( Author's Notes: Wow. I'm surprised at the response I got from the previous chapter. Glad to know that I'm not the only one who thinks this needed to be done. : You might've been thinking "Why did you do a preppy Sue first? Goth/punk/tortured poet/other misunderstood subculture Sues are much more abundant in the Jhonen fandom." Well, yes, but I had to get the preppy Sue out of the way first. I had to interact with girls who weren't much different than the girl in the first chapter. Yes. Really. Try "leaving-your-purse-open-and-exposing-a-box-of-tampons-at-school" stupid. But now that I have released my school-year anger (rawr) through writing, we are prepared to take on the real Johnny-Sues. If you're a South Park fan, like I am, you'll most likely enjoy this chapter, provided you've seen the newer episodes. )
Johnny slowed to a stop as he approached the 24/7's parking lot. He pulled into a parking space directly in front of the door, and noticed the sign. "Oh…handicapped spot. Damn." Not bothering to turn around and check behind him, he shifted his car into reverse and drove straight backwards, miraculously not running over and/or damaging anything. Ahhh…that Brain Freezy is sounding good right about now, Johnny thought, his tongue working its way out the corner of his mouth as he shut off the ignition. He reached to open the door, and suddenly noticed his bloodstained hands; he had not bothered to clean himself up after his experience with his "new neighbor."
Better fix that. Opening the glove compartment, Johnny coughed as a cloud of dust emanated from the box and into his face. I know there's a Wet Wipey in here somewhere…oh, wait, there it is. Johnny ripped the small foil package and pulled out the moist towelette, wiping some of the dried blood from his hands. Well, it's a little better. He tossed the trash into the backseat and closed the glove compartment, anxious to get some slushy brain-freezing goodness. While normally the machines were shut off at 2 a.m., the 24/7 management had recently decided to leave the machines open, well…24/7, after a recent incident that involved the murder of a cashier. The murderer was never found, strangely enough.
The automatic doors slid open, admitting Johnny into the brightly lit store. The clock on the wall read 3 a.m., yet insomniacs were still roaming the aisles, mostly buying cigarettes to satisfy their late-night nicotine cravings. In the corner, Johnny noticed a couple of stoned teenagers staring at their reflection in a roll of aluminum foil. "It's like a living mirror!" one said in a dull, flat voice.
Ignoring the nocturnal pests, Johnny made his way towards the Brain Freezy machine towards the back of the store. When he reached his destination, he noticed that he was not alone.
A tall, strange-looking girl stood at the machine, filling her X-Tra Large cup full of Cherry Doom Freezy. She had choppy black hair with an occasional streak of blood-red, which eerily matched her plaid pleated skirt. She had on a pair of combat boots, which laced up to mid-calf, and a pair of dirty, torn white knee socks peeked out from above the boots—the only thing on the outfit that didn't look new. Although he only had a back view of the girl, Johnny could see that she had on a rather tight black t-shirt, and upon closer inspection, he caught a glimpse of a Hot Topic price tag, still attached to the shirt label. A black messenger bag, covered with band patches, was slung over her left shoulder.
Her cup now filled, she turned to grab a straw, and now faced Johnny straight on. He could now see that her wrists were laden with black and red snap bracelets, a spiked cuff rested on her right wrist, and a studded dog collar was around her neck. Her shirt bore a red anarchy symbol, and her complexion was very pale. The only thing that stood out from all the red and black was her eyes, which were bright, piercing blue. They unnerved Johnny slightly as he made his way around the girl, who watched him prepare his own Cherry Freezy. She reminded him of the fad-conscious teenyboppers that hung around the mall on weekends.
He had just snapped the lid onto his cup when he heard a voice from behind him: "What's your name?" Slowly looking over his shoulder, Johnny noticed that the girl was still there, staring at him as she sipped her Brain Freezy nonchalantly.
"Uh…Johnny," he said, giving her a strange look.
Her eyes seemed to drill a hole in his skull. "I'm Raven."
"…that's great. Well, I'd better be going now, so…bye?" Johnny began to slowly make his way from Raven, disturbed slightly. Her voice was dull and apathetic, a vast opposite from the perky girl he had slaughtered just earlier. It was no less frightening, so he hurriedly paid for his Brain Freezy and walked out of the store, anxious to get to his car and back home.
He had no sooner shut the door and turned to find his keys when he heard the same flat voice: "Where are you going?"
Whirling around, Johnny came face-to-face with Raven again, standing next to his car, still sipping her Brain Freezy. Her dull, blank expression had a hint of mild curiosity.
"Home," replied Johnny, raising an eyebrow in confusion. "Why? What the hell do you want?"
"I don't have a home. My parents oppressed me so much. My life is full of woe."
Oh, Jesus. "I'm…sure it is." He reached over into the passenger seat and began rummaging around in the pile of junk. Keys, keys, where are the goddamn keys?!
She nodded. "They don't approve of the way I dress. They don't give me money when the latest shipment of Good Charlotte and Simple Plan CDs comes in at Hot Topic. They refused to let me paint my entire room black. They tell me to stop cutting. They tell me to be more feminine, to be like all of those other conformists."
Smiling weakly, Johnny continued to feel through the junk. Where the hell...there! Yes! Escape! "That's great…look, I really have to go, but if you want to meet up again and let me impale you with an iron stick, that'd be great." He shoved the keys into the ignition and sped away with tires squealing. In his rearview mirror, Johnny could see her staring after him as he sped away.
That was a close one, he thought, taking a sip of his almost-forgotten Brain Freezy. That is the most heinous thing a person can unleash upon this Earth. Note to self—torture weapons for on the go. Which reminds me…I really should go and try to clean up that carcass in the bedroom. Eurgh.
Reaching the (almost) quaint little neighborhood where he lived, Johnny slowed to a stop in front of his barren, unkempt house and got out of his car. Brain Freezy in hand, he made his way up the walk and opened the door, which he never bothered to lock. Suddenly...a voice came from behind him.
"Why did you leave me there, alone?"
Splat. The frozen slush splattered all over the floor as Johnny spun around again, expecting to meet his new "friend." "How the fuck did you find out where I live?!" However, Raven was not behind him like he thought. "Where are you?"
"Here." The voice came from behind him. Slowly, warily, he looked over his shoulder.
She stood in the middle of his living room, her heavily-eyelined eyes contorted in woe. "I followed your sadness. I could sense it. You have 'that look', that look that shows you've been in a terrible life. You look like you hate so much. How could you leave such a kindred spirit behind?"
Johnny narrowed his eyes. This situation seemed eerily familiar. Who was this, that dumbfuck Jimmy with estrogen? "It was really quite easy, and I'll gladly do it again. Get the hell out of my house."
"But I ca-a-a-an't!" wailed Raven. "You and I are so alike! It's uncanny!"
Commence fist-clenching. "What's uncanny is your ability to piss me off without even trying."
Raven didn't seem to have heard his last remark. She began wandering throughout the room, gesturing about. "Your house represents my life—dark, dreary, with little to no substance! Really, you and I could get along so well! I should come visit you more often so we can share our stories of woe together."
Not if I can help it. I'm so glad you're wandering near the basement. Please, go closer.
"Like just recently, I wanted to leave the house at two in the morning and visit the graveyard, so I could catch up on my poetry, but my conformist dad said no. Stupid bastard, doesn't he see that—aaack!"
Johnny lowered his foot, watching her tumble down the stairs. She landed at the bottom in a heap of red and black…some of the red seeping from her body. Stupid bint, she should've known better than to keep her back turned to him. "What a shame."
Moaning, Raven began to sit up, rubbing her lower back. Her clothes scuffed and dirty, patches of blue beginning to appear beneath the thick coat of black eyeliner, she turned to face Johnny. "Why did you…" Her words trailed off into whimpers as she noticed him descending the stairs, a look of deep contempt on his face. Hurriedly, she began to back herself into a corner. "Don't…hurt me…please…"
"Why?" Johnny asked, in a voice thick with mock concern. "Don't want to know what real pain feels like?" He grabbed a knife from the floor, crusty with dried blood. "Tell you what; I'll go easy on you. Dirty instruments dull the pain, especially on your first time."
Whimpering louder, the cornered Raven hurriedly stood up. Never had she expected to be in such a situation—she was only trying to find a mutual friend! Pushing Johnny out of the way, she attempted to make a run for her life, and made a beeline for the staircase. She had almost made it when she heard a swishing sound, and collapsed unexpectedly. Looking down, she noticed the knife was stuck in her ankle, and she cried out in agony. "Why?!"
Looming above her, Johnny couldn't help but smile as she clutched her leg in pain. "Oh, I'm sorry, Nancy, was the pain too much for your happy little world? I thought you'd enjoy this, seeing as how you seem to enjoy cutting yourself." Observing idly, he reached to the side and grabbed another knife from the table, this time clean. "But you see, there's such a thing called life"—he stabbed her in the right arm—"and it has a little friend called pain! Not your stupid, fucked up angst-ridden pain, but real pain! Shit that really hurts! Shit you can't ignore by calling 'conformity!'"
Squeezing her eyes shut, Raven cried out—a desperate wish to be anywhere, anywhere but here, slowly bleeding to death. She had never imagined death to be this way. Either it came like a shadow and silently carried you away, or it took others in a violent rampage along with you. At least, that was what all her poetry books told her, and they were never wrong! "No…"
This was probably the most fun he'd had all night. Smiling, Johnny bent down and removed the spiky bracelet from her wrist, now soaked in blood. "Y'know, I think we can have a little fun with this too," he said. "Let's be creative in watching you go." Whistling, he wrapped it around the bottom of his hammer, still caked with blood and brains from the last basement adventure. "Odd, really. You're in the same exact position as my last admirer. Maybe you'll meet up—JohnnyCon in Hell sounds like fun."
The last thing Raven ever saw, her tear-brimmed eyes wide with fear, was Johnny's wicked smile and her seven dollar spiked cuff bracelet zooming towards her face.
Johnny climbed the stairs, shutting the blood-spattered basement door behind him. He peered out the window, noticing that the dark-blue sky was now tinged with pink along the horizon. A night well done, I'd say, he thought, whistling happily as he made his way into the kitchen, now ready for a healthy, nutritious breakfast. Nothing better to start the day.