The dull, hazy moonlight seeped through the blinds, illuminating the sharp features of Johnny's face. He looked to be etched out of stone, he hadn't moved in hours. Devi's head rested on his lap and he was unwilling to awaken her as she slept, without stirring, stomach down beside him. He was positioned at the end of the couch; one arm draped over the arm of the sofa, the other atop Devi's shoulder. A neglected clock on the wall read 6:50am through the cobwebs enclosing it – Johnny had seen no reason to change the battery.

            His eyes were fixated on Devi, they hadn't strayed from her face for a great deal of time. Realising the awkwardness that may arise should she awaken in such a position, Johnny attempted to dislodge himself from underneath Devi's head. Grasping the arm of the couch with both hands, he hoisted himself up, sliding his legs delicately from underneath the sleeping body. He leapt over the end of the sofa, taking care to do so in as quiet a manner as possible. Taking one last glance at the object of his affection, who slept on gracefully without a stir, Johnny crept out of the living room and down the hall.

            He knew exactly where he was heading for. The second door down was the only door he had ever had cause to lock, and he currently withdrew a small silver key from his pocket. Glancing cautiously over his shoulder (though he knew he was the only conscious being in the house) he slide the key into the lock and turned it, the door clicked open. Narrowly opening it, he side stepped into the room, closing the door behind him, as though unwilling to let the air inside escape.

            There was little, verging on no, light in this room. Johnny's eyes took some time to adjust, though even after several minutes, all he could make out were the jagged, imposing shadows of various artefacts littering the space around him. Many of these were canvases which stood on easels – paintings of his own from the time before his inspiration had run dry [A.N. Shit, those might be song lyrics I once heard, not sure where from though…]. There were numerous paintings displayed on them, all unfinished due to Johnny's impatienc, and fickle nature, towards his art; he could never concentrate on one thing for too long.

Though they were unrecognisable in this light, Johnny knew exactly which painting lay where: the one nearest him bore a grim scene of an alleyway which harboured a dark silhouette at one end; the one standing on his far right showed the bleeding eyes of a demon; to his near left stood an intimidating portrait of a doll hanging by a noose; over by the opposite wall was the face of a fallen angel, horribly emaciated, this was possibly one of the most refined of his pieces. However, the painting he had returned to study was not one of his own. He had propped it up against the wall, just below his own fallen angel, after finding it in Devi's apartment.

He made his way towards it, utterly baffled by its sheer force of will in luring him in. He couldn't quite manage a reason as to why he was so drawn to it. It seemed no more fascinating than any of Devi's other works, yet he experienced a strange feeling when observing it; a strange prickling sensation which ran through his very nerves. It chilled him. Though the doll didn't appear to have any functioning eyes, he felt as though, if they were visible, they would follow his every movement relentlessly.

He hadn't a clue as to how long he stood before the painting, unable to tear his eyes away from it. He felt as though he was being judged. His thoughts were disrupted, however, by a soft moaning. It didn't seem to be originating from below the house, so Johnny thought this to be good cause to check on Devi. Sighing slightly he exited the room, leaving the doll to contemplate alone.

"mmng… nngh… the screws… mmmngh"

Johnny peered down at the writhing form which lay across his couch. She had been tossing and turning since he had returned, muttering nonsense about screws and red paint.

"The screws! That jar was empty… paint, paint… no red paint…"

Johnny cocked his head to the side and furrowed his eyebrows. He wondered whether or not he should wake her. Should he be listening to this?

Of course you should. You're in charge around here, she's your property now. You can do what the hell you want.

Silently, Johnny knelt down beside her, listening intently.

"They're coming undone, mother. The screws… No! You're mine now, you fucking idiot!…"

She jerked her shoulders about and shook her head, as though fighting some tranquillising drug threatening to overpower her.

Johnny was now completely absorbed in her words, unable to move or even let another breath escape his lips – what she was murmuring sounded so familiar…

"We take care of you… you can do whatever you want… even kill."

Johnny felt something stir in the depths of his stomach. He scrunched his eyes shut to aid his concentration. The voice. It had spoken to him in the same way it had spoken to Devi. Yet he had thought it was his own subconscious. Though it seemed now as though it were some external force, of which he was not the sole victim.

His chain of thought was broken from a sigh emitted from Devi's mouth. "It's so pretty when you're looking down on it."

Shit.

He knew that phrase. He'd relived the memory of it in his mind countless times, as he was sure she had done too, for varying reasons. She had said that to him moments before they decided to return to his house together. Somehow, her dream connected the two happenings of their date and the voices. Was it possible that this was where it had originated from – them meeting? No. He knew his problems had started long before that. How about hers? Could I be responsible for the voices which plague her dreams? Is she like me? But maybe she fought it? Perhaps she could help me? No. Don't be foolish, she won't help you. But… that doll… so familiar… If she became like me, she'd feel the same as me. This would be past driving her to the brink of insanity…

"You're thinking bad thoughts."

Johnny whipped his head around, startled by the sudden manifestation of a voice beside him. Realising where it was coming from, he rolled his eyes wearily. "Sod off D-boy."

"It's obvious that's not what you want. You want us now, don't you? We're helping you. You want us to invade the mind of your girlfriend here, just like we invaded yours."

Realising the delicateness of the situation he now found himself in, Johnny took several minutes to gather his thoughts, as Psycho Doughboy sneered at him. "Why would you help me? I thought you wanted me to kill myself."

"It makes no difference to me who's mind I destroy. She may be more persuadable than you."

"She isn't though. You know that, because otherwise you'd have been able to get to her. Just like you got to me."

"It's a rather complicated situation. Let's just say, with the help of an animate object this will be a lot easier."

Johnny turned towards the now motionless figure in question. This would require a great deal of pre-meditation. She was the innocent party here. He'd brought her into his world against her will, kicking and screaming. The voices that plagued her mind were most likely his doing, and yet she had fought against them with every fibre of her being. Should he undo all of her efforts for his own selfish purposes? If the situation took a turn in his desired direction, it was clear that it would only be temporarily; sooner or later they would consume her completely. They only required one life, and with his help, that would be hers. Was it at all possible for him to outwit them? He was unwilling to overestimate himself to such an extent.

"It's what you want, Nny. Either way we'll get to you. We are unstoppable. You thought we were gone. You did. We never leave. We merely bide our time. It's you or her. Better her, and provide yourself with a short time of bliss together."

"What makes you so certain it's what I want?"

"You may be a monster. But you're still human. Deep down you want to be loved. You may not express love in such a tasteless. Lust infested way as the remainder of the population, but the temptation's still there."

There was a brief pause in which Nny speculated this. "What do I need to do?"

"Replace the screws and Sickness will be unleashed."

"The screws? That's what she talks about in her sleep. Those nightmares."

"Yes. Young Devi is well aware of the situation. More so than you I'd say."

"What is it she's aware of?"

"What we are. What we want. That's how she fought against Sickness. I say Sickness, but really that's just what she calls us. You know what you call us."

"So… you're not a part of me?"

            This query was met with a slight chuckle from the Styrofoam demon, "Me dear boy, we are now. Now that you've let us in."

"What will happen to her?"

"Exactly what we were hoping would happen to you."

A lengthy pause was his reply.

"I trust you've come to your senses. Be a dear a put the screws back in, mother."

[A.N. Ok, um.. Unknowner, that's really weird, because that weas exactly what I was planning to have happen… meh… I guess the whoe Johnny'Devi storyline's destined to be circular, unless it ends up being corny…]