Author's Note: Recognize a place, character, or event? Chances are, it's Jhonen's! You know what's a great song? "The Great Below" by Nine Inch Nails. Why am I telling you this? Why am I delaying the writing of this chapter?

Chapter Four

Thou Shalt Not Kill (Much)

Dear Die-ary,

I have fed the ghost of innocence, I have given it comfortable bedding and have even prepared time to let the innocence rest. So why does it want so much? And I've played cards with the little kid and such, but he won. Five times, too.

I'm a poor card player. Not a loser though. I won't even get into that.

Is it possible to both move away from emotion and at the same time subject yourself to allowing your emotion to be diverted to one thing? More specifically,

*-.,.-*-.,.-*-.,.-*

" See, Squee? I've got three aces and two queens. Beat that," Johnny announced triumphantly, putting his cards down, " and I'll make cocoa. And drink it too." He felt the churn in his stomach at the idea. Hot chocolate… how sickening! He doubted he even had any hot chocolate in his entire house, not to mention mugs to put the cocoa in them. He had some old teacups that he found at a garage sale, but he had shattered a great majority of them and then used the jagged edges to make slow and painful cuts on the skin of the victims.

" Look. One of the ace things, a king, a queen, a jack, and a ten!" Squee gawked triumphantly at his cards. He looked up at Johnny, still a bit frightened to let his eyes meet his directly, " Is that good? Did I win, Mr. Nny?"

Johnny blinked, " That's a royal flush, Squee."

" Oh…" Squee whispered nervously.

" You won!" Johnny gasped incredulously, " Fifth time in a row. Are you… You're messing with the deck!" Johnny flipped the card deck over and then flipped through the cards. It was all rather fair and clean though. Squee had himself a pretty mean good luck streak in poker.

Squee shivered, his eyes getting wider and wider, like slowly inflating balloons, " Are you mad?" He bit his lower lip, raking his teeth across the already tattered flesh of his lip.

" No, no," Johnny said through clenched teeth, " Surprised, maybe!" He rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully and then stood, " Uh, bed time, right?"

Squee stared at him with a guilty smile appearing on his face.

" What?" Johnny asked nervously. That smile – the smile suggested that Squee knew things that stretched farther and deeper than what Johnny understood at the moment, and the smile scared Johnny. It was the smile he faintly recognized, but he pushed the memory back, " What? Is there a snot hanging out of my nose or something?" He traced his index finger under his nose nervously.

" No," Squee giggled despite himself, " You said you'll make cocoa. You don't have to though," He added fearfully, " If you don't want to. If it makes you really, really mad. Like when you rode over a squirrel, you were so mad. And you put it in my room, too," Squee's cheeks drained of color at the memory. He had woken up and leaned forwards in his bed… and there it was – road kill, right on his smiley-face quilt.

" I'm not going to get that mad again," Johnny said, " I'll try not to."

Just then, he heard it. You will fail. You need to succumb to those desires, Johnny. You are a slave to those desires. You are a slave to your own miserable needs. You want to kill, your fingers quiver at the idea of wielding your blade again. That voice in his head, that angry voice, it was not his own voice. It was the voice of Reverend Meat.

" Squee, no. Get to bed," Johnny hissed. Luckily, Squee had eaten dinner (Johnny still had to pre-taste everything to assure Squee that it was not laced with arsenic). The slurp of broccoli and tofu surprise was congealing in his stomach like an old burrito.

Squee's eyes were wide as saucers again and he raced to the foam mattress that was his bed. He laid on it, shivering. Whatever hopes he had that perhaps Johnny was a bit friendlier than he thought were dashed apart once again.

Johnny stood in the room, staring at the trembling little boy on the mat, and then slowly left the room, flicking the main light off and leaving a night light on. He closed the heavy set of oak doors behind him, but in his hurry he didn't lock the door.

He sat down in the kitchen and breathed in and out deeply. The voices were being stifled well, he was trying to keep them away. If he wanted to fully and totally become a hermit from the people he so despised, he'd have to do it through only one way – cut off all contact with them. He would only leave his home if the food supply ran short. He was hoping that Squee would be trained well enough to go out for him sooner or later, once the people in the mental hospital forgot all about him. He sort of felt that the government wanted "parasites" like Squee gone anyway, they only fed off of tax money.

Johnny couldn't achieve his hermit goal though if he was pressurized by voices to kill. The kill in him was mainly controlled by the wall before, though! And yet, once the wall was removed, he still killed! He didn't even understand it, perhaps he was so used to it. Perhaps it was Reverend Meat's influence.

And now that he finally understood what he must do to isolate himself, the voice of Meat was back. And if it was back, Squee was not safe with him in the same room. Johnny huddled his head in his hands, it being the tender basket of troubles that he knew it was. He closed his eyes and whispered, " I have no desires to kill. It's you that is instilling them in me. I want nothing to do with those… those pathetic creatures out there. Nothing."

He felt a wave of sorrow just then, a crushing weight on his chest. He stared at the waning face of the crescent moon outside and wished he was like the moon – cold, unemotional, simply serving its purpose and nothing more.

Without emotion, he would be able to hold back the stupid voices. But the longer he'd stay by Squee, the stronger his attachment to the little boy would grow. Eventually, he would have to become a mechanical existence, though, and his duty would be to shelter and preserve the innocence he found in Squee. He just wanted Squee to grow up different, shielded from the world Johnny despised.

Is that so wrong?

He pulled out his diary and wrote.

*-.,.-*-.,.-*-.,.-*

Johnny didn't know how long he'd been sitting at the kitchen table, spaced out, but when he finally stopped writing and snapped to it, it was very bright outside. He turned and then stared in surprise at the open door that led to Squee's room.

" I left it open," His mind thought hazily, " I left the door open."

He stood, ready to close it again, shaking his head at his own foolishness, when reality struck him hard. He raced down the staircase and stared at the foam mattress that Squee had been lying at just hours before. He was gone.

The cards were scattered all across the room, he had been in a hurry.

" He escaped?" Johnny thought, almost not comprehending, " He's gone?"

There was a slow moment just then where he had no clue what has going on, where his mind was floating hazily through a river of silk, and he couldn't concentrate. It was all swimming by him quickly and he slumped against the wall of the room in a daze.

" Okay," Johnny whispered to himself, " What am I going to do now? He's out there, all alone! Who knows what the hell will happen to him?"

His heart was pounding and he felt an unusual big-brother instinct to race outside and start calling his name. He knew he couldn't call the police, he couldn't risk it. The police couldn't find him, but he could always find the police. The consequences of that would be horrendous.

Johnny ran a shaking hand through his hair again and then tried to think logically, so I'll just go around and try to find help. Yeah, I'll find someone who can help me find him. Then he harsh reality came again – he had no one.

He took a wavering breath.

Alright, I'll do it myself, he thought, I'll do a better job myself then if I had a partner tagging around after me anyway. But where would Squee go? What could he do? His parents could look outside and see him at any time, and I know that his parents don't want him back… but would Squee come back to them?

Johnny ran outside and then to the neighbor's. There was only one way to find out.

He rang the doorbell and waited impatiently.

Squee's father opened. He had a five o'clock shadow on his face even though it was morning. The father stared Johnny up and down and said, " I'm not joining your goddamn religion, I'm not buying cookies, we don't want insurance, and my wife already has a vacuum." The father was already closing the door but Johnny caught the handle.

" Sir!" Johnny said darkly, " Is, ah, your son home?"

" We don't have a son," The father replied gravely, " Leave. You don't know anything."

The door slammed in Johnny's face.

Johnny shrugged, I guess Squee's not here then. So I know he's somewhat safer wherever else he is. Johnny strolled down the street, his eyes staring out into the distance thoughtfully. Wherever Squee had run off to, he would find him. If anyone were to find out about the kidnapping, Squee would be able to locate Johnny's house. Johnny didn't trust Squee, and therefore he knew he had to find Squee as fast as he could.

Oh, who am I kidding? Johnny thought miserably, I may as well split town now.

He looked at his house dejectedly and wondered how long he should search before he'll move again, this time giving up entirely on society.

*-.,.-*-.,.-*-.,.-*

Devi heard the knocking on the main door of the apartment complex but did nothing about it. She pushed a cheese chip into her mouth and then put on some nice piano music so that the soothing sound calmed her frayed nerves. She'd had an awful time at work, and eventually she told her boss she was quitting. It was too stressful.

Instead, she had found a rather pleasant job in selling her paintings, which were raking in quite a lot of dough. People would look at them and see things that meant something to them personally, which was hard to get out of an audience.

Then she heard the sharp buzz of the doorbell. Then the doorbell in the apartment above her rang. Then the bell in the apartment below her, and to each side as well. Someone really wanted to get in!

Devi stood from the couch she was sitting on, putting aside her sketch notebook, and pushed the button on the intercom. There was a new intercom installed so that she could signal for video feed whenever she wanted. She said, first, "Who is it?"

" Please," Came a soft voice in reply.

Devi felt shivers run down her spine. She pressed a button and then received the live video feed – a small little boy was standing there, his eyes filled with tears. He looked tired, as if he'd been escaping from someplace for a long time.

" Who are you?" Devi asked.

" I don't have a home," The boy persisted, " I'm hungry, and the man in the restaurant across the street said I should beg for food here. Please?"

Devi's heart melted. A little boy couldn't hurt her, right? She sighed and said, " Come on in, but only for a bit, because I'm leaving for an art gallery showing in an hour."

Little did she know how attached she'd get to the boy in a matter of minutes.

Author's Note: Oh yeah! Devi and Johnny might just have to battle it out as to who has to have custody of the kid! Will Johnny get Devi's forgiveness? Will Squee help show Johnny's sensitive side? Will Johnny combat the voice of Reverend Meat and help himself out of the sad idea that his emotions driving him to kill? Will he learn to love?

Review and Find Out!