Torment
*Nny_Fangurl
Notes: This story... Well, Johnny's feelings for Devi mostly. I was in a bad mood when I wrote this. But I died out of it, and decided to do one of these. It's not long or anything. I'd write a long one.. One of these days. These two are my favorite couple. Plus, it's gore! Yes.. a killing in this.
Disclaimer: Johnny & Devi are copyrighted to Jhonen Vasquez.
She hung their, blood trailing down the side of her head. The sticky substance had reached her shirt, and tarnished her black short-sleeved garments. Her blue eyes seemed dim, lifeless like a rag doll hanging on by a thread. Her short lavender hair had been spiked. T'was now a big mess. A mess of dirt, and blood. She wasn't looking at the man in front of her. She just hung there; her wrists clasped by metal bracelets that wouldn't let her go to begin with. The floor was a bit off her reach, and heels of black boots didn't reach the floorboard.
Johnny sneered at her. His hands folded behind his back. Infamous "Z?" logo was outlined against the white of his clothing. His expression ran cold, as he stared at the knife clattered on the floor. Fresh crimson liquid dripping down the handle bar, as well as all across the blade itself. He was enraged, as his boot kicked the knife across the room; it hit the wall nearby with a loud thud of the blade. Carelessly, he threw up his hands.
"Why the fuck do you have to remind me of her!"
He screamed at the young girl, annoyed now. His thoughts couldn't keep straight whatsoever. The girl looked puzzled. Now how she was beginning to regret she had laughed at his outfit, and took off running when he tried to grab her. However, she chose to remain silent, biting her lip. Johnny stopped talking, and was staring at her. He shuddered, and a hand pressed to his forehead as he had a flashback of a date. A date with a wonder. A date that he killed. 'Don't let the beautiful moon set.' Mr. Eff had said. 'Capture it! Freeze it in time with not the memory of losing it to another day!'
Mr. Eff was dead wrong. Very wrong. Why did he have to go with his advice? He didn't want the happiness to end. He rubbed at his head, still wincing at the memory. He heard her voice, then slowly drift into the speaking of his girl victim. "Why are you doing this to me? I said I was sorry!" She screeched at him. Johnny's rage boiled, he felt the blood rush to his face. His pupils seemed to be too twisted in anger to care about her life. "I'll teach you." He grumbled. "I'll teach you, for reminding me of her. For laughing at me!"
He reached down, and unleashed a steel blade from his boot. He looped it across his fingers, and tightly gripped it. He ran his finger across the handle of it. Fine, hardwood craving polished to perfection. Openly rotted by all the blood that had been smeared over the handle. The girl's face twisted in horror at the sight. "No!" She felt tears stream down her face, bitter tears. That her crystalline pupils would not be able to hold in. She choked, as Johnny leaped forward.
The knife traveled down her body, until it made impact with her stomach. Tissues and nerves ripped apart, as a hole was formed. She let out a loud scream, mixed it with choking sobs. He pulled the knife out, as blood flowed downward, a puddle forming on the floor. Her legs trembled with fear, and pain. Johnny just grinned at her. She hiccupped, and was halted by her throwing up of blood; it freely flowed out of her mouth, down her chin and dripped on the floor. Making the puddle increase in size.
"What? You're not dead yet?" Johnny asked, backing up to watch her bleed. Her bottom lip trembled, to get a hold of herself. She couldn't speak. Her throat hurt. It arched and throbbed with pain. Johnny twirled the blade from his left, to his right hand, and closed his eyes halfway. "You're too silent. I hate to see what you're thinking." Smirking manically, his arm thrusted out and the blade made contact with flesh of the chest. It pierced inward, across her ribcage into her preciously protected organs.
She screamed. She screamed the loudest she could ever. As the knife traveled deeper inside of her, until she felt something pierce. It was probably her heart. Since she felt he had collapsed one of her lungs. Her screaming faintly died. Her head slumped downward, as her eyes closed within a few seconds. Her body stiff and limp. The man waited a few seconds. Before pulling the knife out of her, dropping it on the floor avoiding the puddle on the floor.
He reached up, and unclasped the lock that the bracelets stalked to the wall held her up. He moved back, as her body fell forward, and hit the floor with an uneven gurgle and a thud. He turned around, and looked down at his clothing. Hm, not much. Just blood clung to the stitching of his shirt, as well as coated both his hands. He turned around, to walk out of the room.
He had decided to clean up, enjoying the silence from the other room. He cringed, as he entered his bathroom, and suddenly not hearing the girl screaming. But, he heard Devi screaming. His face went a bit blank. "I just don't want to be reminded of her. I don't want to know that pain again. That I had when I lost her." He looked down at his hands again, dirty with blood. He watched it begin to dry, blood dripping from the course of his knuckles onto the bathroom sink.
"I didn't..." He was thinking about her again.
---
A/N: Whatcha think? Please feel free to tell me.
Thanks for reading!
Well it's noon...time to write some more.
*Nny_Fangurl
Notes: This story... Well, Johnny's feelings for Devi mostly. I was in a bad mood when I wrote this. But I died out of it, and decided to do one of these. It's not long or anything. I'd write a long one.. One of these days. These two are my favorite couple. Plus, it's gore! Yes.. a killing in this.
Disclaimer: Johnny & Devi are copyrighted to Jhonen Vasquez.
She hung their, blood trailing down the side of her head. The sticky substance had reached her shirt, and tarnished her black short-sleeved garments. Her blue eyes seemed dim, lifeless like a rag doll hanging on by a thread. Her short lavender hair had been spiked. T'was now a big mess. A mess of dirt, and blood. She wasn't looking at the man in front of her. She just hung there; her wrists clasped by metal bracelets that wouldn't let her go to begin with. The floor was a bit off her reach, and heels of black boots didn't reach the floorboard.
Johnny sneered at her. His hands folded behind his back. Infamous "Z?" logo was outlined against the white of his clothing. His expression ran cold, as he stared at the knife clattered on the floor. Fresh crimson liquid dripping down the handle bar, as well as all across the blade itself. He was enraged, as his boot kicked the knife across the room; it hit the wall nearby with a loud thud of the blade. Carelessly, he threw up his hands.
"Why the fuck do you have to remind me of her!"
He screamed at the young girl, annoyed now. His thoughts couldn't keep straight whatsoever. The girl looked puzzled. Now how she was beginning to regret she had laughed at his outfit, and took off running when he tried to grab her. However, she chose to remain silent, biting her lip. Johnny stopped talking, and was staring at her. He shuddered, and a hand pressed to his forehead as he had a flashback of a date. A date with a wonder. A date that he killed. 'Don't let the beautiful moon set.' Mr. Eff had said. 'Capture it! Freeze it in time with not the memory of losing it to another day!'
Mr. Eff was dead wrong. Very wrong. Why did he have to go with his advice? He didn't want the happiness to end. He rubbed at his head, still wincing at the memory. He heard her voice, then slowly drift into the speaking of his girl victim. "Why are you doing this to me? I said I was sorry!" She screeched at him. Johnny's rage boiled, he felt the blood rush to his face. His pupils seemed to be too twisted in anger to care about her life. "I'll teach you." He grumbled. "I'll teach you, for reminding me of her. For laughing at me!"
He reached down, and unleashed a steel blade from his boot. He looped it across his fingers, and tightly gripped it. He ran his finger across the handle of it. Fine, hardwood craving polished to perfection. Openly rotted by all the blood that had been smeared over the handle. The girl's face twisted in horror at the sight. "No!" She felt tears stream down her face, bitter tears. That her crystalline pupils would not be able to hold in. She choked, as Johnny leaped forward.
The knife traveled down her body, until it made impact with her stomach. Tissues and nerves ripped apart, as a hole was formed. She let out a loud scream, mixed it with choking sobs. He pulled the knife out, as blood flowed downward, a puddle forming on the floor. Her legs trembled with fear, and pain. Johnny just grinned at her. She hiccupped, and was halted by her throwing up of blood; it freely flowed out of her mouth, down her chin and dripped on the floor. Making the puddle increase in size.
"What? You're not dead yet?" Johnny asked, backing up to watch her bleed. Her bottom lip trembled, to get a hold of herself. She couldn't speak. Her throat hurt. It arched and throbbed with pain. Johnny twirled the blade from his left, to his right hand, and closed his eyes halfway. "You're too silent. I hate to see what you're thinking." Smirking manically, his arm thrusted out and the blade made contact with flesh of the chest. It pierced inward, across her ribcage into her preciously protected organs.
She screamed. She screamed the loudest she could ever. As the knife traveled deeper inside of her, until she felt something pierce. It was probably her heart. Since she felt he had collapsed one of her lungs. Her screaming faintly died. Her head slumped downward, as her eyes closed within a few seconds. Her body stiff and limp. The man waited a few seconds. Before pulling the knife out of her, dropping it on the floor avoiding the puddle on the floor.
He reached up, and unclasped the lock that the bracelets stalked to the wall held her up. He moved back, as her body fell forward, and hit the floor with an uneven gurgle and a thud. He turned around, and looked down at his clothing. Hm, not much. Just blood clung to the stitching of his shirt, as well as coated both his hands. He turned around, to walk out of the room.
He had decided to clean up, enjoying the silence from the other room. He cringed, as he entered his bathroom, and suddenly not hearing the girl screaming. But, he heard Devi screaming. His face went a bit blank. "I just don't want to be reminded of her. I don't want to know that pain again. That I had when I lost her." He looked down at his hands again, dirty with blood. He watched it begin to dry, blood dripping from the course of his knuckles onto the bathroom sink.
"I didn't..." He was thinking about her again.
---
A/N: Whatcha think? Please feel free to tell me.
Thanks for reading!
Well it's noon...time to write some more.