Blade to Blade
Ch. 1: Midnight Stroll
A/N: Heh heh, I think that this story is really REALLLLYYY stupid. Should I give up writing and go back to oil painting? TELL ME!! I own Laura.
Johnny C. whistled to himself as he walked along dark streets, getting blinded by the occasional passing car headlights or a street lamp. He sighed as he looked at the sliver of a moon above him.
It's really beautiful out here, he thought. He suddenly heard the sound of someone coughing. He turned around and saw a middle aged man, who smiled slightly at him.
"I gotta have a smoke, you got any cigs, kid?" he asked.
Johnny clenched his teeth, biting his tongue so hard that he tasted blood.
"No," said Johnny, fingering a knife in his pocket.
"I don't smoke,"
The guy smiled at him.
"Okay," he said.
Johnny watched the man turn around and start walking away. He growled as the man turned around to face him again.
"Hmmm, it never occurred to me that fags don't smoke," he said, smiling coldly.
Johnny turned his fingers into a fist, the nails digging so deeply into the flesh that it bled. He pulled his knife out of his pocket and charged at the insulting piece-of-shit excuse for a human. Nny raised the knife over his head and plunged it down into the dude's throat. He stabbed him over and over again, rage and hurt overtaking him. Johnny regained his senses once he looked at his reflection in a car window. He saw himself, covered in blood and gore; the knife in his hand was broken. The blade lay in a puddle of blood.
"Dammit!" he snarled, he threw the knife handle to the ground. He buried his face in his hands, slumping down next to the dead smoker. Johnny pressed his back against the brick wall that supported him. It began to rain. Nny looked up at the sky, hot tears mingling with blood and ice cold rain.
"HOW CAN YOU LET ME DO THIS?!" he screamed.
"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!!"
He heard a woman's voice speak to him.
" Like God would really give a shit about you, Johnny," it said.
Johnny looked up and saw a woman, about his age, looking at him with hate in her eyes.
"And, seeing as you are stealing my job, I don't either," she continued.
Johnny stood up and wiped the tears from his eyes.
" How do you know my name?" he demanded.
The woman grinned at him. She pointed to a jagged scar under her right eye.
"Do you remember how I got this?" she asked, twirling a golden dagger between her fingers.
Johnny looked confused.
"No, I don't know how you got that, I don't even know you!" he replied.
The woman suddenly slammed Johnny against the wall; she pointed the knife at his throat.
"You tried to kill me, remember, I worked in that diner a block away from here. You ordered a coffee from me, I brought regular, and you wanted de- caf. You got all pissed and chased me down with the same knife that is now in pieces on the ground there. I'm blind in my right eye thanks to you!" she snarled.
"I- I'm sorry. I've got some serious mental problems...I never meant to harm anyone. I really didn't," Johnny whispered. He swallowed, whimpering at the slight pain from the knife being held to his throat.
"That's right, Johnny, whimper like the scared, worthless dog you are!" the woman crowed.
Johnny suddenly remembered this girl now; he went to school with her. He pushed her back with his foot, scrambling for the broken knife blade. He picked it up and held before him like he would a sword.
"Don't you * dare * call me a dog, Laura Haden-Brooke,"
The woman smiled.
"It's all coming back to you, eh?"
A/N: Okay, that's done; I'm listening to Ozzy Osbourne as I write.
Ch. 1: Midnight Stroll
A/N: Heh heh, I think that this story is really REALLLLYYY stupid. Should I give up writing and go back to oil painting? TELL ME!! I own Laura.
Johnny C. whistled to himself as he walked along dark streets, getting blinded by the occasional passing car headlights or a street lamp. He sighed as he looked at the sliver of a moon above him.
It's really beautiful out here, he thought. He suddenly heard the sound of someone coughing. He turned around and saw a middle aged man, who smiled slightly at him.
"I gotta have a smoke, you got any cigs, kid?" he asked.
Johnny clenched his teeth, biting his tongue so hard that he tasted blood.
"No," said Johnny, fingering a knife in his pocket.
"I don't smoke,"
The guy smiled at him.
"Okay," he said.
Johnny watched the man turn around and start walking away. He growled as the man turned around to face him again.
"Hmmm, it never occurred to me that fags don't smoke," he said, smiling coldly.
Johnny turned his fingers into a fist, the nails digging so deeply into the flesh that it bled. He pulled his knife out of his pocket and charged at the insulting piece-of-shit excuse for a human. Nny raised the knife over his head and plunged it down into the dude's throat. He stabbed him over and over again, rage and hurt overtaking him. Johnny regained his senses once he looked at his reflection in a car window. He saw himself, covered in blood and gore; the knife in his hand was broken. The blade lay in a puddle of blood.
"Dammit!" he snarled, he threw the knife handle to the ground. He buried his face in his hands, slumping down next to the dead smoker. Johnny pressed his back against the brick wall that supported him. It began to rain. Nny looked up at the sky, hot tears mingling with blood and ice cold rain.
"HOW CAN YOU LET ME DO THIS?!" he screamed.
"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!!"
He heard a woman's voice speak to him.
" Like God would really give a shit about you, Johnny," it said.
Johnny looked up and saw a woman, about his age, looking at him with hate in her eyes.
"And, seeing as you are stealing my job, I don't either," she continued.
Johnny stood up and wiped the tears from his eyes.
" How do you know my name?" he demanded.
The woman grinned at him. She pointed to a jagged scar under her right eye.
"Do you remember how I got this?" she asked, twirling a golden dagger between her fingers.
Johnny looked confused.
"No, I don't know how you got that, I don't even know you!" he replied.
The woman suddenly slammed Johnny against the wall; she pointed the knife at his throat.
"You tried to kill me, remember, I worked in that diner a block away from here. You ordered a coffee from me, I brought regular, and you wanted de- caf. You got all pissed and chased me down with the same knife that is now in pieces on the ground there. I'm blind in my right eye thanks to you!" she snarled.
"I- I'm sorry. I've got some serious mental problems...I never meant to harm anyone. I really didn't," Johnny whispered. He swallowed, whimpering at the slight pain from the knife being held to his throat.
"That's right, Johnny, whimper like the scared, worthless dog you are!" the woman crowed.
Johnny suddenly remembered this girl now; he went to school with her. He pushed her back with his foot, scrambling for the broken knife blade. He picked it up and held before him like he would a sword.
"Don't you * dare * call me a dog, Laura Haden-Brooke,"
The woman smiled.
"It's all coming back to you, eh?"
A/N: Okay, that's done; I'm listening to Ozzy Osbourne as I write.