had the strength to smile every once in awhile, who still fought against his demons, who dealt with them in a way that not even Johnny was strong enough to do. He knew now that this boy's strength could be his.
"Life is full of pain," Johnny said, getting up on one elbow before raising himself in a squatted position, leaning on one knee, "But it's cruised through my brain long enough. Time to send you back to Hell, motherfucker." Johnny threw his arms out in opposite directions, and out of the sleeves came his two smiling and frowning knives, each attached to a steel chain which connected to two bracelets on his arms that activated each time he would put on the jacket.
He flung his right arm at the beast and released the knife, sending it into the air long enough to finally hit the beast in the screw-like eye. Meat roared in pain at the impact. Johnny then leaped over a portion of the ground that had been opened up from the construction, giving him enough momentum to swing on the now lengthened steel chain up to the top of Meat's enormous head. Johnny then used the other knife and jammed it in the creatures other eye. Meat screamed again a roar that would madden any sane man, but fortunately Johnny was already both insane and used to Meat's annoying voice. Johnny then looked down and saw the answer, a steel beam sticking out of the ground in the construction. He leaped off of Meat's head, giving himself leverage from the momentum of the chains, landing on the concrete next to the beam. He then began pulling each of those chains, using all his strength to finally fight and slay his demon, once and for all. Finally, his strength gave way to results, impaling Meat's forehead on the steel beam in front of Johnny. The monstrous horror let out one final maddening cry before huffing its last breath and dissolving into a black acidic mass. Johnny retracted his knives and stared in his state of exhaustion and pain, along with the relief of the victory over this beast.
"It's finally over," Johnny said with a sigh of that relief, yet still not quite fully believing what just happened. Devi came running from the front of the apartment towards Johnny and wrapped her arms around him.
"Johnny, are you okay?" She asked in a hurried concern, "Oh, you were amazing. It's finally over. You did it. You made it possible for us to live our lives, slaves to these stupid beasties no more."
"Yes," Johnny said, slowly taking her in his arms as well, "Maybe now you and I can learn together what it means to be free."
Among the amazed onlookers was the cowlicked boy with a camera, who had been snapping images until the film was gone.
"Gaz," he said to his sister, who was standing next to him playing a game, "Did you see that? A real corporal demon! The Swollen Eyeball will have to listen to me on this one!" His sister only let out a grunt of indifference and walked on.
Johnny and Devi were sitting outside the club "You-Like-It-Like-That", waiting for them to open the doors. Devi, looking as sweetly beautiful as she ever could have to Johnny, was leaning on a parking meter, just looking over at him with an inviting stare.
"Glad I came back?" she asked.
"Yes," Johnny said, "I'm sorry I ever pushed you away."
"But that shit's behind us now," Devi said, "Now, we have our lives back. We can finally make our own way, without living in fear."
"We have that sea of possibilities opened to us," Johnny said, "And I'm glad that I can finally share that with you, without the fear of things deteriorating." They reached out and held each other and leaned in to kiss, and suddenly Johnny interrupted.
"You know," he said, "If I'm no longer the flusher, who's the new flusher."
"Johnny," Devi said, "It's not your problem anymore. So, shut up and kiss me." She quickly leaned forward and felt her lips collide with his, sending an array of sparks through both of their bodies. Johnny closed his eyes after a moment during this long passionate kiss and thought he could see something, something far away but coming closer through the blackness. It was the image of a man, in white sheets, one of age and the appearance of wisdom. The image of this man seemed to be dancing, as if to some simple rock and roll song.
Jimmy woke up on the floor of a now abandoned house. He looked on each side of him, seeing perfectly unstained sickles along with a meat mallet.
"How am I still alive?" He asked the air.
"Because we allow you to be that way," said a voice that sounded similar to his own. He looked over at the staircase across from his feet and saw what looked like two Styrofoam doughboys standing and staring at him.
"And you shall be our new friend," the other (or so he assumed) said. "And you can live forever, as long as you continue to perform one simple task: kill." Jimmy smiled at this prospect. This could be a wonderful friendship indeed.