A/N: song inspiration. I'll be your man by James Blunt.
This chapter may seem familiar...
NNY was on cloud nine with Jenny, yet he was afraid of waking up one day to find that she had been nothing but a dream.
A pleasant dream, but still...
Jenny couldn't be a figment of his imagination; she just couldn't be.
She had to be real. NNY had felt her breath on his face, and the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips.
The only thing he could think about doing lately was touching her, and it was driving him insane. Well, more insane.
If he didn't get his Jenny fix soon, then there was no telling what he would do. He may even go out and kill an entire bus of cheerleaders.
It was hard to control himself around her. Very, very hard. NNY had really been holding back with that knife, and now he salivated at the mouth when he thought about what he really would have done to her...
He was a deranged serial killer after all, and sometimes his brain couldn't tell the difference between sex and murder.
Sometimes the two blurred together, yet no matter what, he couldn't hurt her...
Not even a little.
Fuck. This was why it was so much easier when he was cold. His libido was one beast he was willing to never set free, no matter how good it made him feel. He had to keep that horny, homicidal bastard in chains at all times.
Jenny was a nice girl (sans the killing of people). So NNY couldn't mess this up.
Then again, if she truly was as murderous as she claimed to be, then maybe she wouldn't mind a more brutal fucking...
Maybe she would be the one to do some damage to NNY, and now his dick hardened at the thought of her tying him up while she fucked him with the pointy end of a knife.
That's where the real fun was.
The bloodier, the better...
No!
Knives were used for one thing and one thing only, and that was for killing people. And also for chopping vegetables, but that was beside the point.
Knives stay out of the bedroom.
Honestly, NNY didn't have to be fucking her to be happy. Just having her around was enough.
He was still baffled by the fact that she existed. The world had been so cruel to her, yet she still managed to be so kind.
NNY, on the other hand, was as bad as the very people he despised.
He didn't regret meeting her at all. Quite the contrary, actually. She managed to restore what little faith he had left in humanity, yet it was just hard.
He missed her. He knew it wasn't healthy to obsess over another living organism, but he just missed her pretty face and her angelic voice.
She truly was a work of art, and he swore he felt a little of his old spark whenever he gazed at her.
NNY hadn't drawn anything in years. Well, nothing substantial.
Happy Noodle Boy was not art. In fact, the stickman was a perfect representation of NNY's decreasing tolerance of mankind in general.
Most people were generic, shitty-looking stick figures with no discernible features. Instantly forgettable.
But Jenny was a beautiful mosaic of oils and pastels. Simply breath-taking.
She should be hung up in the Louvre.
NNY had to see her again. It had been two days since their last encounter, and he was worried that she had already forgotten about him.
Or maybe she finally came to her senses.
It was another 2 am after all, and the stars were out. He just couldn't sleep on such a beautiful night. So now he was left with all these unhealthy thoughts.
"Fuck..." he muttered. "What's wrong with me? I'm not myself anymore. It's like she's turning me into some lovesick idiot. I'm better than this."
No voice answered his musings, and it seemed he truly was alone tonight. So he gave a heavy sigh, reaching up to scratch his face. His sharp nails tore the flesh.
So call her then... or don't...
NNY growled, digging his nails in a little deeper.
He couldn't be bothered with the Reverend's bullshit. In fact, he had no idea what his deal was lately.
NNY had always assigned voices to different parts of himself. And the figurine represented his sensory connection to the outer world.
So, should he call Jenny? It was 2 am. She was a good girl who went to bed early and didn't stay up into the wee hours.
NNY would mess with her circadian rhythm if he decided to call her. He couldn't do that to her.
Having a regular sleeping pattern was a gift after all.
Yet he really needed to see her...
Yes... don't call her, Johnny. Don't wake her up from her blissful dreams... You're much better than that. You're not a slave to your body... you don't want to touch her, sniff her, or bathe in her tantalising scent... You just want to let her be...
NNY trembled as that stupid figurine made him think of her body. He had seen her naked now after all. He'd even joined her in the shower.
Also, he'd fucked her. Twice. The first time with his dick, and then the second with his knife and fingers.
NNY was completely unhinged when he was with her, and there was no telling what he would do the next time they met.
The way her body had wholly accepted his knife... It was as if she was made for him...
Maybe he should strap himself up to one of his funny contraceptions down in the basement again.
That ought to chase his hormones away.
No. NNY had to see her; he had to hear her soft voice and see her sweet smile again.
Slowly, his hand reached for his telephone, and then he started to dial her number. His reflection gazed back at him from inside the glass of a darkened window, and he looked like a zombie.
He had no control over his body anymore.
Yes... don't call her, Johnny... Be a good boy and let the nice girl sleep...
The phone started ringing, and she picked up on the second ring.
His heart hiccupped.
"H-hello?"
The sound of her soft, breathy voice left him tongue-tied, and now he lost the ability to speak. All he managed was a squeak, sounding just like his little neighbour boy next door.
"Hello? Who is it?"
NNY breathed down the phone like a weirdo, and what the hell was wrong with him? She would hate him forever now.
She probably had to get up early in the morning to open up her shop.
NNY was the worst kind of person.
"Wait... NNY? Is that you? Are you okay?"
He chewed his bottom lip, reaching his thumb across the phone's dial pad to hang up. This had been a huge mistake.
How the hell did she even know it was him? All he had to do was pant and squeak down the phone, and she recognised him instantly.
How sweet.
"NNY, say something... I'm worried."
Crap. He had to speak now. Fuck Reverend Meat and his reverse psychology bullshit!
"I-I'm fine, Jenny... you... don't need to worry about me. Go back to—"
"No. I'll come over. I won't be able to sleep now knowing that you called me. I just want to make sure you're okay."
Shit. She was going to come over? No! His house was a mess.
"No, Jenny, don't—!"
She hung up, and NNY rounded on the reverend. "Now look what you did. She's coming over... on a school night!"
The figurine smiled all creepy-like. I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't make you do anything, Johnny... I'm just a figment of your imagination...
The reverend laughed, and NNY threw his phone at him, watching as it shattered against the wall behind his stupid head.
Now he yanked his hair, stamping his feet.
No, no, this was bad.
He had to clean, yes, clean!
There was blood on his rug and Taco Smell wrappers all over the table.
Jenny couldn't see his house. Not like this. It was a shithole, and what about the basement? She couldn't see the basement or who was in the basement to be more specific.
NNY had called some friends over again...
"Fuck!"
He did some housekeeping next. He threw the rubbish in the trash, then rolled up his blood-stained rug. Then he covered another blood stain on his wall with one of his old portraits.
The blood got there by accident of course (NNY didn't feed walls anymore).
A cab pulled up outside, and NNY froze in his tracks. She was already here.
This was it. Jenny was going to see his house for the first time.
He hadn't had a girl over since Devi, and that was the last person he should be thinking about right now.
There came a knock on the door, and NNY prepared himself.
He could feign sickness again. But knowing Jenny, she would only want to take care of him until he was better.
She may even take time off work.
NNY couldn't do that to her. She had a life, and a shop to run.
He approached the door, smoothing his hair back as it stuck up all over the place.
Well, here goes nothing.
He forgot how to breathe the moment he opened the door. Why did he always forget how lovely she was?
That face could stop a war... or cause one.
He left a small gap in the door so she couldn't see into his house. Maybe she would decide to leave after seeing that he was okay after all.
NNY would pay for her cab fare home.
"Oh... Jenny... what a surprise..."
Those massive blue eyes of hers blinked, and once again they glistened like jewels.
The old NNY would have gouged her eyes out so he could pickle them in a jar and look at them always.
But he found that he preferred looking at Jenny's eyes when they were still attached to her pretty face.
It wasn't the same when there wasn't someone staring back at you from behind a jar of pickled eyes anyway.
The person to whom the eyes once belonged had long died anyway, so it went without saying...
Jenny's eyes shimmered once they took in the sight of him, and it was obvious she was happy to see him.
NNY closed the door further until only a sliver of his face remained.
"So, as you can see, I am perfectly fine. Nothing to worry about. You head back home now, Jenny. I'll just call you a cab, and I'll pay for both of your fares. Don't worry."
He went to shut the door, but she placed a gentle hand between the gap. "No... I don't want to leave. Truth be told... I couldn't sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about you..."
NNY's heart skipped a beat, and it was strange how her sentiment mirrored his exactly. He had been thinking about her too, and it was almost as if it was meant to be...
"Oh... that so...?"
"Yes. I... didn't want to be alone either. The... the spider on my bedroom wall doesn't talk back to me..."
NNY raised a brow. "Well... that's awfully rude of him."
She shrugged. "It's fine. I wouldn't want to talk to me either."
He studied her for a while, taking note of the sad slump of her shoulders, and how could he turn her away looking like that?
After all, she had come all the way to see him at 2 am. NNY should honor her kindness.
He sighed, opening the door so she could step inside. "All right. You can come inside. I'll make us tea."
Jenny took her first step into his abode, and her eyes widened when they took in the sight of his living room.
NNY cringed, waiting for the inevitable gasp of horror.
"Your home is so wonderful, NNY."
Wonderful?
Well, that was one word to describe it. His house was a complete dump.
Sometimes, she was just a little too nice, but he supposed that was better than her not being nice.
"Thanks. I decorated it myself..."
He laughed nervously.
Jenny stopped by his couch, pointing at his TV. "Your TV has bunny ears. So cute."
He scratched the back of his head. "Yeah... I... guess they kind of are..."
She peered at the portrait on his wall, gasping in delight. "Did you paint this?"
NNY glanced at the portrait. "I did. But it was a long time ago now."
Sadness laced his tone, and he had never felt so ashamed to be in her presence.
Maybe one day, he would get his groove back.
"It's... beautiful..."
He regarded the painting again. He guessed it kind of was. Well, in its own way.
It was a painting of some otherworldly beast with hundreds of eyes, a beast that once lived inside NNY's gruesome head.
Now he struggled to draw a stick man these days.
NNY stopped beside Jenny, and now they both gazed up at his painting.
She turned to him with a smile. "I never knew you were so talented, NNY. And you thought my paintings were good..."
He blinked at her in surprise. "They are."
Jenny shook her head. "They're pretty, and they make me feel good, but... I don't know. They're missing something..."
He moved closer as his curiosity got the better of him now. It seemed he was about to get a small glimpse into her mind...
"Missing what?"
Jenny blushed, casting her eyes on the floor. "I don't know. Real emotion, I suppose. It's like my paintings are just a cover-up of how I really feel inside. It must be nice to be able to take the demons from your mind and transport them onto a canvas. That way, they can never hurt you..."
NNY couldn't stop staring at her as she gazed at his painting sadly, and something came over him.
She really was a fragile thing, and there was still so much he didn't know about her.
She was guarded. Well, at least when it came to her past.
NNY almost laughed at the irony. If only she knew about his past. It may give her a reason to feel good about herself.
Jenny had killed someone at one point, and it intrigued him.
What would she look like with a bloodied knife in her hand? Beautiful, he bet, like some pink-haired angel...
As much as the image moved him, it also hurt him too. He couldn't stomach the idea of Jenny feeling the need to kill in the first place.
He knew she hadn't killed out of malice. Something must have prompted her. She must have had no choice.
Kill or be killed, as they say...
NNY just killed for the thrill of it these days, and he truly was twisted. He hoped Jenny wouldn't ask about his basement (and hopefully one of his friends wouldn't cry out ghoulishly for help).
He was desperate to know the names of the people who'd hurt her. That way, he could ensure that they never hurt her again.
What if she hadn't killed them all? What if they were still out there?
The blood flushed hot in his veins when he thought about those fuckers who hurt his precious little Jenny, and now he reached around for his knife.
It was the same instinct he felt when that Neanderthal tried to put his hand on her in the street.
Jenny knew he was a sick individual, yet she still wanted to come inside his house and look at his art.
She truly was something special.
NNY bowed his head, keeping his hand on his blade. "Jenny... I just want you to know... that I would kill anyone who so much as hurts you. I will slaughter every last one of your enemies if it makes you feel safe again. Just give me a name... and I will find them..."
His eyes flashed as he kept his fingers on the handles of his blades.
Jenny worried her bottom lip, shaking her head. "You... you can't..."
NNY stepped closer, and now he stood a full head taller. She really was a tiny thing; she barely reached his shoulders.
"I can and I will... I've slaughtered thousands... It makes no difference to me..."
She shut her eyes, and her whole body shivered. Then she whispered just loud enough for him to hear. "You... you can't... b-because... because I... I already killed them..."
Her confession hardly startled NNY. He'd already come to the conclusion that she'd murdered them.
Yet it took a lot to unnerve NNY these days. He'd seen a lot of ugly shit after all.
So what if she'd killed a few people? They probably deserved it.
NNY cocked his head. "Who were they...?"
She whimpered, reaching up to wipe a tear from her eye. "R-really bad people... They'd... been hurting me since I was little..."
NNY's mind came to a screeching halt. Since she was little? Those sick fucks! Now he was definitely going to kill them.
NNY maintained his cool, keeping his tone neutral. "How... how long has it been since you...?"
She squeezed her eyes, and she looked as if she was about to keel. "S-six months..."
NNY's eyes bugged. Six months? That was around the time the monster broke free of his wall.
Was there a connection between the two events? It was highly unlikely and probably just another coincidence.
Still... it was kind of spooky.
He knew he wasn't going to get more out of Jenny, so he let it be. Besides, she looked ready to pass out.
That confession must have drained her of energy.
NNY placed a tentative hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture, but he may have squeezed her a little too hard.
She didn't seem to mind, though. In fact, she leaned closer, placing her head against his chest as she finally passed out.
It surprised him how anyone would want to hurt her at all, being as small and fragile as she was.
She was built like a flower, ironically enough.
Well, it looked as if she was staying the night. She was already asleep, and it was funny how she could sleep so peacefully with the horrors going on just below her.
As much as he would love to stand there all night with her drooling on his favourite shirt, it wasn't practical.
Yet it's not like NNY had a proper bed for her. Just a plain old mattress on the floor with no sheets.
He could lay her down on the mattress and find her some blankets—ones that he hadn't used to roll up a dead body with.
NNY lifted her in his arm, carrying her into his bedroom bridal style, and she hardly weighed a thing.
He ignored his cracked mirror once he stepped inside, laying her down gently on the mattress.
She curled up instantly, and NNY watched her for some time, a fuzzy sensation growing inside his chest.
He wanted to lie down next to her, even though he didn't sleep.
He retrieved some blankets from his closet, throwing them over her so she wouldn't get cold, and now he settled down beside her, gripping his knife over his chest.
How else was he going to protect her?