Motivation

Another JtHM story, a one-shot. This one involves Devi, Tenna, and Johnny. There's also Sickness and Spooky.

Devi is a tortured artists, a creative force, purple haired and extremely anxious and irritable. Tenna is a good friend and has the attention span of a five year old and the ability to irritate you like a five year old. Johnny is an example of perfect intellectual potential gone horribly, horribly wrong. Sickness is a painting personified by a mysterious, dark force and likes to make Devi's life utterly miserable. Spooky is Tenna's squeak toy who also makes Devi's life utterly miserable for different reasons and not by its own accord. But you probably already knew all this.

Summary: Devi runs from Tenna, runs into Johnny, runs from Johnny, receives a phone call and spends a good while painting.

I do not own any of the characters portrayed here. I do, however, have a copy of JtHM the Director's Cut and the I Feel Sick books.

The apartment complex had been rebuilt fairly quickly after the plane crashed into it. The building still smelled of fuel and charred metal and fat. Many people died a flaming death. Some people went to the hospital for severe burns and broken bones. Those people would have flashbacks and seizures every time they saw a plane, be it real or a child's plastic one. Of course, the building was soon re-stocked with people and Devi locked herself in her home to avoid them. It seemed that these new tenants were just as annoying as the old ones.
Speaking of annoying, Tenna, having been out with Devi on the night of the crash, was still living here. In true Tenna fashion, she pounded on the door and squeeked her rubber Spooky toy and yelled at her to come out. It was times like those that made Devi wish a second plane would crash into the building; this time while Tenna was still in the building.

Devi hadn't gone out much since the Sickness incident. She had stayed in for more than a week catching up on all the painting she didn't do while she worked for Mr. Nevers from Nerve as an illustrator for less than mediocre horror and sci-fi novels. All they cared about was sales and they didn't even blink at the absurdity of putting a monkey on the cover of a book that only had radioactive zombie children in it. She knew that no force in Earth, Heaven or Hell would make her take back. She still had a good sum of the money she earned, but she wondered what job she would get when it started to dwindle.

Sickness used to be a painting of a doll with empty, black eyes, but some sort of dark force (or some shit like that) had given it a mind of its own. It had worked carefully so sap Devi of her creativity, her imagination and used it to make herself real. Devi caught on too quickly for Sickness's liking and she was forced to make her way out of the canvas and into reality. The look on Devi's face when she realized that she had siphoned her imagination to make herself into a creepy doll with screws for eyes and strange, scythe-like blades for legs had been priceless. Devi's surprise didn't last and the girl proceeded to spear her with a paintbrush and unscrew her eyes out. Sickness's body was now in a box, her eyes in Devi's backpack. Sometimes Devi could hear her moan out of the box, but it was mostly the occasional anger and screaming in the back of her mind she heard.

She was working on a painting, letting paint ooze and drip down the canvas to give it the look she wanted. As most of her paintings, the subject was something of a hideous and paranoid fancy, the colors dark, the meaning somber and angry. She took a few steps back from her painting to examine the shapes and compatibility, resting her chin on her pale, paint-stained hand, green eyes narrowed in concentration.

She restarted painting when a loud, girlish voice and shrill squeaks interrupted her concentration and making her seize up.

"DEVIII!" the voice yelled. Squeek! "You havta come out!" Squeek! "Let's go see a movie. I think Revenge of the Leprous Zombie Pirates IV came out. Zombie pirates! Blaaaargh!" Squeeeeky-squeek-SQEEEK!"

Devi clenched her teeth. Tenna. Well, at least this time she hadn't painted a huge, messy streak across the painting because of Tenna's screaming like last time. Devi took a deep breath and continued painting, ignoring Tenna's pleas to go see a bad movie with her. Maybe she'd go away if she thought she wasn't there.

"I know you're there! Spooky can hear you breathing!"

Damn Spooky and his super-sensitive hearing!

Maybe you should listen to her and go out, Sickness said. I bet your hands are really tired from all that painting.

Sickness had lost a long time ago, but that didn't stop her from trying to start the process of draining Devi. Devi chose to ignore the doll's suggestion and kept painting.

"What's that, Spooky?" Squeek! "You think we should camp out in front of Devi's door until she comes out?" Squeek squeek! "Man, I am sooo lucky I brought my sleeping bag with me. What a crazy coincidence, huh, Spooky?" Squeeeek.

Devi snapped her paintbrush in two and growled in frustration. She tied up her purple hair into two scythe-like ponytails with a irritated hiss. She gathered her coat and backpack from the entrance and stealthily made her way to the window.

"De-vay! This is your last chance to let me in before I camp out here!"

She slid the window open. Good, it didn't make a sound. She carefully stepped out. Her steel-tipped boots made a sound against the metal of the fire escape. Surely she couldn't have heard that. Squeek! Spooky, on the other hand…

"What's that, Spooky? She's using the fire escape?"

Fuck!

She climbed down the metal ladder and ran to her car. She could hear Tenna and her Spooky doll screaming and squeaking the whole way. Tenna came out of the building as Devi fumbled for her keys and desperately tried to get them into the ignition.

"Devi!" Tenna screamed. "I have to show you an awesome food place!"

She drove away, leaving Tenna in the dust.

It was a winter day and the snow was grey slush and water on the streets. Occasionally someone would slip on a patch of loose ice or a puddle of water and would proceed to sue the city. The sky had darkened a while ago. It had gotten as dark as it could get with the city's lights, meaning the sky was an odd color and many stars were missing from their places in the heavens.

Devi drove through the streets, aimless, wasting time she could be painting all because of Tenna and her relentless mission to make her more social. Damn Tenna. She was nice though, when she wanted to be, just barely tolerable. Devi smiled slightly.

You needed a break from painting anyway, Devi, Sickness's voice said in her head.

"Shut up," Devi hissed. "You aren't going to trick me again. When I get back, I'm painting again."

Damn you, Devi! You think just because you took my eyes I don't still own you? I own you, Devi! I OWN YOU!

Devi's smile spread as Sickness's voice went into another ineloquent fit of screaming and cursing. She felt like laughing.

She drove by stores announcing sales on old Christmas stuff. Nobody would buy them anyway. She drove past neon signs, past tall buildings, even past Dragon's Books, the store at which she worked before she quit that job for the Nerve thing. Maybe she'd try to get her job back there. Or maybe she'd find a job where she didn't have to deal with customers asking her if they have a maybe-it's-blue book.

As she passed the Foods Supermarket it came to her that she didn't have much of anything in her fridge or cabinets. She consumed little, but all that could be consumed could disappear. Lately she hadn't felt like going out, so it was likely she would spend more time eating at home than outside. Devi briefly wondered if she wasn't going out because Tenna wanted her to.

She went through the metal sliding doors and grabbed a metal basket. She made her way through the aisles looking for suitable food. None of these included fruit, fresh meat or anything remotely healthy. She got spray can cheese, sodas and different kinds of jerky and chips. She headed for the canned foods and pasta section. She filled her basket with cans of soup and packets of ramen noodles. She glared at the cans of canned meat. They looked like cans of dog food.

As she went down the aisle, the air began to feel different. It felt darker, diseased, unpleasant, and at the same time so very familiar.

It doesn't feel right here, Sickness said anxiously.

"I hate to agree with you, but…" she said softly as she reached out for a plastic cup of noodles.

Stay calm, Devi, she told herself as she set the noodles in the basket. Nothing's wrong. It's just that you haven't been outside for a while with other humans. That's it. Just get your food and get out.

Hey, Sickness said.

"What?"

Isn't that your friend?

Oh, God. Had Tenna followed her?

She turned around to tell Tenna off, but froze. No Tenna, but there was another man in the aisle, one that was skinny, dressed in black and her back turned to her. His hair was dark blue and spiky, shaved to it only grew out of the top of his head. His skin was an unhealthy shade of tan. It was tan skin that hadn't been out in the sun for a while. She looked down. The man was wearing long, black boots with a cloven, steel point.

Oh, God. There was only one person she knew that had boots like that, only one person who Sickness called "your friend" with such an amused tone of voice. Oh, God, please don't let it be him. Let it be another person who has the same boots. Let Sickness be wrong. Please, God, please.

The other man had felt Devi's eyes on him and he turned around with his eyes narrowed to yell at her. He realized who she was and his mouth hung open, his eyes widened.

"Devi?" he said, his normally thorny and dangerous voice riddled with surprise as confusion.

God sucks.

"J-Johnny?" she stuttered.

Real eloquent, Sickness giggled. Why don't you ask him out on another date for old time's sake?

Johnny blinked as if he had heard Sickness's voice. He stared at Devi, trying to analyze her looks after the last time he saw her.

"You… changed your hair," he said whimsically.

That triggered something in Devi's mind.

"Fuck! Get away from me!" she screamed. She threw her basket full of food at Johnny and ran.

As she made her way through the aisles she heard how the bottles of soda broke when they hit the store's linoleum floor. She heard the bags of chips crunch under Johnny's boots as he stepped on them and the metal roll of the cheese can when he kicked it away. She heard the steel tips of his boots against the floor as he ran after her and his voice, breaking and desperate and sharp as a knife, calling her name. She heard someone in the store request for cleanup on Aisle 14.

"Devi, wait!" Johnny called.

Devi ran faster, pushed rudely past other shoppers as she made she way to the doors. Sickness screeching laughter rang in her head.

"Please! Stop running from me!"

She stopped and pushed a tower of carefully stacked, heavy boxes right in front of Johnny's path. He screeched to a halt and swore loudly as he narrowly evaded the falling objects. Devi bolted through the exit, get into her car and drove away.

Tenna wasn't camping out at her door like she said she was. With an attention span like hers, she probably decided that throwing firecrackers into a heart-care ward was far more interesting.

Devi slammed the door behind her and locked and chained the several locks that bolted her door shut. She ran through the house locking windows and pulling down blinds. She looked at all the spaces where Johnny could be hiding: closets, under her tables, in her paint cabinets…

A little paranoid, aren't we? Sickness snickered as Devi double-checked her home's impenetrability. He's probably harmless.

"Harmless!" Devi almost screamed. "You're calling him harmless! He tried to kill me! He's insane!"

Must have slipped my mind.

Calm down, Devi. He's not here. You checked everything. You know he's not here. thing. You know he's not here. You even checked under the fucking bed! Calm down, calm down.

The phone rang.

"Gaah!" Devi shrieked as the noise penetrated her quiet apartment.

She cursed and picked up the phone, but didn't say anything. She was afraid to. Please don't let it be Johnny.

"You ran away from me again!" The voice was childish and female and she could hear other people bustling and yelling in the background. "Why are you being so quiet? I'm at the coooolest videogame store right now." Squeek!

"Tenna. Thank God," Devi said.

"You sound scared. Want me to come over?"

"No. No, I think I'll feel a lot safer if nobody comes near my doors or window," Devi answered as she peeked through her blinds. She squeaked when she saw a black shape moving quickly in the darkness, but it was only the exaggerated shadow of a dog. "Jesus…"

"Oh-kaaaay? Well, it doesn't matter because I really don't want to leave the store right now. They're selling Hearts of Doom and the copies are starting to run out. Hold on a sec." Tenna yelled at someone and hit him with her Spooky toy. "Are you sure you don't want me to come over?" she asked again, voice laced with concern.

"No. You just get back to your videogame."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Devi hissed.

"Hey, jackass! That's my game!" And Tenna hung up.

Devi sighed and set the phone down. With the aim of ridding herself of her stress, she went to her drawing room. Paranoia was sometimes a good tool to dredge up inspiration and right now she was as paranoid as she could get. She replaced the canvas she had been using before and splattered angry streaks on a new one's pale surface, breathing heavily, heart thudding in her ribcage.

She hadn't been painting for a long time before her phone ran again. She picked it up and smudged paint on the plastic. She had forgotten about Johnny for the moment.

"Hello? Tenna?"

"Devi?"

Devi froze, the phone almost slipping from her grasp. The thorny voice, desperate and breaking, that cut like a knife.

"Oh, God."

"Devi? Why did you run away from me? I had no intention of hurting you this time."

Yes, Devi. How rude of you.

"Well I'm sorry if I ran away from the guy who tried to kill me!" Devi shrieked into the phone.

"You still remember…" Johnny said weakly.

"Fuck yeah, I remember! I'd have to get a lobotomy before I could forget one of the most fucking awful nights of my entire life!" Johnny winced on the other side of the line. Devi breaths came out heavy and raspy and she spit when she talked or, more accurately, yelled. "It was such a nice night, Nny. You were one of the best guys I ever dated. Hell! I even considered going out with you a second time when we were on the cliff. But then you tried to kill me! What the fuck was going through your head when you did that? What the fuck was that?"

"It was meant to be beautiful. Eternal."

"Oh, yeah, Johnny! Beautiful. Fucking beautiful. Not for me because I'd be fucking dead, you presumptuous, conceited, insane prick! I'd sure be enjoying myself! What kind of twisted logic does your brain follow?"

You're being quite rude to him. He only tried to kill you. Nothing serious.

"I already apologized for that, Devi. It wasn't really my idea. I was… scared."

She snorted derisively. "Well, that's an acceptable excuse."

"See! This is why I did it!" Johnny yelled. "I knew this would happen! I knew this shit would come after. We were so perfect, so much better than the world. Everything was beautiful and perfect and I knew it couldn't last. I knew you would start hating me, one way or another. I wish I had succeeded in killing you. We'd be happier."

Devi's grip on the phone became to tight that her fingers were becoming bloodless and numb. "I don't need you to be happy."

They were both quiet for a long moment, Devi catching her breath and Johnny on the other side thinking and examining all they had said.

"I heard her," Johnny said.

"Heard who?"

"Her. The voice in your head. I heard her when you were in the store. Did I infect you? Do you need help?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Johnny? How do you know about Sickness?"

Hang up now.

"Her… Sickness… she's like the doughboys and Reverend Meat. I can hear them. Squee has one, too."

Devi didn't know who Squee was, but she felt bad for him. She hoped that Johnny wasn't hurting him.

"I can help you," Johnny said.

"I don't need help. Even if I needed it, you wouldn't be able to."

"I know what she is."

"And I know, too! I know what she is and I beat her! I scared her! I ripped out her eyes and stabbed her body! I won, Johnny. I helped myself. If anyone needs help, it's you."

"I…" Johnny said, faltering, in denial. "I don't… I'm not controlled by them."

"Who are you trying to kid, Johnny? You are what Sickness said I would be if I went along with her. You are an unhappy killing machine with a drained brain."

"I…" Johnny sniffed on the other end of the line. Was he crying? "I… help… please… help me… I-I don't want to be like this."

They have taken too much. A job well done. Wish I could have done that.

Be quiet, Devi hissed at Sickness.

"I can't help you, Johnny."

"What? Why?" the maniac cried, growing hysterical. "You got rid of your problem. WHY CAN'T YOU HELP ME?"

Devi's eyes narrowed and she said in a slow voice, "They've taken too much. I can't help you. You'd try to kill me again."

Devi heard something solid hitting the ground, Johnny's knees falling to the floor.

"I would," he admitted in a soft, sad voice. "Devi?"

"Yeah?"

"Had I not tried to kill you, would you have gone out with me again?"

Johnny's voice was so hopeful, like she would go out with him after their conversation on the phone ended.

"Yes, I would have," Devi said. "But in reality, you tried to kill me."

"I know. Go out with me again? We can start anew. I can hold back. Please, Devi."

Devi sighed. "No, you can't, Johnny. Your voices ruined you. You wouldn't be able to hold back even if you wanted to."

"I… yes…" Johnny was quiet. "I'm sorry. I'm truly, awfully sorry for what I did. I'm sorry I didn't kill you. I'm sorry I tried. If I hadn't tried, maybe I'd be okay. I loved you. God, I loved you so much. I'm sorry it was me who ruined everything."

"Johnny…"

"It wasn't meant to be me. It was so… It doesn't matter anymore. Now it's all gone. I'll never be able to fix what I broke." Johnny sighed. "It was nice talking to you again, even if you yelled at me. I was worried about you."

"It was… nice talking to you, too."

"Don't lie," Johnny said with an edge to his voice. He took a deep breath. "I'm glad you're okay."

"I'm sorry you're not," Devi said lamely.

"I'll be fine. I… I have to go. I have things to do. I have to think. I'm glad we talked. I'll try not to call you again. I have to let you be happy. …bye."

Devi kept the phone in her hand and walked to the blinds, checking once again that he wasn't outside. Johnny could be unpredictable. Nobody outside. She set the phone down and sat on her couch with her face in her hands.

Well, he certainly is pathetic.

"Sickness, be quiet," Devi growled, her words muffled by her hands. "I don't need any of your noise right now."

He was, though.

Devi ran a hand through her hair and got up.

Hey, where are you going?

"Johnny could never stop the things inside of him. The doughboys or reverend something or whatever he said just picked away at his mind, drained him of what made him something better than anything else. That's why you pick us, don't you? Because we are better." Sickness said nothing. Devi sneered. "You can infect the minds of people lesser people than us, football fans, infomercial audiences, ice cream men, but you pick people like Johnny and me. I don't know about Johnny previously, but before the knife attack he showed a pretty high rating of intelligence, of mental transition and that's why you pick us. There's more to take."

Devi walked into the room and picked up some of the many paint tubes strewn across the floor.

"Like I said, I don't know of Johnny's previous condition. Maybe he was handicapped in a way so he couldn't defend himself against you. Maybe he was too impressionable, so easily swayed by your smooth talking."

Maybe you just got lucky, Sickness said venomously.

Devi played with the brush in her hands, eyes focused forwards on her painting. "Perhaps. I don't know. All I know is I know how to keep you at bay. I know what you do, how you do it and how I can stop it.

"I am going to paint now and you are going to deal with it. I will not be Johnny. I will keep my sanity. I will stay every bit as me as I was before you came. Try as you might, you will not win. If Johnny's call did anything for me, it motivated me to be less like him. I am the fucking winner, Sickness, and there's nothing you can do about it."

When Tenna returned from her brave battle at the Videogame store, she had a copy of Hearts of Doom clutched to her chest. She ran up the stairs to Devi's apartment and knocked on the door.

Devi answered and, much to Tenna's surprise, she looked satisfied, happy. She even had a small smile on her face. Devi brought her in to show her a painting she had just finished, a painting of a crying man with flesh and metal tentacles sticking going into his head. The man's eyes were big and clouded with frustration and his teeth were clenched in agony.

"I think I'll call it The Doomed End of Self-Control," Devi said. She paused for a second. "Too long. I'll have to think of a better title."

"I like it," Tenna said. Squeek! "Spooky likes it, too."

Tenna asked Devi if she wanted to play Hearts of Doom. Devi smiled, put up her hair in purple pigtails and said she'd enjoy that.

End

I think there were points in the story (a.k.a. during the phone call) where Devi came off as a bitch. I think that's sad because Devi is one of my favourite characters, if not the favourite.

You know the drill: review. Please point out spelling mistakes and grammatical errors. You can make fun of me, but it'll probably just make me laugh. I'm haughty. Neener.

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