Insanity kind of snuck up on Dib. For years he had run off every psychologist that came to town and even his dad was giving up hope when Dr. J.C. Vera came and seemed to 'cure' Dib of his insane notions. Even though he hadn't given up on the thought of the paranormal, especially not aliens, he seemed calmer and less prone to random freak-outs. But even the strongest person in the world will crumble under pressure and pressure was tossed ton upon ton on Dib. Logic states he would have to crack sometime.
-x-
"FAG!!!!" Torque threw a rock at Dib, who was chatting with Zim, talking of space travel and the like. When the rock beaned him on the head he did nothing but a torrent of bigger rocks followed, all accompanied with cries of "Fag!" and "Look at the little faggot!" and "Stupid little shit! Fucking faggot needs to go and burn!" It was no longer just Torque, but all of the 'popular' kids and even some of the rejects that wanted to simply be accepted.
Dib's eye twitched slightly and he clenched his fists tightly in anger. "Sh-shut up…"
"Awww…" Torque mocked him, pouting slightly, "Does the little fag wanna go and cry to his boooyfriend?" That comment earned him laughs and he continued, sure of his power over the children now, "Why don't you kiss your boyfriend, Dib? Why don't you just place one big smooch on his lips and then maybe suck his cock! Yeah, give Zim a blowjob for us Dib! Show us how much you really love him!"
Dib just stood there, his fists clenching even tighter, almost drawing blood. 'All you have to do is hurt them, hurt them enough that they won't ever try and hurt you ever again…' a cold, smooth voice in his head said, hissing menacingly.
'No! Don't. Zim's just a friend and they're just being kids, stupid little kids.' Dib countered in his head.
A rock glanced off of his face and he heard a sharp 'CRACK' and blood trickled down his nose. Zim, previously frozen in his spot because of the overwhelming confusion welling up inside of him, suddenly flew into action. He stood up to his full height and goose-stepped in front of Dib angrily, "LEAVE HIM ALONE!!!!"
"Awwww, the fag's little foreign bitch is saving him…how cute." Torque and the rest began to throw rocks at Zim as well. "Try and stop us you stupid freak of nature!"
'Hurt them, they're hurting Zim' the voice said.
'Zim is hurting and you're to blame' another voice added, raspier than the first, 'Don't take it out on them, take it out on the one who caused all this pain, you.'
'No. And what is Zim to me? Lately I've noticed he's stopped trying to take over the world. We're better friends now – and why should I care anyways?' he asked the voices.
'Because you know there's more than that. You weren't just obsessed, you were a stalker. You watched his every move and made sure you knew if he even sneezed. You knew everything there was to know about him. And don't try to lie to yourself and tell yourself that it was all in the name of parascience.' A third voice remarked, sounding more like Dib than the others.
'No, no…I can't' his eye twitched again and his nails dug deeper into his palm as more and more rocks hit him. Then there was a sharp cry from Zim as a rock hit him in the face and then the gut. Life-goo flew from his mouth and he doubled over.
'They hurt Zim. Stop them. STOP THEM!' his nails bit further and further into his skin as Zim cried out some more, black ichor flying from his lips.
Blood seeped from Dib's palm where his nails had long since broken skin and it trickled on to the earth as something in him snapped in two. "STOP IT!!!!!!!!!!!" he shrieked and rushed at Torque. The older child just sat there and laughed: he was twice Dib's size and there was nothing that little boy could do to hurt him – but there was. Dib had studied past all the other students in Skool, he knew more than them and, deep in the repertoire of his knowledge he knew how to hurt people…a lot.
Dib's fist connected with Torques face and there was a 'snap' and a gush of blood, "By dose!!! De widdre fad brode by dose!!!" Torque shrieked, the pain blinding him and making him want to puke. Before he had a chance to retaliate, Dib's fist connected again and he doubled over from a blow to the solar plexus, then a kick in the balls, then a swift blow to the back of a neck at a pressure-point and Torque collapsed, blood oozing from his nose and his open mouth. But Dib wasn't done.
He stood over Torque pounding him over and over and over again, "I'M NOT A FAG! I'M NOT A FAG!!! TAKE IT BACK!!!!!!" He was unrelenting in his vendetta, "TAKE IT BACK!!!!!"
The other students rushed forwards, trying to get Dib off of Torque. "Stop it! Stop it Dib, the game isn't funny! It isn't funny anymore!" Zim just lay there, doubled over, blood trickling from his mouth.
"I'M NOT A FAG! TAKE IT BACK! TAKE IT BACK!!!!!" Dib finally was removed from Torque by three members of the local Hi-Skool football team, his fists still swinging, his face stained with blood that wasn't quite all his, his glasses fractured slightly. Then he was sent home with a note to be given to his father saying that he had put Torque in the hospital and that he was suspended for the next three weeks for assaulting another student.
-x-
When he got home, the Professor wasn't there, as usual. He went upstairs and began to clean off his face and used the first-aide kit in the bathroom to bandage his cuts up. 'That-that actually felt good.' He thought to himself, looking in the mirror, smiling at the blood that graced his bony features, licking some of it off of his fingers.
'See, you stopped them, and it felt good didn't it?' the smooth voice asked smugly. He bandaged up his hand and walked out of the bathroom, playing with his broken glasses, only to come face-to-face with Gaz.
"Hey Gaz."
"What the hell was that?!!" she asked, pinning him against the wall.
"What? I just defended myself, isn't that okay?" He tried to get past her only to be blocked off at every turn.
"No, like HELL it is! You put the kid in the hospital! He had three fractured ribs, a broken nose, and internal bleeding! And he's gonna need counseling for WEEKS!!!" she glared at him, "What the hell was your problem?! He was carted off babbling, 'Dib is NOT a fag….Dib is NOT a fag…' the entire time!" she clenched her fists even tighter as she moved closer to him.
He chuckled, "Good, he deserved that. I'm NOT a fag." He tried to sidestep his sister again.
"No, he DIDN'T deserve that! NO ONE deserves that!" she began to lose her cool, her Game Slave slipping from her fingers onto the ground.
"And yet I deserve that?!" Dib shouted, the voices in his head all talking at once, filling him with streams of 'hurt her…' and 'you DID deserve it…' and 'quiet the both of you!', "I deserved various hospital visits from abuse from you and millions of wounds received from constant wailings from Torque and his stooges. I can't administer some justice of my own?" He began to step forward and the tone in his voice made Gaz back off a bit, "So you can hurt me, and they can hurt me – but I can't hurt back?! That I have to take it and hold it in and never tell anyone? Cause that's what I did, Gaz. I held it in and didn't even tell Dr. Vera about it. And you know what that little thing at the Skool was? That was all those years of hurt, all those years of being punched and kicked and being called a freak and a weirdo coming back out at the ones who put that shit in!" he stepped forward again and a look of fear began to materialize on Gaz's face "So my feelings don't matter, huh?" Another step, "My medical bills don't matter?" Another step and she was up against the wall, their positions reversed, "You care about every other little SHIT on the face of the earth but not your own brother?!" He had a shard of his glasses in his hand and it was drawing blood from his injured, recently bandaged fingers.
'That's it; make her afraid, she doesn't care. She could give a DAMN about you! If she won't care, MAKE her care. And if you can't make her care, make her afraid.' The smooth voice hissed dangerously, whispering thoughts into Dib's head, making him even angrier, all reason gone. Only that voice remained – the others quiet or muffled by its power.
"YOU'RE NOT MY BROTHER DIB!!!!!" she shrieked as she watched the blood trickle down his lean fingers and drip on the floor, the shard of glass glinting dangerously. "Dad cloned you! I'm adopted and you're a clone of dad! We're not related – we're not even CLOSE to related!"
"What does related have to do with anything?" Dib's voice was dangerously low and quiet, "I never said we had to be related to be family. You're my family Gaz…Dad's never home and even if he is he doesn't care. You're the only family I have…" He crooned softly to her, smiling at her trembling form.
"I-I didn't…" she stuttered, truly afraid for the first time in her life, "I didn't think…"
His soft, creepy smile turned into a frown, "Of course," he pulled away, dropping the glass in his hands and the rest of his glasses on the floor, "You never think…All you do is play your stupid Game Slave and eat and beat the shit out of defenseless people. You're just another mindless fuck on the face of the earth." He backed off and began to walk away, leaving her sitting with her back against the wall, shivering. He stopped only once and tossed a sentence over his shoulder with some protests from the voice, "Tell dad I've died…tell everyone I've died." Then he left the house, taking nothing with him and leaving everything behind, everything but one person.
-x-
Dib stood before the crooked, glowing, green house and stared at its front, waiting for the thing he'd know would come. Zim poked his head out, wig and contacts in place and shouted, "Dib-filth!!! How dare you disgrace the step of the amazing Zim's home?!"
"May I come in?" he had, without effort, passed the gnomes and reached his front door which surprised the small alien.
"Eh…of course, come in…" Zim winced slightly and backed away from the doorframe letting him come in. "Why are you here?"
"I'm going away for a very long time." Dib said, unemotionally, staring at the base in a new light – seeming to absorb the sights he saw and the sounds he heard and everything around him. "And I thought I'd stop here to ask a favor of you."
"Huh? A favor? Of me? Your most amazing nemesis?!" Zim began to crescendo in volume with each question.
"No, not a favor from my nemesis, a favor from my friend…from the person who was the only one not throwing rocks at me." He stared into his large magenta orbs and saw his own gaunt face reflected in them, the same color as when it was drenched in Torque's and his own blood. He shivered slightly.
"Friend? I only—" Zim protested. Then he looked in Dib's lifeless amber eyes, unadorned by the normal round glasses, "Is everything okay Dib?"
There was a pause in which both parties stared deep into each others eyes, unmoving and unblinking, an unspoken challenge issued to see which would give in first. Then Dib broke away, "It's just…will you promise me that favor? I'll tell you if you promise."
Zim thought about it, "Okay Dib-stink, I promise, what is the favor and what is wrong? Tell Ziiiim."
"The favor is—" Dib leaned close to Zim, "Don't touch the Earth until I come back to this town. Resume your normal life while I'm gone and when I return you can continue to plot the Earth's demise." Zim tried to speak but Dib held up a finger, "The problem is this town. This whole fucking town thinks I'm crazy!" he began to gesticulate madly and nearly knocked a vase containing fake flowers off of the table, "They call me a freak and a weirdo and a loser and I can FEEL it! I can feel the crazy inside of me! It's like their words have manifested themselves and are infiltrating my body and assimilating me with their fucking twisted ideals! Every time they call me freak, or weirdo, or crazy I can feel it seep into my bones. I wanna tear my fucking skull off but something inside me tells me not to. There are three voices in my head Zim, three fucking voices made because of them and their fucking 'crazy' and 'insane' and 'weirdo' and 'fag'! Three voices talking all at once! One urging me to kill them, to make them hurt. One telling me to kill myself, to make them happy and leave this world so they have no one left to vent on and the third is the first voice that was ever in my head to begin with, MY voice. It tells me to be strong and do what's right and that they can hurt me but in the end they're only hurting themselves. And it's gotten so bad that I can't hear myself think! I don't even know who myself is!" Zim gave him a worried look but Dib continued, "So I'm going away, I'm going far away where I can start ALL over again. But I'll come back, and when I do, the entire TOWN better be ready cause I'm gonna fuck 'em ALL over. Their corpses will LITTER the ground! I'm gonna murder you, you hear?!!!!" He screamed to the town, his voice echoing off of the smooth walls of Zim's base, "When I get back you're all DEAD! Everyone who's ever done me harm – anyone who's ever laughed at me or hurt me or turned a blind eye towards my pain, you're all dead!!!!"
"What of Zim?…" the Irken asked quietly, his voice faint. "Zim hurt you more than anyone, Zim made everyone hate you more, Zim is the cause of all your troubles…what of Zim? Will you kill Zim as well?"
Dib's manic look vanished without a trace, leaving only a sad 'kicked puppy' look on his face, "No Zim…not you…not ever." And he reached across the table and pressed his lips to the aliens soft, green mouth, his tongue exploring the other's cavernous maw – running along the zipper-like teeth, brushing against the snake-like tongue. Then he pulled away, "That's why Zim. That's why I could never hurt you like that." Then he got up and walked away, leaving only this comment, "Wait for me. We'll bring this city to its knees!"
-x-
Darkness descended upon that quiet town as Dib left it, moving north, away from those people. He walked for hours on end until he realized that he was hungry. This was the very first time he was ever denied food at the time he wanted it and it made him rather upset. Dib looked around at the small town he was in, at the restaurants and the convenience stores and shook his head, "No, not gonna steal…if I'm gonna eat, I'm gonna pay for it with money." He sat down and began to cry at the people passing by, "Sir, Ma'am, could you spare some change?" Everyone ignored him, "Change? Anyone have money that they can spare? I'm hungry and I have no money…Please?" The walked by as if he wasn't even there.
Then one guy stopped and Dib's spirits rose. He stared at the small gaunt boy with the scythe-shaped hair and frowned, "No soliciting you little shit!" Then he kicked Dib in the chest a couple times and began to walk off.
Dib grabbed on to the man's pants, "Sir…I just need money for food…that was uncalled for…"
"Get the fuck off of me you fucking beggar!" He kicked at Dib's hand and stepped on his fingers, earning a small squeal from him.
Dib got up shakily before he could walk off, his eyes shaded dangerously, "You should be a little more considerate." He huffed, moving closer to the angry man, cradling his injured fingers, "That wasn't very nice of you…"
"Yeah, well I don't give no damn money to fucking beggars, 'specially not fags."
'Oh…' the smooth voice sighed, the loudest one at the time, 'he deserves this. Do it Dib…fuck em' over!'
Dib lashed a swift kick at the man, hitting him in the chest, "I am NOT a fag!" He shrieked, "I am not a fucking fag!!!!" he hit the man each time, stressing the word 'not' and 'fag'. Then he reached on the ground and found a small bit of broken glass from a beer bottle and cut the word 'FAG' in the man, laughing at his screams and squeals as the glass bit into his skin. "I'm not a fag! How does it feel to have your words thrown back at you in the form of real pain, huh? Hurts huh? I bet it does!"
"Please!!!!" the man unceremoniously begged, crying as the twelve-year-old slashed open his torso, drawing blood from every angle. "I'll-I'll never do it again, I promise!"
Dib leered, the smooth voice egging him on, "Oh, I'm sure you won't…but it's a bit too late for you to practice that in life so DIE YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!!!" And he brought the glass down, severing the man's head and bathing in the warm spray of blood. He stood up and brushed himself off, favoring his hurt fingers.
'That was spectacular m'boy!' the smooth voice urged, 'Quite wonderful for the first try! Now, see if he has any money.'
"But that'd be stealing!" he replied, eyes wide as he looked at the empty street.
'He's already dead, he's not using it where he's going.'
"Oh…" Dib rifled through the man's pocket and found a wallet. Opening it he removed the cash inside, "Oh wow, three THOUSAND dollars!" He ginned wildly and pocketed the cash then looked at his ID, "It says his name was Johnny C.…"
'So?'
"If I'm going to start a new life, I gotta' have a new name, yes?" Dib asked the voices in his head, "So why not Johnny C.? Though it IS a bit long…" Dib mused as he walked off, leaving the body just laying there, "Johnny…John? No. Jo? Eech…Nny? Nny…" He rolled it off his tongue, weighing each syllable carefully, "Nny. Yeah, that sounds good. My name's Johnny C. but just call me Nny!" He smiled as he entered the next strip mall in the town, stopping at a convenience store to buy a SuckMunkee for the road. "Hey mister, you got any cherry SuckMunkee here? I can't seem to find it."
"I'm afraid not…" the bored server said, sighing deeply, "We do, however, serve Brainfreezys."
Dib rolled his eyes and forked over the cash for a 32 oz. cherry Brainfreezy, "Well, it's gonna have to do…" He walked off, leaving that town and moving in to the next.
-x-
This town was more heavily populated and every time he took one step, an adult three times his height would shove him out of the way or step on him or give him a look and call him a "Stupid little shit".
The smooth voice whispered to him comfortingly, 'Look, here are a ton of people just BEGGING to die. Why don't you just practice on them before you go home, eh?'
Dib paused and was knocked over and then trampled on by several thousand Goths and Punks going to a rave at a nightclub. When he stood up and dusted himself, off, his injured fingers hurting horribly, he nodded. These would be his practice targets. These people would die first.
-x-
He continued to walk, moving from one region of the town to another. From rave-town to gang-land, to the iron center of the town and outward until he found it. There was a small, old abandoned house in the armpit of the residential area of the town. "This looks perfect, no one will come in here and I bet there's a zombie or two in here that I could check out!" his love of the paranormal had not been quelled when he left home, only suppressed by that never-ending hatred. He pried open the door, which was boarded up with rotten two-by-fours and walked in.
The home itself was no more spectacular on the inside as it had been on the outside, the inside being that of a small wooden shanty with cement floors. The entire place looked rat-eaten and there were small animal corpses in there as well as two Styrofoam Pillsbury Doughboy cut-outs in the far corner.
"Welcome home Nny…" he muttered to himself. "Welcome home…"
-x-
The first thing the newly christened 'Nny' did after eating some Spaghetti-O's was explore the far reaches of the house. At first, the place seemed like little more than what it looked like, a two-room, one bathroom house (and by two-room it meant a dining room/kitchen and a bedroom) but, upon further inspection, the house had a basement that ran deep into the earth, a giant labyrinth of tunnels and caves that spanned for miles and probably spread throughout the entire town. Then Nny got to refurnishing.
Now, he wanted everyone to stay away so he left the front rather dejected as it was but he needed a place to sleep in and a place to put his clothes and a TV to watch 'Mysterious Mysteries of Strange Mystery' on. He went out to the town, ignoring all the people that pushed him aside and called him names and walked into a small appliance store and walked out with a piece-of-shit TV and down thirty bucks. Then he returned home, went back to buy a dresser, a fridge, then a couch cause he figure he'd never want to sleep on a bed anyways. However, on his way back from buying groceries to stock the fridge, he came across a small art store that was going out of business.
-x-
Nny paused and thought to himself, 'Well, I will need a hobby now that I can no longer hunt and/or stalk Zim' he blushed slightly at the thought of his name, 'So why not art?'. He went inside and looked around – the place was amazing,! It was packed head-to-toe with paint and canvases and brushes and how-to books and all sorts of fun stuff.
"Welcome to Muse, art supply store. How may I help you?" A young girl asked chipperly.
"This place is so cool…why's it shutting down?" Nny was so amazed his jaw almost hit the floor. He ran over and looked at the paint sets and the canvases as well as the occasional how-to book. He took one off the shelf and flipped through it.
"We didn't have enough customers. That and we get robbed on a constant basis." The girl smiled apologetically, "My name's Ærin by the way."
Nny smiled and took her hand, "Name's Nny." he went back to browsing the shelves, "So, you got anything good on painting? I have a lot of free time and-"
She interrupted, "I got one right here," she pulled a book off the shelf above his head and handed it to him, "It's called 'Finding Your Inner Muse'. It was written by the lady that ran the store. She was a real nice lady…" Ærin trailed off and looked at the floor sadly.
"What happened?"
"Well…a gang member, part of the Reapers, tried to rob the store about a week ago. The lady stood against him and he…he had a gun—"
Nny scowled, "Guns are ugly things…"
'Their death is quick – this is an idea! Use a gun! Train it on yourself! Then it will be over! No more pain!' the raspy voice said cordially.
"She…the ambulance didn't get here in time and…he got away with hundreds of dollars…we're going out of business because her son's some rich asshole who doesn't have the 'time' or the 'resources' to uphold her only pride and joy…" Ærin began to cry softly, "We have to sell everything for a quarter of the price…"
"I'm…I'm sorry…" Nny paused, reaching for what was left of the three thousand in his pocket. "Hey, will you help me find something?"
"Sure, what?" she straightened up and swept her auburn hair back with a practiced flip of the head. "I need…this book, a few brushes in various sizes, the best paint set you've got, and…ten or so canvases as well as a small sketchbook. Y'think you could do that for me?" Nny asked, tilting his so-called 'abnormally large' head inquisitively.
"Well, yeah, I think I can do that" Ærin gave him an odd look as she started to gather the materials he requested, "Are you sure you'll be able to carry all this?" He nodded and she went about her job. "At seventy-five percent off this totals up to…one hundred fifty-three forty-five."
"Here," Nny handed her the wad of cash and walked off, art supplies and groceries with him.
-x-
Ærin opened the wad of cash and slowly counted the bills, eyes widening with every zero added. "Two thousand, six hundred fifty-four dollars!!! But I—" He was gone. She hugged the money to her chest and cried softly, "Thank you God…I'm sure the lady asked you to do this for her. I'll uphold her dream with this – I'm gonna bring the store back in business and if I ever see that Nny kid again, he can have anything he wants!" She locked the store up and began to walk to the bank, eyes brimming with tears, "Two thousand…" she walked almost all the way to the bank when she was shot.
"Thank you God for this bountiful Harvest today. May this young whore's soul ROT in hell." The Reaper said as he removed the cash from her fingers. As he ran his fingers through the wad of tens and fives and ones, a small piece of paper fell out and he picked it up and read it.
"This is for the lady's art shop. You need it more than I do and you're the only person in this whole fucking town that didn't look down on me or call me a 'little shit'. When I finish my painting, I'll bring it over to Muse so you can hang it up, 'kay?" It was signed, next to a scribble where he had messed up writing his name, "—Nny".
The Reaper scoffed and wadded it up, "Stupid whore. She gave him 'art' and he gave her two grand. Wonder how much this little fucker makes anyway…" He searched her corpse for more cash and then, finding none, left her there where she would rot in the rising sun.
-x-
Nny sat in the 'bedroom' of his house and sketched for hours on end. He drew Zim and Gaz, twisted images of all the people he knew, his father torn in pieces, werewolves and vampires, all sorts of things while he waited for sleep to come. When sleep eluded him further he decided to watch some TV. He had hotwired the entire house to run off of a lemon battery and a ton of wheat germ and had stolen the neighbor's cable. The television flickered on to a newscast and Nny sat up straight in rapt attention, "In other news, today local insane child – Dib died. According to his sister Gaz he 'fell into a deep pit which then closed up on itself, burying him in the ground for all eternity'. Apparently earlier that day Dib had assaulted another student and put him in the hospital with many serious injuries. The injured child, Torque Smacky, had this to say:
"'He was being stupid. It was just a game. He didn't need to go and hurt me like that…I'm glad he died.'" Nny's hands clenched the sofa's arms, tearing into the soft fabric as two of the voices shrieked insults and anger, "'I hope he spends the rest of eternity being stoned for being such a stupid fag'
"There you have it folks – the child with the largest head in the world has officially kicked the bucket! And we here in his hometown rejoice for he is no lo—" The TV was turned off.
"Stupid…" Nny muttered as he got up and went into his 'bedroom' to grab his paints, he'd just gotten some inspiration. He sat down with the two Pillsbury Doughboys and began to paint, angry lines and swirls and splotches and arrows going every which-way. One with a sign that said 'FUCK' on it, the other with a 'Z?' sign. "Question sleep…." Nny muttered, "Question sleep because no one knows what people do in their sleep. Question sleep because demons come back to haunt you in your sleep. Question sleep because you get abducted and experimented on while you sleep" he remarked bitterly, remembering the time in his childhood when he was 'abducted' and genetically altered to become a 'super baby' BY HIS OWN FATHER. He stared at the finished Doughboys, "There…now you can get the hell out of my head."
One of them sighed, his smooth voice seeming to come from nowhere, his mouth twitching into a frown, the 'Z?' sign beneath it flexing to fit 'Now, now Dib…that's no way to treat the people that helped you get here…'
The other said nothing for a moment, its 'FUCK!' sign vibrant blue, 'You ARE going to buy that gun, right?'
"Look," Nny sighed, "I just….if it'll shut you up I will." He faced the raspy voice, "If it'll shut you up D-boy, I WILL buy a gun."
'Good. Nice to know you've got your priorities intact' D-boy said smugly.
'Wait! How the fuck are you going to buy a gun if you have no money?' the other one asked.
"I'll…I'll…" Nny fumbled slightly, "I guess I'll kill someone…and take THEIR money Mr. Eff…"
'Good boy, Dib.' Mr. Eff said soothingly. 'Now, hows about that murder?'
"Not now…" the boy groaned, suddenly very VERY tired, having just pitched a fit…more-or-less, "Gotta' sleep…" and he dozed off, head against the wall, hand in a paint puddle, brush still there.
'We're gonna have to do something about him…' D-boy remarked softly.
'Well killing him will sure as HELL won't do anything for any of us, the energy'll just go elsewhere.' Mr. Eff retorted, 'We can't let that happen, nor can we let him continue to hold it in – it'll kill him…He's got to find SOME way of concentrating it and pulling it out of himself like he did with us! What do you thing D-boy?'
There was no answer. The room simply fell silent as death.
-x-
He ran to Zim, arms outstretched, waiting to have the alien in his arms, to hold him and love him. 'Zim!'
'Dib-filth!'
Then there was a sharp sound, like a gunshot and Zim fell over, black oozing from his chest. 'Zim!' Dib sprinted over to where the alien had fallen, scrambling to pick him up, 'Zim…'
'GOT 'EM!' a voice cried. Dib looked up to see Torque, older and stronger, 'Can't believe I actually HIT him at that distance.' He was holding a smoking shotgun.
'You…' Dib was speechless, 'You stupid FUCK!!!!' he ran at the man holding the gun, 'HE WAS MINE!!! MINE!!!! AND YOU HAD NO RIGHT TO FUCKING SHOOT HIM LIKE THAT!'
Torque turned to face the angry teen, 'What makes him yours?' he smirked, 'You're just some fucking fag, you have no rights.'
Dib leapt at him, a knife suddenly in his hand. He began to hack away at his tormentor. 'SHUT UP!'
His face shifted to that of one of his classmates, jeering, 'Freak!' Still Dib hacked into the body underneath him, his body splattering with blood.
Now it was the Professor, 'Don't mind my son, he's just INSANE!!!' Dib still cut away.
Gaz, 'I will make you wish you had rabid weasels in your stomach instead of me for a sister…'
More cuts, more blood. The changes were quicker, the blows sharper, Keef, Ms. Bitters, Johnny C., Simmons,…soon it was to fast to see yet Dib continued to hack away at them until his entire body was covered in blood.
Then he was swallowed into a deep darkness while his red, white-eyed form floated in a sea of black. He cried tears of silver and they formed a paintbrush. 'Paint' a voice said, 'The pain will all go away if you paint'
'But I have no paint!' Dib cried, his white teeth glinting, 'And I have no canvas!'
'Your canvas is here.' Before him was the north wall in one of the rooms in his basement, 'And your paints are surrounding you…' Dib looked at his arms and his body then dipped his brush in the blood he was drenched in and began to paint.
He painted a terrible creature, one of tentacles and teeth, of needles and claws, of his own soul and the worlds and when he was done, he was still covered in blood but the blackness of the room around him was gone and before him lay the monster he painted.
'It is real, it exists.' The voice said as Dib backed away from the monster, terrified, 'It's made up of the darkest parts of everyone in the world and can be sated in one way and one way only…do you know what it is?' He was trapped, in a corner with no way out! 'The beast can be trapped by paint. You made it of paint and it came to life when it dried. It can be stopped so long as the paint's still wet.' Dib covered his paintbrush in the blood that covered him again and covered the entire wall in blood-red paint. When he opened his eyes the monster was gone but so was Zim.
'Zim…' he sobbed, 'Zim…'
'In the end he, too is only paint for the monster…' the voice echoed in his head and the monster broke free, one corner of the paint had dried and it peeled its way through the wall towards Dib.
-x-
Nny shot awake, sweating so hard that his scythe-shaped hair no longer sat like it should, "Shit…" he sighed and put his head in his hands, shaking from head to toe. "Shit…" Then he looked up at the wall in front of him, the wall of the room that he had painted the Doughboys in and gasped.
The entire wall was covered with a picture of the monster from his dream, the black paint still wet, but drying quickly. He looked at his hands curiously, they were covered in black and red paint. HE had done this, in his sleep, HE had drawn this, this THING. "Question sleep…" he said quietly, "Because no one knows what people do in their sleep…" HE did this in his sleep, and now he had to keep it there. "SHIT!" This was the only thing tethering him here now, he had to keep this THING placated, keep it in the wall. He had to paint the wall and, by the looks of it, paint just wasn't gonna cut it.
'So looks like you're staying here longer than you expected, huh?' Mr. Eff stated plainly.
"Shut up…" Nny sullenly answered. But he was right, even though all humans were nothing more than pieces of shit; he had to keep this thing at bay for Zim.
-x-
Years passed and Nny did that, he kept the monster from breaking loose by killing people and draining them of their blood and painting the wall with it. In fact, he had gotten so good at it, that he had rooms and rooms of his basement filled with hundreds and hundreds of filthy humans being tortured in one way or another. But he slipped up, he tried to kill himself and succeeded, shooting himself in the head and he went to sleep for good as the monster broke loose and destroyed the universe from within. But through it all, the universe continued to exist and Nny woke up from his nap, monster-free and considerably hair-free as well.
He picked up the pieces of what could have been called a life, trying to eradicate all his emotions only to find them aggravated again when someone like Jimmy (Call me 'Mmy') came up to him and insisted that he was his biggest fan. Nny, of course hating himself, would have none of that. Mmy was soon strewn across the floor in pieces, metal hooks embedded in his chest cavity.
Next came Devi…he finally got her, 'the one that got away' and he had immortalized her forever. Then he had attacked her filthy lying slut of a roommate, Tonja for being a Devi-stealing bitch. That had been fun to hear her screams as she was rendered head to toe with a battle axe. Now he had finally tied up all the loose ends of this town save one.
Nny packed up the few meager belongings he had and stood up, "Right then," his long, knee-high, black boots clicking as they hit the floor, "Off to go and see the world, eh? Time to go home…"
'But you aren't done here yet!' Reverend Meat hissed, his teeth bared angrily, 'You have yet to give in—!'
"Shut up." Nny commanded him, "I control me. I forgot that with Psychodoughboy and Mr. Fuck but I sure as HELL won't forget it with you. I'm going home." Then he turned to go out the room, Reverend Meat's protesting cries decrechendoing as he slowly headed south towards his destination. He stopped by Squee's place first, slipping in just as his father had come in to give him an 'I hate you and wish you'd never been born' lecture, knocking the poor man out cold. "Goodbye Squeegee…" he ruffled the poor boy's hair and smiled softly, always loving him because he reminded him of a younger Dib, "I'm going away for a bit, kay? I have some questions that need answering and I promised someone I would visit." He traced the kid's view to his unconscious douche of a father, "Don't worry he'll wake in a bit…and don't let the demon babies in your room while I'm gone, kay?" Then he headed away, leaving behind one very traumatized little boy.
-x-
On the way, he stopped at a convenience store and walked up to the man at the counter, "Excuse me, do you have any Cherry Brainfreezy? I can't seem to find it…"
The clerk rolled his eyes angrily, "We don't carry Brainfreezys sir. We do carry SuckMunkees though…"
Nny forked over the cash for a 32 oz. SuckMunkee and mumbled as he left the store, "Well, guess it's gonna have to do…" He drank the slush as he walked south, the sun rising to meet him in the west, the storm clouds fleeing in the east.
-x-
Nny reached a small overlook in front of the city he once called 'home', and squatted for a bit, finishing off his SuckMunkee. Staring at the horizon he spotted the glowing green house and squealed with excitement, his heart fluttering as he rushed to meet Zim after all this time. He ran through the streets of the city carefully, not touching anyone or talking to them. He slipped through the streets watching for people he knew, planning a small surprise for each and every one of them.
Everyone's life seemed so much better once he had left. There was Torque who was a pro football player and had married Zita who was nothing more than a trophy wife. Nny would make them pay because they laughed the loudest. Melvin was a model and had more looks than Nny remembered so some of them must've been fake. Sarah was a nun and a devout one at that. Morla was a cop. The Letter 'M' was a track star and made millions of dollars a day. Olivia was a pop-star returning home from her world-tour. Poonchy: Drinker of Hate was a chemist. Aki was into art. Everyone but four people had better lives now that he had left.
One was Keef who had committed suicide shortly after Dib 'dying' because no one else was his friend and therefore life wasn't worth it anymore. Ms. Bitters was the same old bag she was when he left, seemingly untouched by the hands of time. Gretchen, the only one who actually tried to help, who tried to get them to stop, she wrote books and she was so sad that he had left…she had loved him. And, of course, Zim's life was no better.
When he reached Zim's house, he slipped past the gnomes yet again and knocked at the door. The door creaked open and Zim peeked his disguised head out the crack between it and the doorframe, "May I help you?"
"Hello Zim." Dib (once called 'Johnny C.' aka: 'Nny') said his name with contempt that Zim would recognize him even though his eyes held longing that he should notice.
"Dib?!" Zim's eyes widened as he opened the door to greet his friend-once-nemesis. "You-you're back!"
He smiled and nodded, "Yes…"
"You—I—" Zim was lost for words so Dib helped. He stooped down and grabbed the small alien up and their lips met again while both their tongues explored this once-visited territory.
Then they began to go further and further in the throes of passionate love, never gone this far yet still knowing what to do. Their bodies became one in the moment, the act of love taking up all their mental and physical processes, Zim shrieking in pain and Dib just gritting his teeth. The pain was worth it in the end though, the pain they experienced soon turned to rapture which faded into bliss and then, as they slowly stopped, that too became a memory, but one so cherished that they would remember it until their dying days.
When they finished they lay there for a second, sweat covering both of them from the very act of love, holding hands and looking into each other's eyes lovingly. "I never stopped thinking about you…" Dib whispered, not wishing to ruin the moment.
"Nor I you…" Zim replied, smiling happily. Then the room and the two of them were once again enveloped in soft silence.
"I see you kept your promise." Dib finally said, sitting up and putting on his clothes.
"Yeah, well…" Zim suddenly looked very sad, "I…my whole life is a lie!" he said explosively, "My Tallest lied to me and exiled me here and I'm not an Invader anymore and now I-I can't ever go back!!!" Zim hiccupped slightly, the effort of not crying taking its toll on him. "My people have rejected me! They hate me!!!"
Dib smiled and patted the Irken's back gently, "Well I guess that makes two of us, huh?" he whispered, "MY people hate me too…" he smiled evilly, "But you know what I learned?"
"Wh-what?"
"I learned that, if someone doesn't like you – you can do two things: make them like you…or," his eyes glinted mischievously and he began to grin, "Make them fear you…"
Zim caught on and smiled as well, "Ah…" then he wiped his eyes and stood up, taking his lover's hands.
-x-
First was Torque and Zita. Zim only stood and watched as Dib ninjaed into their top-floor window and stifled a scream from Zita who had been preparing some pre-sex-talk drinks. "Sshhh…" he hissed as he pressed a kitchen knife against her neck, "Don't scream…I'm an old friend, you remember me?' he turned her to face him, her terror so great it gave her lock-jaw.
"D-Dib?!" she stuttered, her face paling in recognition, "Y-you…but she…and—"
"She lied." His answer was matter-of-fact, "I told her to lie. My life here was so FUCKING awful that I HAD to go, I had to get out of this place and I did." He ran the blade against her neck and smiled as she tensed up, the arteries in her neck visible. "Funny thing though, leaving made me feel sane for a bit and then - I went mad…Do you remember hearing about that mass murder that occurred in the town just north of here? All the people drained of their blood and the bodies looked like they'd been tortured? That was me…" he pulled close and hissed the last sentence in her ear watching her shiver as his breath whistled past her skin.
"S-so why are you here?..."
"I just wanted to say hit to all my old friends…tell them how much I missed them…make them pay for what they did" he grinned, the crescent moon of ivory splitting his face. "You and your hubby are the first my dear Zita"
She began to quake in fear, "N-no…what did I ever do to you?!"
"Hmmm…let me think" the knife only lifted because he was scratching his chin, "There was the name calling, the whole 'sending me to the crazy house for boys' thing, the rock throwing…Did you ever hear this: 'Let he who is free of sin be the first to cast a stone'? You cast a stone at me and I KNOW you aren't free of sin…I know what you did after Skool with the Hi-Skool boys…and I find you disgusting."
There were footsteps, "Honey? Are you okay?"
"Tell him it's fine…" Dib hissed.
"E-everything's fine Torque…be right out!" she was wide-eyed.
"Good…I'm going to go in with you and I want you to act completely normal…you won't be the first to go if you cooperate."
She nodded and walked into the living room carrying a bottle of champagne and two champagne flutes. "H-hey honey, guess who dropped in today?"
Torque looked a bit bored as he polished one of his trophies, "Who?"
"I did." Dib slipped in and, in one swift movement, hurled a trophy through Torque's stomach, pinning him to the wall.
Zita shrieked and dropped the platter as Torque coughed up blood, "What the FUCK?!!! Who are you?!!!"
Dib laughed and stepped past the traumatized woman, "Oh, you don't remember?" Amusement tinted his voice, "Perhaps this'll remind you…" he took the knife and cut away Torque's shirt and carved something in his chest. Then he turned to Zita, "Read it."
"I-I…" she couldn't speak, the whole world was pressing in on her, "I…"
"READ IT!!!" he roared.
"'D-dib is NOT a fag'…" she finished.
Torque's eyes widened with recognition, "SHIT! DIB?!" Upon closer inspection you could see that his nose was crooked where Dib had broken it, "You're still alive?!!!"
"Actually I just came back from the dead…Heaven's a shit-hole and Hell's boring as all get out…Really I pity Mr. Devil…he's really gonna hate dealing with you…"
Blood coursed down his chest and he coughed up some more, "W-what the FUCK man?!!!"
"I'm here to get revenge on every single one of you little SHITS that ever hurt me or ignored my pain or called me names. YOU and every other FUCKER in that fucking Skool are gonna die today. You get to be first." He straightened up and cracked his bony fingers, "Now…let's begin. Torque, you're a tool. You're a fucking tool and a fag. I know because one of the days I was spying on Zim I looked through the security tapes of the Skool and found a video of you ass-raping Meef. That's low man…" he smiled as horror spread across the jock's face, "And, I know that you've been using steroids to get where you are today and your balls have shrunk to the size of peanuts and that, on top of the fact you're gay, is why you haven't ever had sex with Zita."
Torque thrashed a bit, "NO!!! SHUT UP!!!!"
"All those times you called ME a fag, you were just wanting to get in my pants…and to be honest, you've got a tiny cock." Dib reached over and stripped the man of his pants and briefs. "So, here you have it Zita, the little-nut fag. A CLOSET fag…" he grinned as Torque screamed insults at him, lazily moving the knife's point to Zita's face. "As for you…since I've decided so, it's time for a marriage intervention. So Torque's a steroid-munching fag. You are just as bad m'dear. You have had sex with every man you came across. You have contracted every STD known to man and when you ran out of men to fuck you did the dogs." A red tinge spread across her face and she began to cry, "You have AIDS and you've had ten abortions. Any day now you could die of even a cold. You hate your life and you wish that you could go back to being the little WHORE you were but you know that being the wife of a football star you can't get caught screwing around and so you've been bearing it. You've held it in for so long and your little nymphomania is starting to eat away at you. You masturbate to anything. And now I'm giving you the chance to fix this." He petted her hair lovingly, the knife still in hand and her tears making her mascara run. "I want you to sit here while I prime the subject. I want you to laugh as the fag gets his ass kicked. I want you to laugh like you did all those times ago. Laugh at the fag. And when I'm done, I want you to take your nymphomaniac desires on his corpse…" He leaned close, not feeling that she got it, "I want you to do his corpse. Screw your man while he's dead, Zita…you'll live longer…" He walked over to Torque and slowly cut open his chest and stuck his hands elbow-deep in the incision, Torques last words ringing in the echo of his wife's screams. He pulled out a kidney, still attached. "Well he can live with one of these…" he turned to Zita, hearing nothing. "What are you waiting for? LAUGH! Look, I'm playing a game of Operation with the fag. Don't you want to see how he works?! Isn't this hysterical?"
"Oh…oh God…." She retched at the smell and the sight of so much blood.
"God?" Dib pulled out a lung and tossed it to the side, it still hanging on to its twin, "God doesn't give a damn. God's a fat-ass who sits in a chair all day, sleeping." He pulled out his large intestine, "Here's what I was looking for…now let's see how full of shit you really are Torque…" he went to slit it open when he felt something hit the back of his head. He turned to face Zita who was holding a dented platter, "What, pray tell, are you doing?"
"Y-You sick BASTARD!!!!!" she screamed, bile still in her throat and threatening to come up again, "What the FUCK did we do to deserve to be torture like this?!!!"
He frowned, "Now why would you ask that? This is MY game and damn it—I TOLD YOU TO LAUGH!!!!" he launched at her with the knife and stabbed her through the lower torso, pinning her to the floor. "Wait here" he commanded.
He walked into the kitchen and she slowly pulled the knife out of her waist, wincing as the blood increased. "Sh-shit…"
He walked back in holding a potato peeler, "Now…time for you to laugh honey…or at least smile…."
She launched at him with the knife, "NO!!!! FUCK IT, I WON'T DIE HERE!!!!"
He simply twisted out of the way of the clumsy attack and grabbed her wrist, "Look, I hate to break it to you," he tightened his grip and she squealed, dropping the knife, "But I'm stronger than you this time." He held up the peeler and grinned, "Now, SMILE…"
When he had finished with the two of them he stood back and admired his work. "Nice, yes?" he asked Zim. Zim surveyed the scene and nodded, licking some blood off of Dib's neck area sexually. He had completely dismembered Torque and labeled each and every piece as he strew them across the floor, spelling out 'I'm a stupid faggot'. Zita sat in the armchair, her finger pointed out straight in rigor mortis. Her face had been peeled off and she grinned, her bones stained an orange color from all the blood.
"Too bad no one will ever see this…" Dib pouted then smiled, emotions changing quick as a flash, "Now…on to the next house?" Zim nodded and they hopped out the window and trekked to their next stop.
-x-
Dib sat of the fire escape of Olivia's second-story apartment and watched her as she hummed her hit single to herself. He grinned eerily and slipped the window open, fitting his malnourished and tall form through the frame and clapped quietly, "Very nice…I never would've pegged you to be the one to get famous, I always thought that Zita would be the star but you DO have a relatively nice voice."
"Who-?" Olivia's voice squeaked and Dib's smile faltered a bit.
"'Who are you?'" he scoffed, knowing Zim was outside clenching his fist every time he was insulted or forgotten, all those years of torture on Dib's behalf deepening his hatred for the human children in their class. "I'm the reason the world ended and no one remembered. I am the butt of your jokes even NOW miss I-did-my-producer-so-he-autotunes-my-voice-so-it-sounds-like-i-can-actually-sing-things-other-than-the-sound-of-the-jungle." Her face reddened and she reached for the phone. "Try all you want, the phone line's been cut." Dib turned his gaze away from Olivia and faced her little apartment critically, "Y'know, I'm not an interior decorator but - this place looks like a piece of shit compared to the place you should have with your fame…and the security sucks too…" he waved cheekily at one of the cameras in the corners, "So…how've you been since I 'died', hmm? Fine?! Did your life improve? Well now it's high time I collected that reward!" Olivia backed away as the infuriated sociopath SHE helped create picked up a pair of tweezers and walked towards her. "My life was a living hell because I was fed your misery therefore it only stands to reason that I reap some rewards now…"
"Wh-what are you—?" she squeaked, her back hitting the corner of the dressing-room cabinet.
"The price?..." his grin spread across his face, obscuring his chin in pearly whites. "Just yer' voice!!!!" There was a shriek and a splatter of blood. Dib dusted his hands off and scowled at his boyfriend, wiping a small streak of crimson life-blood off his cheek. "Well that was no fun either…she couldn't even give me a good scream in the end. Next…" he wrapped his arms around his back of his head and sighed. "Her vocal cords are probably only worth eighty-thousand bucks on E-bid anyways…" And they moved on.
-x-
Dib smiled as Sarah reached for the rosary at her neck and began whispering prayers. "Dear Lord, please protect me from this demon from Hell by pulling me into Your warm embrace. Shield me from this foul image of Satan and make me Your own. Keep my mind from unholy thoughts and hold me close in Your arms. The power of Christ compels you demon - BEGONE!" she thrust the cross in his direction.
"Well that was touching…" Dib smirked and brushed the crucifix away, his grin widening as her face fell. "Hate to break it to ya' but your God's a fraud. He's not some mystical, omnipotent Lord who watches over you constantly. He's some fat-ass in a chair that sleeps all the time." He watched as Sara's face contorted, her emotions caught between confusion, fear, and anger at him insulting her God.
"NO! God is up There watching me! His son, Jesus died so I could go to Heaven to be with Him for all Eternity…."
Dib stepped back for a second, looking at all the crosses adorning her room in the convent, "Well…if you still believe that…" his fingers brushed a polished wooden cross and he grinned at her, "How long do you think it'll take me to break you of that belief, eh?"
She blinked in confusion, "What?..."
"I said, 'How long do you think it'll take me to break you of that belief?'" he was holding it now, looking at the curves and contours of the ancient tree. "How long do you think that belief would last if I kept you in a living Hell for a day or two? Do you still think you would say God's name with the reverence you give it now?" Before she even opened her mouth, Sarah found her right hand pinned by a wooden spike to the wall, her arm outstretched in a wing-like fashion. He came close and leered as she grunted in pain, "Do you think that, if Jesus existed, he could take the pain of being CRUCIFIED and still say that he forgave the Romans?! I mean, I was a man of Science and therefore God was a load of bullshit at first but as I got more free time on my hands I read the bible; I tried religion and after meeting God and Mr. Devil, I don't think you'd like the truth!" He paused, the second spike made from the remains of the wooden cross he had been fawning over inches away from her left hand. "Tell, you what…if you can make it ONE HOUR with me crucifying you and doing everything they did to Jesus to you without cursing God, I'll tell you what Heaven's like." He smiled and she nodded slightly, a prayer passing her lips like a soft breeze.
"A bet with a demon…" Zim sniggered from the corner of the room, his teeth glinting in the soft glow of the moon.
"He was tempted, He was tried and He resisted…if I can do the same then I truly love Him…" Sara held her head up high and Dib let out a loud laugh.
"FINE!!!! Enjoy!!!!" He twisted in the second spike and then the third, affixing her feet to each other to the wall. Then he pulled some barbed-wire out of his pocket and twisted it into a crown which he fit on her head, pushing viciously on the spikes until the blood coursed down her face. She bit her lip and continued to quote scripture, even as he began to stone her. "How does it feel, huh? Having the whole world continue to turn even though you're dying?!" His voice was manic, high-pitched and hateful. "Hurts, huh? I had that AND I had to bear the weight of YOUR hatred and all of YOUR negative emotions to top it off!!!"
"I…know…it…was…wrong Dib and…" Sarah gasped.
"Well NOW won't fix anything! Telling me you're sorry NOW won't bring back the thousands of people that DIED Sarah…FORGIVING me won't bring back Torque and Zita and Olivia…" Her eyes widened as he said this and Dib's sneer turned into a smirk. "Do you KNOW what I did to them? Do you know how they died?" He pulled in close to her ears and hissed, the shivers running up her spine making him smile. "Olivia died screaming, her 'pretty' voice used for one phrase, one selfish little phrase…she didn't have the conviction YOU do, she simply said, 'Oh God don't kill me…'." Her breath hissed in as he pressed in one of the spikes in deeper. "Torque called me a fag and a freak and all sorts of nasty little names and yet HIS last words were, 'God FUCKING dammit!!!'." He smiled as Sara began to visibly quake from the pain, "And Zita…Zita just squealed like a little pig as I peeled her face off…." Sara turned green and she began to sob, her conviction weakening. "So will you still hold on or do you want to know the night sounds of my home back when it was full of dying people? They're quite horrific…"
"Sh-shut up…thou shalt not tempt the Lord…"
"Ah, but you AREN'T the lord…you're just some nun who accepts chastity because she's so homely no one else wants her BUT God…" Tears ran down her face, mingling with the blood. Dib ran his fingers in the mixture and wrote on the wall. "And y'know…the only good thing that came of you people driving me insane is I have a friend, I have a lover…" He walked over to the undisguised Zim and wrapped his arms around his waist. They kissed for a moment as the devout stared in horror at the alien they denied in existence making out with the monster THEY helped create. "You like?..." The question was directed at Zim who was looking at the few sentences above the crucified woman.
"'Queen of the hypocrites'…appropriate…" Zim smiled, a daintily-clawed finger tapping his chin rhythmically.
"H-hypocrite?..."
"You are here now, insisting that you're SORRY, and that it was WRONG but you don't seem to understand that it doesn't matter if YOU KNOW it WAS wrong, or that you are NOW sorry - you SHOULD HAVE BEEN sorry, you SHOULDN'T HAVE done what you did!" he was yelling again, spit flying from his mouth at an alarming pace. "The past is long gone and nothing short of a time machine will fix what's wrong with me, that or maybe a gun but I have someone to live for and a reason to keep this heart still beating inside my chest, to even keep me from falling over now - dead as a doornail. Those two reasons for life are Zim, who was ALWAYS there for me (even if it looked like I hated him and he me) and my revenge! My revenge on you people is the only other thing keeping me running! And if I let you and your SENTIMENTS get in my way then where would I be, huh? I'd be DEAD." She was no longer coherent while she screamed because the pain was so intense. "So why don't you just die! I'm going to kill you and make you experience heaven for yourself…you DESERVE that much…" and with a disgusted look on his face he stabbed her through the heart and walked away, angrier than when he started.
-x-
Melvin squealed as Dib slowly peeled his skin back with a scalpel, "Now I think it's high time you looked like you did BEFORE all this cosmetic shit, eh?" The model made only incoherent noises and Dibs grinned and continued. He commented to Zim offhandedly, "Y'know, the great thing about not being a licensed surgeon is that I can't get sued for malpractice if I do THIS" he stabbed the man in the cheek, hitting bone and dislodging a few teeth. "Now, Melvin…I want you to relax and think of all the times you've made fun of me…then I want you to relive those experiences while I slice your face to ribbons…" And he continued, white bones smirking around the red of the gore that was splattering his Armani suit.
-x-
Dib shrieked in glee as he chased after the sweating black man. "Run, run, run as fast as you can - you can't catch me; I'm the ginger-bread man!!!!"
"What the fuck man?!!!" The Letter 'M' gasped as he tried to keep ahead of Dib, barely ahead. "What's your damage you freak?!!!"
"Did you know that black men have an extra tendon in their legs that actually allow them to run faster and for longer periods of time than other men?" Dib asked nonchalantly as he sprinted behind the crazed track star. "Funnily enough I'm keeping up with you pretty easily."
The escaping man shot Dib a crazed look. "What is that supposed to mean?!"
"I could be where you are now without an effort. I could be the one making thousands of dollars just running like I am now. The irony - this'll all be gone soon so the point of me trying to make that money is nothing." And in one swift movement, one set of loping steps later, Dib smacked into the Letter 'M' to the ground and pulled out a knife.
"Woah! Don't try and shank me man!" he began to freak, crying almost. "Whatever money you need is yours!"
"Look, all I'm going to do is even the playing field mister 'anatomically advanced black man'." Then Dib reached down and sliced something on his legs and then stepped back, brushing his pants off and helping him get back up (or attempting to). When the Letter 'M' failed to stagger off at an acceptable speed Dib just sighed and flicked the knife through his head, killing him instantly.
-x-
Dib looked down the barrel of Morla's Magnum and sighed dramatically. "Normally I don't like guns and I only want to use them on myself but…" He looked over to Zim and grinned hungrily, the cop's blood on his face making him look like a vampire. "I'll make an exception for you." Then he beat the gun's handle into her head, cracking in her skull and spraying brain-juice all over the place.
-x-
Poonchy squealed and squirmed as the acid ate away at his skin. "What the hell did I ever do to you?!!!" he howled, "I'm innocent!!!!"
Dib giggled insanely, "Innocent? Hardly." He smiled and continued to pour the chemical on the chemists face. "'You're crazy Dib'…'You're insane'…" he mocked bitterly. "You are the farthest from innocent. You aren't directly responsible for most of the shit I was given but you are FAR from innocent." He continued to spill corrosive liquid on the scientist while he cackled at the mans high-pitched squeals. Soon there was nothing left but a pile of sludge with a bit of blood mixed in and a homicidal maniac giggling quietly as he made out with his boyfriend, the acid on his hands pleasing to the both of them.
-x-
He smiled as he painted for Aki. "I'm an artist too, you know." He commented as he smeared red pigment across the pavement, "But the only people who appreciated my art were the hobos." The last statement was fused with hatred. "Don't think it's very fair that a fuck like you get cash for your art…do you?" The only sound in response was the wind. Dib laughed heartily, "But then again, being dead doesn't help your career much."
He got up and left the torn-apart body of Aki on the pavement, her legacy simply a corpse littered on the ground, the monster painted with her blood devouring it.
-x-
It was finally time, time to exact his most perfect revenge. Dib stalked into Gaz's room and stared at the images that were pinned up across the wall. "Invader Zim: The Game" the sheets read. There were pictures of him and Zim and GIR all over the room and it made Dib angry to the point of puking. He lounged against the wall when his sister finally walked in and started at the sight of the gaunt man in her father's home. "What the hell?!! DIB?!!!"
"Surprise…" Dib said darkly and picked up a pencil and toyed with it, "Didn't expect to see me again, did you?"
"When I heard about the dead homicidal maniac found in the town just north of here I figured you kicked the can." She threw her stuff to the ground and sat in a chair. "Why the hell are you in my room?"
"Just had some things I wanted to do." He stood up and focused on the pencil menacingly, "I quit art today Gaz. I stopped painting."
"You painted? Never figured to be the artsy sort" she wasn't interested.
"But I have one more painting I want to finish before I leave for good…" He hated her, oh how he hated her.
Inside his head, even with them gone he could still hear Mr. Fuck's voice clamoring 'Kill her; KILL HER!!!!'
"Really? What sort of shitty work of art would you be working on if you were coming back here?" Gaz quirked an eyebrow and smirked, "Zim stopped trying you know - he gave in. Became 'normal'. Became reclusive." Her tone was sharp as the daggers she was shooting him under her violet bangs. She didn't notice the pencil in his hand or the drawing he was clawing out on her desk. "I think he liked you...or you him."
"One last little piece of art for this world before it goes to hell in a hand-basket…" Each word was forced between his teeth with shuddering gasps. "And you're my muse Gaz, my Madonna."
"Madonna? Fuck that. I'm no muse, and I sure as hell ain't Madonna material. I'm me and you're you. Nothing more."
"And you're the CENTERPIECE for my art today Gaz." With trembling fingers he guided her gaze to the desk where he had carved a drawing in the rigid plastic an image that made her pale in shock. "This is the only time I'll ever thank you for what you've done to me and you better soak it up because soon you'll be on display for the whole fucking town to gawk at again, just like when I gave you the sense of the Shadowhog." It was Gaz, cut up to match the anatomy drawing of Michelangelo - the one where the man was outstretched and his limbs replicated by only a ten degree difference. Her hair was pulled back like a Greek goddess and her face was serene as she lay there in a pool of her own blood. All of this was conveyed in one penciled carving and it made her want to puke.
"Dib? Dib - don't' do it Dib…" she stammered as she realized the significance of the pencil in his hand and the X-Acto knife on the desk, so lovingly laid out.
"I really hope you know that this is coming from the deepest depth of my heart Gaz. I hate you" he was advancing ever closer, "And I was your only brother and you turned me into a videogame!" The pencil lashed out and stabbed through her left arm, puncturing the shoulder.
"D-Dib…Dib don't…"
I hate you and I'm going to make this as painful as possible. I will make every waking moment of your life until you pass out from shock or blood loss. I want you to relive this moment while you rot in your own self-inflicted hell." He pulled the pencil out and stabbed her hand and then her other arm and hand, using her blood to mark up where she would be cut up. He lovingly muttered to her as he worked - that old crazed look he used to get when he was Nny back in his eyes. "And you'll remember me and you'll curse my name and I will make you suffer for the rest of eternity. You and the world, and the world…"
Then the cutting began, first at her shoulders so to avoid major arteries or veins and slitting it down to her hands, peeling them in two. She screamed throughout the entire process, blood coursing down her cheeks as she soon ran out of water to cry. Then she began to plead, her words incoherent and mixed with small gurgles as her body tried to evacuate her stomach repeatedly, the dry heaves wracking her long frame. He worked quickly and quietly, finishing her arms and stopping to pose her, do her hair like the carving.
"My muse…" he whispered to her and she could only cry tears of blood and cough up stomach acid, eyes glowing with fear and loathing. "My muse is finally here…my life's work…my greatest work…finished at last."
He cut her legs up as slowly as he could, carefully keeping her blood pooled in the center of the diagram, keeping her awake and in pain. He finally sighed as she stopped twitching, as her pale limbs no longer convulsed, her chest no longer heaved in futile efforts to vomit, all her blood on the floor. He posed her before rigor mortis began to curl its nasty claws around his muse, tilting her head in a serene fashion, fixing her hair again. Then he stepped back, his work complete.
Zim wrapped his arms around Dib's neck and blew air across his nape. "Feel better yet?"
"Almost…almost…" the voices in his head still screaming, Dib walked downstairs and entered the basement - entered his father's lab.
"Hello. Are you with the agency?" The Professor didn't even look up, his aged voice calling from above the din of his work.
"No. Actually, I'm here about your son." Dib stated - no humor in his voice, no smile on his face. He was the epitome of the grim reaper. "It seems as if your son was insane."
"Well I knew that, everyone did."
"Please, sir…" Dib held up his hand and sighed impatiently, "But the insanity he had is hereditary, it RUNS IN THE FAMILY."
"Family?" The professor stopped his work for a moment. "He had no family."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"He was my clone. I tampered a bit with the DNA but he was my clone and nothing more. He had as much 'family' as a cadaver does to the medical students cutting it up. He was merely an experiment. Nothing more."
Dib began to shake in anger at this man that he had idolized for most of his life, "Then the disease is yours then."
"What?"
"The insanity he had, it was hereditary and GENETIC. The certain string of DNA that activated it was very rare and only shows up every century or so. If he had it, you do to." Dib wasn't lying in that case. His insanity WAS genetic and it was his dad's but his dad's was dormant. His dad's tampering with his DNA activated the recessive insanity, the recessive sensitivity to the supernatural and he was the only one to see them. But this wasn't about him…it was about his dad.
"Th-then…"
"You're no better than him, you're WORSE than him. You masquerade as a 'normal' 'sane' human while in reality you were just as bat-shit crazy as your son-as your clone." The Professor's face fell slightly as he began to mutter to himself.
"But…I…"
"But you have a second chance to redeem yourself. Here I am and all you have to do is tell me that you loved me and mean it." Dib smiled as he stepped forward, his trench-coat brushing his ankles. "Say you loved me…that you were wrong dad and all will be forgiven."
"You—!" he gasped, stepping back as who he was talking to finally dawned on him, "B-but you DIED!"
"Gaz tell you that? Well I DID die…just not at that moment. I ran away because I didn't feel loved."
"You're not real…not real!" Membrane continued, his horror-stricken face making Dib laugh.
"Grab my hand; I'm as real as you. Unless you're living in some sick fantasy of your own, I'm alive and well. I just want acceptance dad…tell me you loved me…" Dib stepped forward and stretched out his arms in a quest for a hug, for the paternal embrace that he was denied all his life.
"No-no…not real…all in my head…' He began to back away, stumbling over discarded items in his fear. "Not here, not now…you're not—" Then he fell over a chair. He fell over a chair and hit his head on something on the floor.
As he watched his father, his DNA donor, bleed to death he picked up the object that had cracked his cranium and smiled. In his hands was a small-scale model of the telescope he had built when he was four. Inscribed on the side in faded lettering and an unsteady hand were the words: "To Dad. I'll always love you. -Dib".
"Funny that this should be the thing that did you in…funny that this was what got through his thick skull in the end. 'I'll always love you'…" Dib scoffed as he sauntered back up the stairs to bring about the Armageddon. "A promise I couldn't keep when you never loved me at all…" He met Zim's eyes and smiled wryly, "Let's go."
"To the end?" Zim wrapped his hand in Dib's hair as the human twined the alien's antennae in his fingers, earning small pleasured noises from the two of them.
"To the end" and their lips met, sealing the fate of the world.
-x-
They only lasted two hours, TWO HOURS and then this town also caved in. Dib sighed and gave Zim a dirty look, "Well, looks like we're done here…" the entire world was in ruins, no one left living but the two of them, "We started with 'home' and ended here, at number 777." He smiled, "Ironic that the world end here, eh?"
Zim frowned, his antennae flat against his head in confusion, "Why?"
"Nothing…" Dib said. He paused and grinned ear-to-ear, thinking of his suicidal bout earlier that had let the monster loose and freed him, "Hey, God? If you're out there, you can suck my cock you fat-ass mother fucker!" Dib gave 'heaven' the Finger and then looked down, his own 'antennae' falling in his face, "And Mr. Devil, thanks for the cool do'. You're gonna be getting a whole lot of people there soon. Hope you made a bigger residential area of you're gonna have a whole ton of bums on your hands!" Then he turned to Zim who had this 'WTF' look on, "Shall we go give your leaders a little taste of what they deemed to be 'worthless'?"
Zim grinned nastily, "Of course." He was ready for revenge, so long as Dib was always there, was always beside him. They hopped in the upgraded Voot and flew off, leaving behind one shithole and going towards another.
Zim grinned to himself, "Look out world…here we come…"
FIN
(A/N: Revamped and longer than ever!!!! Now maxed at 13,154 words (before you add in the author's note), 777 is the nastiest, most citrusy, most gory, most violent piece I've ever written! I just want to say that it feels better getting that off my chest, all that hate and anger. This one's dedicated to Jhonen Vasquez. Without you I'd be lost because there's no way I could've put this much hate in anything of my own. This is probably the only time you will ever see me write the word fuck or demean Christianity like I did. My next project for the Jhonen Vasquez fandom is a bunch of stories 'written' by Squee and I need a Beta. Also I'd like a co-author for a story I think would be interesting. And now, for something completely different: R&R or so help me, I will write the happiest, sweetest Jhonen Vasquez story ever. You will puke rainbows and see unicorns for months on end after the taste of saccharine finally leaves your mouth and the sunshine stops blinding you. JK…I don't think I could do that…but I challenge you out there to do that. Put out a sickeningly sweet Jhonen fic and I'll grade them. Winner gets a request fic~. Till then, the 'Sandria sayeth farewell…)