I don't own Teen Titans! I don't own the Dead Kennedys! I don't own anything and I'm not makeing any money off of this! Back, lawers!
This is my first fanfic, so it may suck.
::Ahem::
Never Alone
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Lightning cracked across the dark sky. A wide field, devoid of grass, was lit up. Over it five teenagers, dressed in white soaked rags, ran. They were not the Teen Titans. Just five scared people running. Running for that horror that they had lived through and they could not live through again. At the end of the feild was a small drop, leading to a ditch that began the woods. One slid down and yelled at the others to follow. In the ditch they lay, as the helicoptor hovered over the landscape, zipping about on it's four rotors. The light of the Helecoptor passed over them, as they lay low and tried not to breathe. The shadows cast by the thick foliage saved them from detection. The helecoptor passed over them.
The Lover:It's safe now.
They all got up and began to breathe. The sounds of night were all around them.
They had names once, but they did not use them anymore. Now they were known by new labels.
The Lover. Damien. Doctor. Case 9276. Dispair. This was all that they were known by. 2 boys and three girls. All escapes from the mental institution.
The Lover had long straight hazel hair, meticulously combed, and a sweet inocent face, withought the slightest hint of fear.
In this last aspect she was alone among them. It was only because she was a Psycopath. They do not quite feel fear, or remorse. Like she had felt none when she had killed her boy freind. And her other Boy freind. And her other Boy freind. All after haveing sex with them, all with a lacey valintine where their heart had been.
Damien was a rather disturbed looking boy with long blonde uncombed ragged hair, developeing into what looked like a mix between dreadlocks and tentacles. Under his eyes were huge and dark circles, obviously created from lack of sleep and not makeup. He had Schizophrenia, which is not acctually multiple personalities, but only a disorder where one see's, hears, belives, and feels things that others don't. He rocked back and forth laughing hystericly as he cried.
Doctor had a black mohawk that was growing back in, and had nothing to keep it standing straight, therefore it was against her head at all angles, soaked with rain.
And blood.
Obsesive compulsive disorder. First disected a pig, i science class, then became obsesed with the idea of disection. Of everything. People. Objects. Everything. Always washing her hands as she had after disecting the pig, feeling dirty for the imaginary disection of those around her.
Case 9276 had red hair, of about mid length, and beutiful eyes. Her mother used to tell her night and day how wonderful her eyes were. The eyes now turned red intermitently, her fingers sometimes becomeing claws. She was called Case 9276 because she had so many different names, and it was better to just call her by the case number asigned by the mental institution. She had multiple personality disorder. One personality a horrible monster. On a little girl. And what she was now.
Dispair was a fair skinned boy, who had rarely seen the sun and didn't want to. His hair was black and stuck out at odd angles. A rip in his sleave reveiled his arm.
It was covered in cuts. His DISPAIR was carved most deeply into his arm, in new cuts.
He suffered from depression. Had attempted suicide some 30 times, more than half in the mental institution. His entire life had been self-loathing and sadness. He picked at the cust in his arm with is sharpened fingernail.
They had just been a bunch of crazies. Untill the new drug had been tried out on them. It has not fixed their conditions, on the contrary, their conditions were more then just insanity.
They had power.
Doctor had not meant to kill anyone. But she had. The thought of disection now manifested violently. In an instant, 10 people had their somachs slit open and their guts spread about. She cried more that day over the deaths of those she had killed than she had ever cried before.
Many were killed that had been her freinds without her even meaning to.
Dispair could now show others the hopelessness of it all. And every time he cut himself, a bolt of destructive energy would spring forth. He had killed five security guards getting out.
The Lover gained more than pleasure from killing. A single insect ripped apart and she had torn through the cell, and killed everything in her path, gaining power all the way.
Case 9276's many personalities now manifested physicly. She could turn into the little girl. She culd turn into the monster.
Ad she did. She didn't remember what she had done. She didn't want to.
Damien could make others see and hear what he could. And more. It was finnally proven the theory that schizos see other universes. And now what he saw could come into this universe. An army of horrors from beyond everything known had come through into the insane asylum.
The staff was killed by what they had been trying to convince him was only in his mind.
Damien responded to The Lover.
Damien: Are you sure it's safe is it ever safe they'll be looking for us now we can never escape even with what we have we can never beat them their everywhere everywhere they have guns like you've never seen oh god oh god oh god.
The Lover grabed hold of him.
The Lover: Were safe. The chopper is gone now. Shut up.
Damien: They could have foot troops-
He was cut off.
Dispair: They aren't an army. They have more important matters to attend to. We aren't the world to them. They have a million bank robbers to attend to. Were just a bunch of crazies in the woods. The only Important one is the Lover. And the only dangerous one.
Case 9276:Well I'd say were pretty damn important! We did alot back there, and their not likely to forget it.
The doctor was still crying with guilt, a heap on the ground.
Doctor: Oh god. I did it. All this time and it happens. Oh god.
Dispair huged her, her head against his cheast as she cried.
Dispair: It's ok. You didn't mean to. You didn't mean to.
But he was crying too. Everyone was crying except The Lover.
Damien heard something. Something he had heard many times before. He new what they were. They were what he had fear for all his life. And they were comeing. He had only not let them lose on the mental institution because he had not wanted to, but it seems they had invaded without him letting them in.
Damien: Their comeing.
Case 9276 turned to him.
Case 9276: Whats comeing?
Damien: The faceless horrors.
Case 9276: What are they?
Damien: Monsters of a most horrible kind horrible creatures of the night that rip and tear and kill because not only do they kill but they are killing they are the murder in the night they are the psyco killer under your bed from the horror movie you wish you hadn't seen but is to late to remove from your mind who you know will kill you and rip your guts to shreads, they are more than creatures of the darkness they are the darkness, mearly looking at them can kill you, they are death. And They.
Hissing, erupting from everywhere in the woods.
Damien: Are comeing.
Doctor: Oh god..........will it ever stop...........The death.....
They thought back to earlier day. A lifetime of carnage and death, all inflicted by them. They can never take it back. Like so much. So much. Like the razor blade. Like the butchers knife. like the gun. Like so much in their lives they've done. Mostly what got the placed in Never Alone. A horrible place of nurses who beat ou and tie you down. A place of no freedom. A place where they don't trust you and you don't trust anyone else. A hell on earth, if earth it'self isn't just hell, and nothing else. They had experienced ridicule of course, they had experienced shunning, and they had experienced the hatred of others. For what they are. For them it was just like racism or homophobia or sexism, except that they were always haunted by the idea that prehaps it was all true.
Doctor had stoped crying and was now lyeing hopeless in the mud while Damien tied futiley to make a fire, as the sounds of some indescribeible horror edged closer and closer, a voice like a thousand peoples death screams. Eventually a fire managed to be made thanks to the use of some old leaves from beneith a large pine tree that blocked the rain, as well as some matches swiped from a guard along with his walet by the Lover. Soon they had a small blaze going, and some moss made good beds. Many bunched next to the fire as their clothing had been ripped nearly to the point of nudity while they had been escapeing. They talked through the night, and Damien stayed up tending the fire. Ocassionaly they spoke.
Doctor: Where will we be able to stay?
The Lover: Well, we can't stay at anyones house, were on the news. We would be caught by the police, and even if we could conquer them, which we might, we would have to deal with the millitary after killing that many people.
Doctor: So where?
There was silence for some unknown number of minuets.
Despair: I have an idea.
Doctor: Yes?
Despair:You know those hero teenagers, the Titans? They live on an island, makeing it seperated. And if the millitary tries to attack, we'll have perfect hostages. The city would be lost without them.
Doctor: But what about theTitans theselves?
Despair: I think we should be able to handle them.
That night Despair dreamt. He was cutting again. The razor tore into his arm, and he felt the glorious flow of blood, coming from his arm. Trickleing down his skin. The pain, the blood, the razor is like a beutiful woman, and he's haveing sex with her.
Then it turns into that old nightmare.
"Let me look at your arm."
His parent, walking in on his sex, looking at an arm with long lines of shame and grief carved into it, loveing kisses she does not aprove of. He tries to explain, but she doesn't care. She becomes a horrible monster, like something in Damiens head, one of his beasts, horrors, monsters, demons, whatever, Despairs mother becomes a beast, takeing away his darling and putting him in that place where he can't see her again. In a place where the light is grey and dull and floresent, and where shuffleing, suffering medicated feet are everywhere, a monsters lair. And that monster is both his mother and the head Nurse, who would always beat him. A damsel in distress, except he is in distress and the damsel saves him. That lovely lady of blood and razors. And they kiss, in a kiss of pain and self destruction.
He woke up from that old dream, mostly about the discovery, when his mom found out his awful secret, when she screamed at him and talked about how much of a failure he was, and sent him away. He knew the others must have a discovery story. But not like that. Not like that.
The next morning he asked Lover for the knife he knew she had taken from a guard and then used to kill. He cut more than he ever had before. He was back with his lovely lady. Life was good, if just for a moment.
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Please review, and if you have any ideas, I'd like them, because I have more chapters to fill. And only a few ideas.