Everything goes black when you die.
Tinzo—I do not own Johnny the Homicidal Maniac.
That movie sucked.
Johnny wondered why Michael Bay was allowed to make movies anymore. Still, he had hope. Hope always dangled on a burning rope in his life. He had hoped that maybe just once, he could hope to gain more hope for his hope for good movies. But not this time. This time, the master of never ending nightmares has done it again; making a movie that was unbearable to the human eye. What made it worse was hearing the men, women, boys, and girls leave the theater saying "Man, that was so good." Ah yes, tonight, Johnny will kill somebody.
He took a midnight stroll downtown. The night was black, cold, and beautiful. This was good, because beautiful nights always mean ugly people. This was just another night where maggots all around become flies, and bad people WILL sink even further below the black water, just to feel a little more powerful than the bug they truly are. Tonight, was that kind of night.
Tonight, Johnny felt the itch that a blade couldn't even scratch without the help of an unkind stranger.
Johnny feels it.
Johnny wants it.
Johnny needs it.
Tonight, Johnny will bring out the meaning of what it is to turn a steel blade and a little charisma into a crimson wonderland.
The city was full of people. Some of them held hands, and some of them were alone. They, however, were all smiling. Including Johnny. He button up his long black coat to fight the cold weather. The blade that lays hidden under his coat remained as still as the moon in the sky. After a little while, Johnny saw a man in his mid-twenties. He seemed as though he had darkness that dwelled in his eyes. The man approached him, and Johnny quickly put his hand on his blade.
"Excuse me, sir." The man said with a smile.
Johnny immediately frowned, but slowly let go of his weapon. "Yes?"
"I don't mean to bother, but I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of the nearest café?"
Johnny slowly lifted his hand. "Straight down the way you came, about half a mile." He said, with his finger extended.
"Thank you so much. Have a good night."
The man turned around and began to travel backwards. Johnny stood there, amazed. He seemed polite enough, and was that 'respect' that he showed Johnny? He had forgotten the meaning of the word a long, long time ago.
He pressed his back against the brick building behind him and slowly brought himself down. "FUCK!" he screamed. What was that? That figures. He had never been in the mood to perform an ensemble of slaughter with no throat to slit.
"FUCK!" He screamed again. "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"
"HEY!" screamed a man across the street.
Johnny looked up. Could this be him? Could this be the one who will set free the monster dwelling within Johnny?
The man crossed and walked straight up to Johnny.
"There are children around here, you know? That kind of language is unnecessary."
Johnny cocked an eyebrow. It killed him inside, but he knew that he was the one in the wrong this time.
"I…I…"
"Hey man, are you ok?"
Johnny stood up. "Did you just ask me if I was…ok?"
"Yeah. I mean, you were sitting there screaming curse words. Nobody does that unless they are having a really bad night." He out his hand on Johnny's shoulder. "I promise, what ever is bothering you, it will all be ok one day."
With that, the man walked back across the street and continued his way. What the fuck…nobody is EVER that nice.
"I need to get home…" Johnny said out loud to nobody listening.
The walk home has never been so long. Johnny couldn't stop thinking about people. Why was there nobody not worth the shit under his boots walking the streets tonight?
"I really needed to kill somebody…" he thought. Tonight however, the moon struck light into Johnny's mind, and in obnoxious neon-light letters spelled 'hope'. Perhaps, there was hope in mankind.
Johnny approached his driveway and looked at his disgusting house. "Tonight, I was the piece of shit…" he said to his porch. That is when he heard the rustling in the bushes behind him. He quickly whipped out the blade on his side and turned around.
Nothing.
The silent bushes behind him were screaming reminders of how truly insane he really was. That is when he felt a thin rope wrap around his neck and brought him crashing to the ground. He tried to pull the rope off of his neck, but the dark figure above him had a tight grip around him. The figure slowly dragged the choking Johnny into his own house.
Johnny watched his door close. The light from the moon was now shunned.
Tinzo: I hope you liked chapter 1.