(Author Note: Yay! Another chapter! Fear not boys and girls, for this chapter unlike the one preceeding it, it full off Nny-goodness! I don't think I got him as in character as I would've liked to, but oh well. There's always time to improve apon that. Again, Johnny, Reverend Meat, Squee, and Squee's mom doth not belongeth to me … they belong to Jhonen Vasquez. However, everyone else belongs to me. Okay? Read and Review. Pweese? I'll give you a taco!)
One Year Later
He didn't think he'd be saying it, but it felt good to be back home. Yes, as much as Johnny C. loathed that piece of shit he resided in; he couldn't help but admit that he'd missed it while he was gone, purging himself of all emotion and feeling. The journey had, he hoped, been a success and he couldn't wait to get back to something "normal" again. He hated not living in the same place, deterring from his usual routine. Not to mention that a Brainfreezy machine was a dreadfully long walk from the place he'd taken residence for the past year.
"Are we theeeere, yet?" Johnny cringed, as the little fat man sitting in the passenger side asked him the same question he'd been asking for three hours straight.
"I already told you, almost!" Nny replied rather testily, he didn't enjoy being asked the same thing continuously for a long period of time. In fact, he was starting to wonder why he'd brought the little Bub's Burger Boy with him at all. The little meaty thing had been nothing but a pain in his side since the night they left, but Nny couldn't relish the thought of traveling completely alone … and Meat was rather persistent in his tagging along. Why, Nny never knew, but he gave in an allowed the little statue to tag along.
As he rounded the corner that led to his street, Johnny couldn't help but think of his old home. How lovely it would be to fill his basement with loathsome, screaming people again. The devices would probably need a bit of tending to, after a full year of no use and not being taken care of. If there was anything he hated more than the assholes he killed, it was when his devices and his tools were showing any signs of unkemptness. He'd probably have to devote most of his time to getting things back in order, so the assholes would have at least one or two extra days to live.
Johnny had just started thinking of new ways to annihilate them all when he noticed his driveway wasn't empty. Parked halfway in the grass was an old black car. His teeth clenched at the thought of someone, in his absence, taking the opportunity to use his driveway as their own personal parking space. Or worse, some homeless slob using his vacant house as a haven of drugs and booze and who knew what else! Fury filled his veins, as the whit hot liquid pumped along with his blood. If someone was living there, sleeping under his roof, they were about to get a very rude awakening.
He pulled his small vehicle effortlessly next to the unfamiliar one, narrowly missing Squee's mom's flowers. He wouldn't have minded if he had run over them. Maybe that would have taught her to pay more attention to her son than to worthless things springing out of the ground.
"Who do you s'pose that is?" Reverend Meat asked, as Nny reached under the seat and extracted a rather long, pointy knife.
"Whoever it is … they'll soon wish they were never born." Nny vowed, opening the door. He left Meat in the car, knowing that his guard wasn't all that good with a little burger boy tucked under his arm. When Meat started to whine about being left alone in the car, Nny threatened to give him to the Bull Terrier down the street as a chew toy. The burger boy fell silent, finding the quite car much better than the jaws of a rabid dog.
As cat-like as possible, Johnny crept up the steps leading to the front door of number 777. He was a bit shocked to find that the front door was unlocked. Either the new resident was very careless or very stupid, neither of which appeased Nny at the moment. The room looked the exact same as he'd left it. The couch was still sitting in the same place, with the rabbit-eared TV set a few feet in front of it. An eerily similar picture of what it looked like before he left. He then remembered the knife was in his hand, and why it was there. After a brief curse to himself for not being prepared, he raised the knife so that it was parallel with his ear. He continued to creep through the kitchen (where again, everything was untouched) and to a spare room where the door to the basement was. A soft, amber-like light spilt itself in front of the wide open door, which could only mean that the perpetrator was down in the basement.
With his knife still held high, he slowly descended the staircase. His mind was greeted with the memories of people's dying screams, and pleads for mercy and forgiveness. All that noise, ringing in his head. Oh, how he wanted to just shut it off like some kind of facet. Shut off the noise that grew louder and louder with each step he took.
It was then, he realized, that the screams weren't figments of his overactive imagination. No, there were real screams coming from the levels below the basement! But how? There wasn't a single person alive when he left, and surely if he'd forgotten someone, they would have starved to death.
When he stepped onto the cold floor of the basement, he couldn't help but notice all the blood splashed about. It was fresh blood, from freshly opened wounds. His face contorted into a look of puzzlement, as he tiptoed across the floor; being extra careful not to step in any of it.
As he continued farther and father downward, the screams and wails of mercy were getting louder and louder, which could only mean he was getting closer to them.
"What … the …" He rasped, at the sight when he finally reached the corner of one level.
Hundreds of people, were bound to the walls and ceiling. The ones of the ceiling were hanging upside down, just as he had placed them there a year ago.
"No." He thought to himself, clenching his eyes shut, allowing his knife to slip through his fingers so he could cover his ears. "This is some sort of nightmare. Brought on by wretched sleep."
But when his eyes opened, they were still there. Most of the noise had stopped, and some seemed to think that someone had come to rescue them.
"Look! Someone's here!" A woman rejoiced.
"Oh, please help us down!" Another, younger woman pleaded. "Some crazy person hung us all here. Did she get you, too? Did you escape?"
"She? What are you talking abou-" Nny started to ask, but was cut short when some unseen force knocked him down to the floor. Shit! How could he have let his weapon slip to the ground! He saw it's glittering blade out of the corner of his eye, and tried to make a grab for it.
He winced in pain, as a thick-soled boot pinned his hand painfully to the ground. Using his new found anger as fuel, he reached back behind him and grabbed his attackers other leg, yanking it hard. His attacker falling flat on their back, giving him enough time to make a grab for his knife, was the reward if his effort. As soon as his weapon was in it's proper place, he spun around, ready to greet the attackers intestine with the blade. But they had other plans, and he was knocked once again, but this time into the adjacent wall. Whoever it was, they had a lot of fight in them. But Nny wasn't about to give up. After all, it wasn't over until somebody's blood was splattered against the floor. (AN: Yay for blood and gore reference!)
When his attacker was close to him, he thrust his knife forward, rather blindly … but apparently made some type of contact as he heard the attacker grunt in pain. He saw as blood ebbed from a wound on the attackers arm, and took the brief moment to take control of the situation again. Grabbing them by the front of the shirt, he spun around and pinned them against the wall.
'What … that the fuck are you doing in my house!" He spat, holding the knife firmly against the attackers neck.
Seconds later, the attackers head whipped up, and he found a very similar knife against his neck. A pair of dark violet eyes looked into his, as purple flecks of hair framed her face. "Your house! I've been living here for a year! Don't think that just because you've got a dick means you can come barging in here and take it away from me!"
Nny was admittedly shocked. "You're a woman!"
"Bloody right I am! Lemme guess, you thought you could come in here and just take my wittle house away …" She put on a mock-feeble act. "just because I'm just a sad sowwy wittle girl. Well I got news for you, finder's keepers! I found this house after it was abandoned, so therefore it's mine! And I won't mind fighting you to the death for it!"
This was far too confusing. "No, your wrong! This is my house! I'm the one who abandoned it in the first place!"
"You?" The woman's eyes narrowed. "You're … Johnny C.?"
Nny nodded his head, or at least he attempted to as her knife was still dangerously close to a main artery.
"Yes … yes! Phillip has told me so much about you!"
"… Who?"
"Oh, he's my little stuffed friend … but that's not important. I have so much I want to ask you! So much you need to show me!"
Nny's eye's narrowed. "You're not another 'fan' type entity, are you? I should warn you, the last person who strove to be like me met an untimely fate …"
The girl laughed. "Oh no … I strive to be no one but myself, mate. The name is Tristan. I had a last name, but I hate it so I no longer use it. So you may call me Tristan. Just Tristan. Any other cute nicknames and I will be forced to disembowel you."
"Um … pleased to meet you Tristan. You seem to already know my name, but you may call my Nny if you wish. Um, since we're almost like best friends and all, would you mind removing your weapon from my artery … and I promise I'll remove mine from yours."
"Hmmm … on the count of three." Tristan proposed. "One … two … three."
At three, they both stepped away from each other. Nny took this moment to survey her. Black muscle shirt or a black fishnet shirt, black jeans, thick black boots … she was rather thin and probably a few inches shorter than he. He was merely evaluating how much effort it would take to bring her back down, if this was some kind of trick to bring his guard down.
"Come." She linked her arm with his, pulling him along the floor. "You have so much to tell me …"