6-30-05

"Annie! Phone!"

Annette's eyes flew open. She bolted up, hit her head on the skull hanging from the ceiling, and fell out of bed. Her hair was sticking out everywhere, but she didn't worry about it yet. Shje yawned, wiped her eyes, and stumbled to the door.

"Mon Dieu, Nny, I'm coming..." she called sleepily. "Who the hell calls at this time of day? Zut alors, it must be seven AM. No one in their right mind gets up at this time on a friday."

Johnny was standing outside in the hall, looking irritated. He had obviously been sleeping as well, for he looked slightly more alert and the dark circles under his eyes were less pronounced. He handed her the phone and disappeared without a word.

"Allo?" murmured Annette, retreating back into her room.

"Annie? It's Ben."

"Hi, Ben. What are you calling me at this time in the morning for?"

"Uh, I've got bad news."

"You ran out of hair dye?"

"No. Annie, I'm serious. This is BAD."

"What happened?" Annette was instantly concerned. Ben hadn't even laughed at the hair dye comment. Whatever it was, it must really be horrid.

"Well, remember how I said we were going out to a club last night?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well...you know how Eric is...is into...excess?"

"Oui. Tell me what happened, mon amie. Is Eric in trouble?"

"Not exactly. I don't think you can call it trouble, Antoinette." Ben took a deep breath, choked, and blurted out "Eric is dead. He OD'd last night and the bastards at the club just left him in the gutter to DIE!"

Annette dropped the phone. Her legs felt weak, and she had to steady herself on the wall for a moment before she could bend to retrieve the phone. Hands shaking, she brought it up to her ear to catch the tail-end of Ben's sobs.

"B-Ben...I'm so sorry. Eric was a-a good child...he was like mon frère...Where are you?"

"I'm at Wolfgang's. Everybody's there except..."

She didn't have to finish. Tom had died a long time ago. Nobody knew it, but he'd been in a gang. One day he got into a fight with the wrong person and ended up with a pound of metal in his chest. It had been hard enough to lose him. Now Eric was gone, too...

"I'll be right over, mon amie. Goodbye."

Annette hung up, then wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She mustn't let this affect her. She had to be an insect, cold, emotionless, just like Nny had been. Don't think about it before reaching the others. The last thing they needed was her getting killed, too. She grabbed her trench coat and the keys and disappeared.

Nny had heard everything. The walls were not thick, and years of isolation had trained him to pick up even the slightest noise. Another one of Annie's friends had died. He had tried to explain that everyone would leave, that she could never become too attached to anything, but of course she hadn't listened. Being a young girl, she had let her heart open up to these misfits, and now they were slowly disappearing. It was her own fault, but it still pained him to see her suffer.

Silently, Johnny moved to the basement. He didn't much feel like killing anything today, but at the very least, it would take his mind off of things. He picked up a knife, feeling the sheer weight of it in his palm. Its polished blade glowed, reflecting the dim light back up into his eyes. He stared, eyes unfocused, and slowly brought the blade's edge to his wrist. The rough cloth of he sleeve gently parted, the steel slicing through it without a sound. He smiled at the sight of pale flesh, and he let the knife's own weight bring the knife down to rest against the skin.

It wasn't certain how long he stayed like that. It was long enough for the blade to release a thin river of crimson, but not long enough for it to spread on the ground. As it happened, a sudden sound jolted Johnny out of his dangerous reverie. He abruptly dropped the knife, clasping his bleeding wrist with his other hand. Breathing for the first time in what seemed like ages, he quickly bandaged the cut and left the room.

He shuddered and climbed the stairs to the main level of the house. What had happened, Johnny wasn't sure, but one thing was for certain: he couldn't stay down there while he was in this frame of mind.

"NNY! NNY!" Annette was screaming at the top of her lungs.

Johnny sprinted the last ten steps and threw open door. The strong-willed young woman he had come to know was suddenly small, fragile, and crumpled into a dark heap in a chair. He stopped, uncertain of what to do, but finally he went with is instinct.

"Stop crying. You'll ruin that eyeliner you're wearing."

Annette looked up at him, laughing hoarsely. She was going into hysterics. What was Johnny supposed to do NOW?

"Er...would you like something to drink? I-I think we still have some tea somewhere, if you'd like any."

"Second cupboard," choked the teenager, burying her head in her arms and cackling madly.

Johnny nervously edged around his daughter's shaking figure, keeping as close to the wall as the appliances would allow. Annette's almost incoherent direction proved correct, and Johnny soon had a kettle of water boiling on the stove. He finally poured the water into a cup and added the teabag. At a loss for what to do, he handed the cup to Annette and sat down to wait the whole thing out.

When it seemed like Annette was finally calming down and she had finished her cup of tea, Nny spoke.

"What club was it?"

"The Lair."

"I hate that club. Are you...okay?"

Annette took a deep, shuddering breath. "Yes." She looked up. "Kill them."

Johnny nodded, a frightening grin stitched across his face.

"Of course, Annie. I'll be out for awhile tonight. If anything happens, go to Devi's place..." He stood, then gingerly embraced his daughter. "I'm sorry you have to go through this again. I told you never to get attached. But I suppose it can't be helped. Take care of yourself, Annie."

Nny stopped by his room on his way out, or the space that served as a room. He picked up his CD player, checked to make sure Beethoven was in, and silently left the house.

"Hey, man, you gotta pay cover before midnight."

Johnny threw some money at the bouncer, not bothering to stop. He received some dirty looks from the club goers, but he restrained himself. No screwing this up, not when Annie was counting on him. He drifted through the club like a ghost, paying no attention to the people around him, and no one really noticed him either.

"Excuse me, Miss," he murmured to a pale-faced vampire behind the bar, "I heard that there were some guys here with meth. Could you point them out to me? I'm...looking for my friend. He said he was with them."

"I beseech thee, good sir," she rasped back, "why dost thou seek the stoners?"

"I told you. I'm looking for a friend."

"Well, if anything should badly come of this encounter, I wash my hands of all blame. They have taken up a temporary residence over yonder." She pointed to a small group of teenagers in a corner that was somehow darker than the rest of the near-pitch-black club.

"Merci, mademoiselle." Nny smiled, inclined his head, and made his way over to the stoners.

"Well, well, kids, good evening," he called, taking a seat right in the middle of the group. "How are things going? Got any good business today?"

"Hey, man, whatchoo doin here?" slurred one.

"Hey, guys, I think he's on sumtheen" giggled another, a girl.

"Watchoo want, man?" A third, obviously the leader, held out a small plastic bag of...something. "I got everything you need ta have a good time, man. How much money you got? I'll make you a good deal, see?"

"I'm actually inquiring as to the whereabouts of a friend." Johnny smiled gleefully, pulling down his headphones. "You see, my daughter's good friend-and I think you all know what I mean by that-" There was a small round of giggling from the stoners. "wandered in here last night. He was looking for a little something to pass the time. You, I believe, helped him out."

Then his face changed. His grin disappeared, and the maddening gleam of red that flashed in his eyes silenced any chatter that was taking place in the group before. Johnny reached into a pocket and pulled out a small pocket knife. Absentmindedly tossing it up and down, he continued.

"You left him to die. You killed him. I don't believe you realize just how many lives you've destroyed, stoners. How many people do you think you've affected just by that one death, hmm? I can name thirteen right off the top of my head."

The teenagers were looking uncomfortable. Their eyes flitted to the exits, but Johnny had them pinned with his steely glare.

"You kids need to learn a lesson. Disgusting things."

Suddenly, the pocket knife flew through the air. The leader looked down at the corkscrew that had grown out of his chest and slumped over. Johnny caught the other teenagers before they managed to make a run for it, and two knives carved their way through them with sinister ease. Johnny sprang up and sprinted through the now-panicking club, cackling insanely while Beethoven blared through his headphones.

Antoinette heard the door open and close somewhere around midnight. She sat up, got out of bed, and met her father in the hall.

"Did you kill them?" she asked, eyes glowing faintly crimson.

"Of course. Go to sleep, Annie. You've had a bad day."

Annette smiled and went back to her room. She didn't have to worry about Eric anymore. He could rest easy. Tomorrow she would tell the others the good news, but for now, she had to sleep. Dreams of carnage hated to be kept waiting.

Author's note: Ah, revenge. Terribly sorry for the delay in updating, but I've had my hands full the past couple months. Creating websites, studying for finals, being forced to spend time up north with my family... . Anyway, I do hope you've enjoyed this little look into the world of the world's most beloved massive headwound recipient.

-raven, your friendly neptunian psycho