O...M...G…
I have been away for faaar too long it feels like, yes? Anyways…I do hope some of you shall forgive me and my absence…BUT I COME BEARING GIFTS!!
(Once more, Jhonen "lord and master" Vasquez owns JTHM, not meee)
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"Tell me…Amery…who is this Ms. M?" Johnny looked down into the girls pale green eyes. At the sound of her name, they squinted as if she were looking into the sun. Just then, a loud bang rang through the doors from the possible corridors behind them. Amery looked back up into Nny's eyes.
"I have to go now, please don't tell Ms. M I was here!" she whimpered before running back through the hook-lock door, dragging her painfully heavy tube behind her, and clutching her plush dog to her tiny body. As the girl left, Johnny could hear the clinking of heels growing louder and louder down the halls. He looked around, trying to find something, anything that might help him out of the metal straps. But of course, it was futile.
The large gray double doors flung open, and in stepped two large burly men in black coats with large oddly constructed machines strapped to their backs that appeared to be made of clock gears and steam pumps. The faces of the men were hidden by black masks, highly detailed in embroidered silver framework and each carrying an individual symbol engraved in the forehead. The eyes of the men were also guised with goggle-like coverings, and their mouths covered with a silver mesh.
Behind the two men, was a figure much like what Johnny expected; a tall, middle-aged woman, clad in a white suit with silver pin-stripes, her hair was up in a tight bun and her lips burned deep rouge. But it was her eyes that caught Johnny, those glistening gray eyes that seemed to reflect the color of the cold walls around him.
"Hello Mr. Carlos, or shall I just call you Nny? After all, it is what you prefer, is it not?" Ms. M spoke in a very refined manner, very posh, but not strict. She must feel very highly about herself, Johnny thought, enslaving little children. Nny did not even look at the woman, but only at his feet, which he noticed, were deprived of foot-wear.
"Oh, your boots, you wont be needing those for awhile…oh no…can't have you thrashing those about can we Mr. Nny." She walked closer to Johnny, those horrible red lips pursing and glistening at him, "Now, why don't you tell me a little about yourself Nny, the parts I'm still curious about."
"What are you talking about?" Johnny looked up into Ms. M's steel eyes; those eyes that were, at this very moment, cutting deep into his skin and into his mind. Further and further into him. Ms. M grabbed Johnny by the cuff of his shirt and began to shake him violently and unfortunately (being strapped down) he could do nothing to prevent it.
"YOU KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT YOU MISERABLE LITTLE PUNK! Tell me about the beast! TELL ME ABOUT THE BEAST!" Ms. M finally threw Johnny's head back into the chair and took a step back. She began to pace in front of Johnny, like a wolf circling a defenseless rabbit.
"You know Johnny, your quite the specimen, did you know that? No, you probably don't. Its sad when people are so distracted by meaningless little tasks the world throws infront of them that they lack the attention span to fully notice the gifts they have been given! And you, Johnny, possess a very unique gift…and a very powerful force." Ms. M walked back over to Johnny, and perched her right arm over the top of the chair. Her left hand preoccupied itself by rubbing along Johnny's wild (and un-gelled) hair.
"Again…I have no fucking idea as to what the hell you're talking about lady! I just want my slushy!" Johnny yelled anxiously at Ms. M as she continued to stroke him. Ms. M then strolled away from Johnny and, as she did so, closed her eyes and began to hum a childish little tune to her self; she continued to hum the song and dance in the dimming lights of the cold room, twirling around cords and wires, her head bobbing and wavering limply as she moved and curved her body. Johnny was convinced: this woman was severely disturbed, perhaps more than he himself.
Ms. M strolled herself back to Johnny, and waltzed to the back of the chair to which he was held to. Slowly, her long spidery fingers crept through his mess of black hair. The sensation, THAT sensation filled him again. That damned sensation. Johnny bit onto his bottom lip, so hard that it wouldn't surprise him if it burst that very second. She then lowered her head to his shoulder; he could feel her warm breath on his ear, breathing in, out, in, out. Closer she came, too close. Johnny's impulses screamed for him to run, run from her, but he couldn't, his arms and legs were trapped. He was trapped. Her heartbeat, he could actually hear her heart beat. Or was that his own heart?
"Tell me…Johnny…about the Moose." Her lips came closer to his face. Wet, cold, dripping water, not water, saliva; Ms. M continued to lick Johnny's face, like a cat cleaning its partner or young, "tell me about the moose, or else…you will discover death isn't the only inevitability."
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WHEEE!! Do tell if this was a treat for you and REVIEW!! Pleasey weasy cherry fizzy?