A/N

So this is where Devi comes into play! Yay! Keep in mind, I have not read the I Feel Sick comics, so I just based it off of what I know. Please review and enjoy!

Chapter three: Fright

Devi rubbed her eyes with her free hand as she started to paint a dark hallway on her canvas. Tenna was somewhere on vacation, so she was left alone in her apartment, and used the silence to focus on her paintings. She grabbed for another paintbrush on her table and started to paint, when she stopped. The paintbrush was fairly new. But the end of it was covered in a red substance, dried and turned dark. She decided that she must've spilled some paint on it from her previous works of art and continued. A few minutes passed, and her eyes started to grow heavy. She twitched awake, glancing at the clock on the wall. It read nine p.m. She dropped the brush on the table and walked over to her couch and sat down.

Devi couldn't sleep at night because of the panic attacks she'd been having lately. Usually, she gets one once in a few weeks. At first, she shook them off as paranoia, but then they slowly started to get worse. The last one she had, she actually thought HE was there to finally kill her. The terror she felt...

She decided to call one of her very few friends to take her out of her thoughts. She picked up the phone and started pushing numbers, and pressed call. The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. The voicemail clicked on.

"Hello, you've reached Matthew Sherman. If you have anything that's worth saying, say it." The soft beep of the voicemail came after.

She put the phone into the holder and laid down on the couch, not bothering to leave a message. She sighed, feeling sleep rub against her. Her arm absentmindedly slipped under the throw pillow as she felt herself nod off. She groaned, trying to stay awake.

Then she got up and stumbled to the kitchen, turning on the coffee brewer, inhaling the comforting smell of grounded beans, feeling a bit revived. She opened a cabinet and pulled out a mug. She settled in in the coffee machine, leaning her forearms on the cold linoleum counter.

Aside from the buzzing of the brewer, it was quiet in her small apartment. It was peaceful...

Yet lonely...

Devi sighed. She thought of trying to reach Matthew again, but came to the conclusion that he was probably busy.

She went to her room and slipped on her only pj's; a pair of boxers and a tank top. Then she left and walked down the small hall. Devi entered the kitchen and saw the brewer flashed a red light, indicating that the coffee was done. She pushed a button and steaming liquid poured out, falling into the mug with a satisfying splash.

She took the cup and cradled it with her cold hands, walking over to the couch and siting down slowly. Her hands lifted the cup to her mouth, the hot coffee burning her tongue slightly. She then placed it on the little table next to her, sighing in boredom. As Devi placed her feet on the edge of the cushion, she grabbed the throw pillow, hugging it against her bare legs. Her mind suddenly felt clouded by loneliness, wishing that someone was sitting next to her.

Dropping the pillow, she reached for the phone, hoping Matthew would pick up and talk to her. The feeling disappeared when she received the voicemail a second time. She smirked, dropping it in the holder once more.

'Maybe he's dead,' She thought amusingly... Then she paused, a look of concern passing her face... 'Maybe I'm right... Maybe he is dead... And maybe Johnny killed him out of petty jealousy.' She felt tears fill her eyes... 'And it would be all my fault...' She sniffled, wiping away the small tears. She never wanted this to happen; to go on a date with a 'nice' guy that ends up trying to kill her, and now staying inside her apartment 24/7 because of it.

She then felt a pang of guilt, remembering how she hurt Johnny like that after he tried to kill her. She shook her head, chuckling. 'Why would I feel guilty? He deserved it. He's insane!' she thought. Then she blinked, realizing another possibility.

'...Or maybe he's just scared to show affection...' She thought deeply about his situation, not hearing the thunder of clouds.

She then heard a pitter-patter outside, pulling her back to reality. Then it increased until it was a steady fall. Devi knew it was rain. She smiled, wanting to go outside and enjoy it, even though she was terrified she would get kidnapped and killed...

"Aw... Fuck it." She muttered. She slipped on her boots and walked over to the door. Then she stopped. Her hand hovered over the doorknob, feeling herself hesitate. She then squeezed her eyes shut and yanked the door open.

Her eyes instantly widened as cold air blew in. She walked out, flinching as the rain fell on her. When she threw up her head, she saw the soft glow of the moon behind the dark cloud barrier around the sky, and the raindrops glisten in the air, falling as if they were the tears of mourning angels. She breathed in deeply, smelling the moist dirt. She saw puddles rippling from drops of rain, and the wall of fog covering the faraway buildings. She loved fog; it was the closest you can get to touching a cloud. She kept on staring at the fog, smiling.

Then it faded, when she saw an outline of a man appear from the gray. She froze. Still staring at the figure. He was tall, his long coat flapping in the wind. She trembled, gripping the doorknob behind her. She slowly opened the door and slid in, cracking it open slightly. As he got closer, she realized that it was just a cold, old, homeless man looking for shelter. She sighed a breath of relief, going outside once more. She stared at the sky for a while, then went back inside, taking off her boots. She grabbed a blanket from her couch and wrapped herself in it, feeling cold, and drunk her coffee, knowing that deep down, she wished it wasn't a homeless man, but a homicidal maniac asking her to come back to him.

Meanwhile!...

Johnny slumped over the grocery cart as he waited in the long queue in front of him. He groaned as he heard the cashier argue with a customer that was angry about the store not having booze. He looked down into the cart, seeing what he got. A pack of Fiz-Wiz, lunch meat, bread, some veggies, some fruit, instant coffee, senor salsa chips (you'll pee fire!), corn dogs, frooty pops, pringles, bagels, blah, blah, and more blah.

'Damn, why did my fridge have to run out of food today?' He thought irritably. Luckily, he got money from his victims last night so he could buy some more. He sighed, feeling bored.

'You forgot the milk...' Meat whispered in his mind.

Nnys' eyes flashed open. "FUCK!" He yelled out loud.

Everyone stared at him, then just turned back, returning to their zombie-like states. Nny left his cart and went to get a carton not too far away. When he came back, his cart was pushed out of the line.

Nnys' nostrils flared and he stomped to the cart, thrusting the milk inside the basket. He glared at the woman that was behind him, now occupying his spot in the line.

She had brown hair with purple highlights that looked messily applied. She had huge sunglasses on, skanky clothes, wrinkly skin, long painted fingernails with a cigarette in between two, smelled of alcohol, and looked hung over.

She didn't notice the death glare Nny was giving her.

"HEY!" He blurted, feeling anger fester inside of him.

She slowly turned her head. "What?" She said in a scratchy voice.

"Did you push my cart out of the line?" He asked in a dangerous tone.

"Yeah, so what?"

Nnys' glare intensified. "WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST PUSH MY CART OUT OF THE WAY LIKE MY GROCERIES DON'T MATTER?!" He yelled.

She inhaled out of the filter of her cigarette and blew the smoke into his face.

"What makes you think you can just leave your cart in the line without someone watching it?" She countered.

He coughed and sputtered. He pointed a finger. "Look, old lady!-"

"I'm not old, I'm only 64." She interrupted.

He looked at her, feeling annoyed. "Hm, okay, grandma. Slutty girl clothes and drugs aren't gonna make you younger. If anything, it makes you look OLDER! YOU PIECE OF PRETENTIOUS SHIT! I'VE BEEN TO HELL AND BACK, AND THIS IS WHAT I GET?! I JUST SIMPLY BUY GROCERIES AND STILL I GET NOTICED BY SOME SACK OF WASTE THAT DELIBERATELY TRY TO PISS ME OFF! WELL! NOW YOU PISSED ME OFF! AND TRUST ME!" He paused. "You do not want to see what's gonna happen next.." He said in a lowered voice, grinning and pulling out a knife.

But before it could appear in the woman's vision, so as to freak her out, he stopped. He slipped it back in his backpack. Instead, he reached for the gun that was only for suicidal purposes in a holster on his belt.

'Fuck it.' He thought. He raised the gun high above his head. The loud crack of a bullet leaving its' clip rang throughout the whole store, making everyone scatter and scream. He smiled, pushing the cart in one hand and the other with the gun, which was now lowered below his head. He walked over to the cashier, who was bending down in fear under the counter.

He tapped the counter with the gun, and a pair of terrified eyes popped out from under.

Nny motioned to the groceries with his gun.

"I need to pay for my groceries." He said with a smile.

Finally, the cashier slowly got up and started scanning the items in his cart and putting them in plastic bags.

He screamed when Nny pointed the gun towards him.

He leaned on the counter with his one free hand, sighing.

"I want paper. Not plastic." he whispered.

The cashier shook his head up ans down, his shaky hands taking the items out and putting them in the paper bags.

"Th-that's 30.22." He said in a small voice.

Nny held up a finger telling him to wait, and thrusted his hand into his pocket, fishing out for something, his other hand still pointing the gun at the poor cashier.

He finally pulled out a piece of paper. "I have a coupon." He said, offering it to the man. The man took it and scanned it.

"25.22." He said in a trembling voice. Nny grabbed his wallet and fished out a twenty and a ten. He slid it on the counter with his hand pressed down on it.

He grinned. "Keep the change." He whispered, taking the cart out of the store, putting the food in his trunk, starting the car, and driving away towards home.

A/N

Fun fact! The old whore lady is an actual person and was my math teacher last year! I know. My school is horrible. Please review and keep on eatin' cake! Mmm... cake...