Somewhere across town, a thin man in a black duster jacket walked through an empty alleyway. It was getting late, but he didn't want to go back home. If he went home he would have to listen to that damned Reverend Meat. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, he simply sighed and continued walking.
Johnny had given up on the idea of desensitization a long time ago. He just couldn't be fully rid of his emotions. Whenever he thought that he was close an all-consuming sorrow came over him. It was as though not having any emotion was the saddest thing of all. His hair had also grown back out to the way that it was before instead of the two tufts of hair that jutted out from his skull like two horns.
The steel tips of his boots made a vague metallic clacking noise as he walked down the narrow alley. Nny began to watch his feet as he walked, wondering why he should keep moving them. He began to question everything. Why did he even bother to get up out of his chair? Why should he go home when there was just as much for him out here? He just didn't have answers to all the 'why's that plagued his thoughts like a love starved child does to anybody who will pay attention.
Nny shook his head, trying to banish the thoughts from his troubled mind. He really should just try to get home and maybe watch some television. It's all he ever did. His life seemed even more empty now than it had before. What the hell was wrong with him? He just needed to know so that he could fix it. He couldn't fix it. He knew that, but he just wanted to try. Maybe he could get all better one day and things would be normal. He'd have a job and there wouldn't be hundreds of corpses underneath his house and all along the country where he had been. Maybe…
Johnny was nearly on top of the man before he saw him there. He had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he hadn't even noticed it when a bulky looking man had stepped into the alleyway directly in his path. The man was about six foot two and had the body type of some sort of weight lifter. His head was shaved and covered with tattoos, which would prevent the hair from ever growing back again even if he did want it. Johnny almost snickered at how typical the man looked.
"I think you should give me your wallet," growled the man, whose voice was surprisingly low-pitched. He pulled out what appeared to be a Desert Eagle. Momentarily, Nny wondered just how this man had gotten such a dangerous weapon. "Now just give it up and I won't have to kill you." He sneered, showing off his crooked and yellowing teeth. Nny was pretty sure that this man would need several surgeries to fix all of his dental problems.
Not at all in the mood to deal with any people, Nny pulled a dagger from his coat and spread his feet apart a little for better balance. Taken a backed a little, the man took an unsure step backwards, focusing on the knife in Johnny's right hand. This was the perfect opportunity to strike, and Johnny knew it. Without wasting a moment, Johnny lunged forward, his knife aimed directly at the man's heart. Feeling the blade bite into the man's chest and cut through his heart, Nny was reminded of his past once again. He couldn't remember the first time he had killed somebody, but he knew that it had been a long time ago. He also knew that it hadn't been just because of the thing behind the wall.
The man simply fell to the ground, not even having the time to utter a cry. Nny watched the man's face as he fell, wondering exactly what was going through his head. He wasn't quite sure if he really cared, but he wondered just for the fact that he wanted to know just what a person's final thoughts are. Once again deep in thought, Johnny didn't notice the man's accomplice come up behind him from behind a nearby dumpster. The man stood for a moment, aiming his shaking gun and shot Nny in the back.
Ripped from his thoughts, Johnny turned around to find the other man standing, dumbfounded at the sight before him. It was obvious that the man had never used a gun before and had definitely not expected for his partner to die on this little expedition. Ignoring the pain in his chest, Johnny pulled a second knife from inside of his coat and flung it at the man's head, hitting his mark with ease.
'This just isn't my night,' Johnny couldn't help but muse.
The danger gone, Johnny put his hand to the wound to try to slow the blood flow. The pain was unimaginable. He didn't recall it hurting so much when he had been shot in the head by the device he rigged up to kill himself. The pain seemed to shoot out in every direction and touch every part of him. Nny had had enough experience with blood and death to know that holding out hope of surviving through the night was almost childish.
Nny ripped the bottom hem off of the shirt of the man he had just thrown the knife at and bandaged his wounds as best he could, though he knew that it would do little to help him. When he had left his home that night, he had no clue that things would end up like this. He didn't know that he was going to end up dieing alone in the city somewhere. He didn't want to die alone. He had spent all of his life alone, he at least didn't want to die alone as well.
This was wrong. He was Nny. He couldn't die! So why did he feel so weak already?
Johnny stumbled out of the alleyway, not really knowing where he was going, but knowing that he didn't want to die in that dump that he had been calling home for the past few years of his life. He had been trapped there for as long as he could remember; he didn't want his corpse to rot away in that shit hole, only to be found when the neighbors finally complained of a strong stench, or some vagrant came to try to find a place to get out of the rain. He was pretty sure that neither of these things would even happen if he were to die there. He would just die, and rot away, and spend eternity in that house, alone. He didn't want to be alone forever.
As it was, though, Johnny didn't know where to go. He could possibly go to Squee, but the poor thing was already so very traumatized. He felt so bad for that kid. Johnny only wanted to help him, but it seemed that everything he did just terrified the poor child more and more. But whom else did Johnny know? There was Devi. But Devi hated him. Still, where else did he have to go? He knew that she would probably just lock the door and call the cops, but at least he might get to see her one last time.
Finally knowing where he was heading, Johnny picked up his pace. He had to make it there before it was too late. He had to tell her how sorry he was and how much he really did like her. The streets were cold and empty, just like the rest of his life had always been, leaving Nny feeling very introspective. This place had once been his hunting grounds. He had once been the predator, killing those worthless beings that had the audacity to call themselves "humans". Now he was a wounded animal. Struggling to make it to a safe haven to die. Struggling to keep the world from swimming as he trudged to the only place on earth that he could think of to go to.
The pale light spilling from streetlamps only worked to intensify the feeling of emptiness. Johnny waded through one pool of light to the next, not relenting in the pace he had set for himself, even though his head throbbed and his body trembled. He was almost there. He couldn't stop now.
Johnny made his way through the apartment building that Devi lived in, practically crawling up the stairs, and leaving a bloody trail behind him. Thankfully it was too late for most people to be wandering the halls, and the only people who were, were too wrapped up in themselves to even notice the dieing man as he passed them. Finally, Nny stood in front of Devi's door, panting for breathe slightly, and beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea after all. It was too late for second thoughts, though, being that Johnny was too worn out and had lost too much blood already, he collapsed with a loud thud against the door.