A/N: ooookay, friends! Err, some of you are fiends. you KNOW who you are. *cough*Miss Sarcasm*cough* Mm, finally, I got the next chapter up. Whoop-de-fuckin'-doo.My mood has changed, recently to a very not nice mood. I am not sure why. It may have something to do with my diet of cookies and anything sugary. Yep, I'm gonna die, soon. Anyway, this one took me a while, a really LONG while, but, it's up, and eh, well, I can't say I'm too happy with it, but whatever. It's in the sort of perspective that Nny would be talking to one of his victims. Bleh. Read and review. or flame. I don't care. Oh, and LAZ-E-BOY and Viagra are (R) to themselves. Whatever (R) is. I forgot.
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CHAPTER FOUR - c o n t e m p l a t i o n - then - a n n i h a l a t i o n
Oh, wonderful! You're awake. How was your sleep? Don't look at me like you're confused, you bloodsack. You're here for a reason. What's all this, you ask? Well, this, is my humble abode. Although, I guess you can't really call it humble. it's more or less...mind-twistingly sickening and horrific. Oh, that? That's the "WALL." Although now, it's completely dissipated, I used to have to paint it with the blood of human waste like you, you pompous gothic hypocrite. There's that look. stop it, you fuck. You're down here. and you're going to listen to me because I need someone to talk to, and that blonde girl in the other room is screaming too loud for me to even get a word in edge-wise. She's really wasting good air. Hear her? Yeah. she's got a nail in her left arm. and a few in her right. What!? Close your damn mouth, you sickening organism. I was feeling artsy.
Yess..so, you are down here, and you're wondering why, yes? I'm quite surprised you don't remember me, considering you felt that you knew me well enough to laugh in my face and say, and I quote, "Anorexic faggot with no life. 'HA HA HA.' He is weird." Because, I certainly did not know you and well, frankly, I still do not. But I can't say that I really want to know you, you know. You're my puppet, right now. I've got your strings. Literally. So you want to know "What the hell I'm talking about", hm? Look around you, Captain obvious. there's a headless corpse to your right and an over tanned, well, now, purple-esque looking dead girl to your left. Honestly, are you that oblivious?
You are going to die, here.
Ple-ease! Stop smacking yourself, This isn't a nightmare. It's worse. Ever hear of a little something called "REALITY"? No? Well, welcome to my life. It has been a reality. A big fucking bloody chunk of reality, and you got yourself sucked into it. Congratulations. Now, I suppose you are going to ask me to "Reconsider?" that "You can change?' Or...hm, maybe that, "You were only joking around!", Right? I thought so. Oh, how do I know this all? Hmmm...
I've been around. A lot.
Experience has shown me a lot. I just wish that you mindless zombie trend setters-and-followers could see it. See the stinking shit-masses that you all really are. Ah, don't bother trying to redeem yourself. You got in six feet over your head when you shot me that dirty look. And I DO keep those looks with me. I remember every single one, just like Jacob Marley, if you've ever read Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Story". You haven't? A pity. Such a good story. Poor Tim. Reminds me of Squee, a bit. Heh...Anyway, before I digress any further, I will explain. You see, in that story Mr.Marley had forged a chain of wrought Iron for himself, in life. In death, he had to wear the chain, travelling the world, suffering. Now, there are many differences between Jacob and myself, but I am quite prepared to back up my conviction. You see, I too, have a chain. Two chains, in fact. One that I forged myself, destroying the aforementioned shit-masses. Then, there is the chain that the masses forged for me, piling it on, link by link by link and so on, repeatedly. With every comment, every glance, glare, every difference they decide to point out between myself and "Them", creates another link. This chain I am speaking of is obviously metaphorical, but in the case of my emotion, at the moment, it is quite solid. It's wrapped around my neck, like some type of noose, just getting heavier and heavier, with each link constantly being created, one after another and there isn't a thing I can do to stop it's creation but to stop the people who create it. Ugh, look at you. Why are you acting so surprised? You don't think you're a part of all of this? You postulating blister.
And yet, you still laugh at me. WHY!? You can't be that entirely moronic! Oh..oh, is THAT why? "I'm going to Heaven and you're going to hell so NYEAH." Please. How Juvenile. Listen, you...you pathetic..THING. I've been to heaven. And to hell. and if you think GOD cares about you more than his LAZ-E-BOY Leather recliner and his Orange Fiz-wiz, and you have got another thing coming. If you're going to heaven, then, you have my best wishes. I hope you like chairs. You will be sitting on one for eternity, smiling like a monkey on viagra. DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!! I COULD JAM THIS KNIFE INTO YOUR JUGULAR VEIN RIGHT NOW AND YOU WOUULDN'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED BECAUSE I'M BETTING THAT YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE YOUR JUGULAR VEIN IS!! I control you, right now. If I say bark like a dog, you will. I know you will, because I can smell your fear. It reeks. But you see, I won't tell you to bark, because that would be demeaning to all canines. Even that fucking Chihuahua...ughh..that..chihuahua. Now. as for HELL.
Hell is an entirely different place. It's a lot nicer than heaven. No, there aren't any seas of fire or anything. It's quite like it is here. But the bad thing is, you don't get head-explody. That's not good. But a fat guy might buy you a bagel and then run screaming into the street and...ehh, I won't spoil it for you. So you want to know why? Why I'm like this? Hell, honestly, I haven't the slightest clue. I just know I've been in this shit-hole of a house for since I can remember, and I have been alone for since I can remember. Except for MEAT..Eff, D-doy...and bunny..Oh, them? I suppose you could call them...Physical manifestations of an inner voice. Yes, I do know I'm fucking crazy. If I could change that, don't you think I would? No, no, I haven't ever really known that link of feeling. Except..for maybe once. Yes, once there was a girl. She had a lovely personality, immense intellect, and I really liked her. She was nice. She was...Devi. I miss her. Oh, I tried to kill her. You do know all good things. end. and with my luck, she would have either been taken away from me or if not that, she would have left me. I can't have anything nice. It's kind of like letting a hyperactive kid with ADD into a porcelain and china store. 'S kind of depressing, when you think about it. In fact, I think I'll tell you about her,
She was perfect. I mean, absolutely perfect. She was everything that I wanted in a friend and more. She likes films, she works in a book store, so I assumed she read a lot, and was right. I read a lot too. She had the most beautiful smile. It was like, when I knew her, I had a life that existed outside of the killing and madness that plagues me so persistently today. actually, tonight. It's about 11:42 pm. But then again, there is obviously a rule written down somewhere that said Crazed killers bent on preforming ghoulishly horrifying acts of murder can't be happy with anyone. I know this sounds a bit self centred, but whose going to tell? They never come out alive. What? What do you think I mean?! You imbecile. I mean, that no one who enters my domain leaves. Ehhhhh, except for Devi. Oh, and that one guy that I forced to clean my fridge. but besides him, it was only her. to tell the absolute truth, she kicked my ass. I was haemorrhaging for hours. And I despise blood and every other bodily liquid that can be thought of. Waste of the organism. So entirely superfluous. Bu anyway, I think I may have been in love with her. I think I still am. I can't call her anymore, so now the only options I have are email, which I think I just blew through the roof a few days ago, and then there's talking to her in person, which won't work, because I tried to see her and tried to attack me with a knife. She's untalented with he blade. Maybe she should stick o Tae-kwan-do. Hmm..
Well, I'm going to another room, or something right now. you face is starting to sicken me. I'll be back in an hour or two to... kill you. Probably. or you might get lucky, and we could have another conversation. Well, this was fun. Oh, and, enjoy your stay. You could be here for a while. What? Oh, I know the smell is nauseating. Hehehe,
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CHAPTER FOUR - c o n t e m p l a t i o n - then - a n n i h a l a t i o n
Oh, wonderful! You're awake. How was your sleep? Don't look at me like you're confused, you bloodsack. You're here for a reason. What's all this, you ask? Well, this, is my humble abode. Although, I guess you can't really call it humble. it's more or less...mind-twistingly sickening and horrific. Oh, that? That's the "WALL." Although now, it's completely dissipated, I used to have to paint it with the blood of human waste like you, you pompous gothic hypocrite. There's that look. stop it, you fuck. You're down here. and you're going to listen to me because I need someone to talk to, and that blonde girl in the other room is screaming too loud for me to even get a word in edge-wise. She's really wasting good air. Hear her? Yeah. she's got a nail in her left arm. and a few in her right. What!? Close your damn mouth, you sickening organism. I was feeling artsy.
Yess..so, you are down here, and you're wondering why, yes? I'm quite surprised you don't remember me, considering you felt that you knew me well enough to laugh in my face and say, and I quote, "Anorexic faggot with no life. 'HA HA HA.' He is weird." Because, I certainly did not know you and well, frankly, I still do not. But I can't say that I really want to know you, you know. You're my puppet, right now. I've got your strings. Literally. So you want to know "What the hell I'm talking about", hm? Look around you, Captain obvious. there's a headless corpse to your right and an over tanned, well, now, purple-esque looking dead girl to your left. Honestly, are you that oblivious?
You are going to die, here.
Ple-ease! Stop smacking yourself, This isn't a nightmare. It's worse. Ever hear of a little something called "REALITY"? No? Well, welcome to my life. It has been a reality. A big fucking bloody chunk of reality, and you got yourself sucked into it. Congratulations. Now, I suppose you are going to ask me to "Reconsider?" that "You can change?' Or...hm, maybe that, "You were only joking around!", Right? I thought so. Oh, how do I know this all? Hmmm...
I've been around. A lot.
Experience has shown me a lot. I just wish that you mindless zombie trend setters-and-followers could see it. See the stinking shit-masses that you all really are. Ah, don't bother trying to redeem yourself. You got in six feet over your head when you shot me that dirty look. And I DO keep those looks with me. I remember every single one, just like Jacob Marley, if you've ever read Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Story". You haven't? A pity. Such a good story. Poor Tim. Reminds me of Squee, a bit. Heh...Anyway, before I digress any further, I will explain. You see, in that story Mr.Marley had forged a chain of wrought Iron for himself, in life. In death, he had to wear the chain, travelling the world, suffering. Now, there are many differences between Jacob and myself, but I am quite prepared to back up my conviction. You see, I too, have a chain. Two chains, in fact. One that I forged myself, destroying the aforementioned shit-masses. Then, there is the chain that the masses forged for me, piling it on, link by link by link and so on, repeatedly. With every comment, every glance, glare, every difference they decide to point out between myself and "Them", creates another link. This chain I am speaking of is obviously metaphorical, but in the case of my emotion, at the moment, it is quite solid. It's wrapped around my neck, like some type of noose, just getting heavier and heavier, with each link constantly being created, one after another and there isn't a thing I can do to stop it's creation but to stop the people who create it. Ugh, look at you. Why are you acting so surprised? You don't think you're a part of all of this? You postulating blister.
And yet, you still laugh at me. WHY!? You can't be that entirely moronic! Oh..oh, is THAT why? "I'm going to Heaven and you're going to hell so NYEAH." Please. How Juvenile. Listen, you...you pathetic..THING. I've been to heaven. And to hell. and if you think GOD cares about you more than his LAZ-E-BOY Leather recliner and his Orange Fiz-wiz, and you have got another thing coming. If you're going to heaven, then, you have my best wishes. I hope you like chairs. You will be sitting on one for eternity, smiling like a monkey on viagra. DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!! I COULD JAM THIS KNIFE INTO YOUR JUGULAR VEIN RIGHT NOW AND YOU WOUULDN'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED BECAUSE I'M BETTING THAT YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE YOUR JUGULAR VEIN IS!! I control you, right now. If I say bark like a dog, you will. I know you will, because I can smell your fear. It reeks. But you see, I won't tell you to bark, because that would be demeaning to all canines. Even that fucking Chihuahua...ughh..that..chihuahua. Now. as for HELL.
Hell is an entirely different place. It's a lot nicer than heaven. No, there aren't any seas of fire or anything. It's quite like it is here. But the bad thing is, you don't get head-explody. That's not good. But a fat guy might buy you a bagel and then run screaming into the street and...ehh, I won't spoil it for you. So you want to know why? Why I'm like this? Hell, honestly, I haven't the slightest clue. I just know I've been in this shit-hole of a house for since I can remember, and I have been alone for since I can remember. Except for MEAT..Eff, D-doy...and bunny..Oh, them? I suppose you could call them...Physical manifestations of an inner voice. Yes, I do know I'm fucking crazy. If I could change that, don't you think I would? No, no, I haven't ever really known that link of feeling. Except..for maybe once. Yes, once there was a girl. She had a lovely personality, immense intellect, and I really liked her. She was nice. She was...Devi. I miss her. Oh, I tried to kill her. You do know all good things. end. and with my luck, she would have either been taken away from me or if not that, she would have left me. I can't have anything nice. It's kind of like letting a hyperactive kid with ADD into a porcelain and china store. 'S kind of depressing, when you think about it. In fact, I think I'll tell you about her,
She was perfect. I mean, absolutely perfect. She was everything that I wanted in a friend and more. She likes films, she works in a book store, so I assumed she read a lot, and was right. I read a lot too. She had the most beautiful smile. It was like, when I knew her, I had a life that existed outside of the killing and madness that plagues me so persistently today. actually, tonight. It's about 11:42 pm. But then again, there is obviously a rule written down somewhere that said Crazed killers bent on preforming ghoulishly horrifying acts of murder can't be happy with anyone. I know this sounds a bit self centred, but whose going to tell? They never come out alive. What? What do you think I mean?! You imbecile. I mean, that no one who enters my domain leaves. Ehhhhh, except for Devi. Oh, and that one guy that I forced to clean my fridge. but besides him, it was only her. to tell the absolute truth, she kicked my ass. I was haemorrhaging for hours. And I despise blood and every other bodily liquid that can be thought of. Waste of the organism. So entirely superfluous. Bu anyway, I think I may have been in love with her. I think I still am. I can't call her anymore, so now the only options I have are email, which I think I just blew through the roof a few days ago, and then there's talking to her in person, which won't work, because I tried to see her and tried to attack me with a knife. She's untalented with he blade. Maybe she should stick o Tae-kwan-do. Hmm..
Well, I'm going to another room, or something right now. you face is starting to sicken me. I'll be back in an hour or two to... kill you. Probably. or you might get lucky, and we could have another conversation. Well, this was fun. Oh, and, enjoy your stay. You could be here for a while. What? Oh, I know the smell is nauseating. Hehehe,
