Chapter 36: Return of the Moose
Johnny directed his newly acquired truck into his garage with relative ease. Turning off the internal combustion engine, he jumped out of the door and ran around to the back and began pulling the restrained gangsters from the bed of the truck. It took him a few minutes to drag the surviving gangsters into his labyrinthine torture cellar, but once he had them there he quickly began to set them in restraints.
He set about wandering through the hundred room basement, attempting to decide which of the numerous torture devices he would use, when he came across the wall room. He had not painted the wall in a week or two so it was already beginning to dry out, and move. Johnny chuckled as he walked up to the wall and reached out. The vibration emanating from the blood soaked plaster spread throughout his body filling him with dread.
"I bet you want to be fed don't you?" the maniac whispered to the festering lock. "Well forget about it! I am a slave to know one! Especially not some freakish pulsating monster trapped by nothing but plaster!" the killer began screaming at the wall, which seemed to vibrate more intensely with each word. "OH YOU'RE ANGRY ARE YOU! WELL GUESS WHAT! I DON'T GIVE A SINGLE FUCK ABOUT WHAT YOU WANT!" at the end of this one sided shouting match Johnny pulled out a dagger and hurled it at the wall.
Upon impact the wicked blade stuck nicely in the plaster but the slowly intensifying vibrations began shaking it loose. When it finally did come free it to a good portion of the drywall around it with it. From that hole poured forth a few tentacles and a disturbing potato shaped cranium with a viscous maw and four eyes. "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" the maniac screamed as he backed away from the nastiness leaking out from the damage.
In a panic the killer ran through the nearby rooms looking for victims. However the few he did find had died a few weeks ago after he stopped coming down, they were too rotted to provide any blood. Thinking quickly he ran up numerous flights of stairs found the two gangsters and dragged them back down to the wall room. Nearly decapitating each one he slit their necks and let the blood spray all over the wall, making sure to aim for the breach. After a few moments of being drenched in blood, the few mismatched appendages reaching forth withered and retreated back into the plaster from whence they came.
The panicked killer took a few minutes to catch his breath while he considered what to do. "The solutions obvious!" Meat declared, "The only way took keep the thing back is to begin painting the wall again!" he preached from an empty barrel of blood. "I don't fucking want to! I don't want to be a slave to anything! Especially not a wall drenched in the blood of assholes!"
"As I've stated time and time again, you're always going to be a slave to something!" The ceramic reverend continued as Nny lunged at him. "Fuck you! You ceramic demon! I…" Nny was cut short as the areas of the wall not covered by arterial spray began to pulsate once again. "Dear fucking lawn-gnome-y lord! Why me!" the maniac shouted as he ran up the stairs grabbing his favorite blades before entering the normal portion of his house and leaping into his stolen vehicle then speeding off towards the city.
As he sped through the abandoned streets he quickly began to go over the list of places he normally found victims in. Restaurants were open but empty; with the streets as desolate as a ghost town there was no way he'd be finding someone there. As he drove through down town he noticed a few parking lots that were still filled with cars pulling in to one of the more open ones he parked and began walking towards the entrance to what he suspected was a club.
The first door opened to reveal a stereotypical oversized bouncer happily passed out behind the obligatory velvet rope. As he quickly slipping through the entrance way he discovered that the fancy-ness out front was nothing but a ruse for the typical smoke filled, gritty, rave/dance club. Wandering around the periphery of the main dance floor he found the bar. Commandeering an empty stool he stood up and attempted to start his announcement.
"Attention doped up dancey people!" the music seemed to intensify to mask his words. Cupping his hands around his mouth he tried again, "Attention!" again receiving no reaction he hopped off the stool and began to make his way towards the DJ. When he was about halfway there he felt himself getting dragged into the crowd whirling around he found an oddly dressed, clearly high dancer attempting to drag him towards a knot of people doing that "Rub up uncomfortably close to each other" dance.
Wrenching himself from her grip he dashed through the remaining crowd, rudely pushing people out of his way. As soon as he got to the stage he pulled out a blade and began hacking into the DJ's sound station. A majority of the dancers stopped and looked towards the reason the party had stopped, and thus began Johnny's rant.
"Excellent! Now that I have almost every ones undivided attention I would like to take this opportunity to thank you" he shrugged the knife filled backpack off and continued. "I am thanking you not for anything you've done; most of you just made my night miserable; but to thank you for the donation you are about to make" and he pulled another blade from the pack, the more sober party goers began backing up towards the door. "And now if you'll just remain calm this will go by very smoothly" and with that he leaped into the remaining crowd and began shouting.
"YOU BLEW SMOKE IN MY FACE!"—lungs pulled out
"YOU PELTED ME WITH FOOD SCRAPS!"—Arms hacked off, right one shoved down throat.
"YOU CALLED ME A FAGGOT FOR NOT DANCING!" legs hacked off.
"YOU'RE TRYING TO BRING BACK BELLBOTTOMS!" bludgeoned with previous guy's left leg.
"PULL UP YOUR FUCKING PANTS!"—lit on fire.
"YOU ATTEMPTED TO FORCE ME TO ENDURE PHYSICAL CONTACT!"—skinned.
And so on and so forth
Running past the blubbering mass of mental trauma that was now plugging the exit he dashed out into the parking lot and jumped into his truck. Pulling it back up to the entrance he walked back in selected the worst people from the pile, knocked them out, then stuffed them in the trucks bed. Grabbing the belt of grenade's from the passenger seat he walked back in for the last time pulled each of the pins out tossed the belt in and the ran back to his truck speeding off a few moments before an explosion rocked the building.