Warning: There is murder in this chapter. I have a pretty twisted sense of humour at times and try to laugh things off, but yeah, Nny kills a guy...
This is another cute one too. Prepare your tear ducts for imminent release (Invader Zim reference).
Molly was a true anomaly. There she was hugging him like he was the only thing in the world that could save her, and she left Nny completely dumbfounded.
He had no idea what to make of her confession. She knew he was bad and that he hurt people, yet she still wanted to be friends with him. He'd normally baulk at such stupidity. Someone so foolish deserved to die horribly, but he'd meant what he said.
Nny really wouldn't hurt her. Even if he needed blood to feed some hypothetical monster inside a wall, he'd keep on looking and find someone else.
He never did hurt Squee either, even though that kid had been shit scared of him. Nny always saw the fear in the young boy's eyes, yet he still sought out his company regardless (plus, he really needed the disinfectant that one time). It was a one-sided friendship for sure, but Nny had still liked Squee and was more than happy to look out for him.
But Molly liked Nny back. She wasn't sensible like Squee, and the poor, gullible thing. She truly was a hopeless case.
A shame she couldn't have befriended a cute little fairy or something. No, instead, she got stuck with Nny, and what a cruel fucking irony.
Fate really was a bitch.
Someone somewhere had a twisted sense of humour...
But he wouldn't deny that he was secretly grateful. Hadn't Nny always wanted friends? Ones who accepted him for what he was? He had done some ugly, ghoulish things, yet Molly was still more than happy to hug him.
She was far too innocent, but her gesture had touched him greatly, and Nny hated being touched. Ironic.
Shit. He was treading along a path of self-destruction again. Sooner or later, she may just hurt him like all the others. Their blossoming friendship was but a faint prelude to some future pain, and if Nny succumbed, he may never rise again.
He still desired coldness. Nny would become the optimal being one day, one who could function without the need for desire.
But when she'd wrapped her tiny arms around him the other night, begging him to stay, his icy exterior cracked. He'd split right down the middle, and just like that, she'd melted away the frost that had formed inside his soul for the last few years.
Warmth soon replaced the ice, and he'd never felt so lost and terrified. How a small girl could scare someone like Nny was anyone's guess, yet Molly did.
After all, someone so small and fragile could easily be killed. How many fuckers in this world would jump at the chance of hurting a sweet little thing like her?
Creepy, childless fuckers who hung around playgrounds, predating on tiny children who knew no better, and something strange came over Nny. It burnt up his spine like fire until his whole body was ablaze.
His heart pumped fast as the blood rushed through his skull, making him see the colour red.
If anyone so much as put a hand on that cute kid, well... Nny would kill them (nothing new). Nny had always thought about putting his inane bloodlust to better use. He'd always gone after those who'd wronged him personally, but not people who'd wronged society as a whole.
He'd once saved Squee from what could have been a traumatic experience, but that had just been a case of being in the wrong place at the right time.
Nny could be like a secret superhero of some kind, working from the shadows while the police did their thing (His hero name: Noodle Boy). A vigilante, so to speak, but then he wouldn't be killing for himself anymore. He'd be acting on some higher power's orders, and he was no one's tool.
His days of being a tool were long gone.
But for Molly, he'd do it. He'd feed the balls of her predator to a pack of wild dogs. Then he'd cut his diaphragm open and make him eat his own organs, back and forth, over and over. He'd be shitting his organs, and then eating his shit, and the horror would just go on and on and on until he died a slow, painful death.
God, just the thought of her ever being hurt was too much, so much so he couldn't take pleasure in the things that used to bring him joy.
Like his current victim, for example—some jock punk from a local college football team. Nny had no idea what college; there was too many this day and age.
Nny never saw the appeal in a degree. A piece of paper did not dictate one's intelligence. He may or may not have considered studying art once, but there was no one in the world who could teach a unique mind like Nny's. His artistic flare could not be shoved into a box, rebranded, and then whittled down to appeal to the most common denominator, but that's beside the point. His creative medium was in blood and gore these days, anyway (and ugly stick figure men). He'd ditched the paint and paintbrushes a long time ago in favour of knives.
So... fuck a college education.
"Please... I didn't mean to laugh at you, I was kidding. You... you don't look like a fag. Just... just don't fuck up my face, man. I'm nothing without my handsome face!"
Nny scowled up at the whiny man on the table. The maniac was crouched in the far corner of the room, sharpening a blade with a stone, and really, was this how the stain chose to spend his last moments? Crying about his goddamn face?
So pathetic.
"Please, I need my face! I have a photoshoot tomorrow. I'm... a model... a male model..."
Nny gritted his teeth. "Oh, my apologies, Mr. Male Model, sir. Don't worry. I'll only fuck you up from the neck down. I will spare your face in favour of your photoshoot tomorrow."
The man actually sighed in relief. Nny could just chop off his head right now, but so long as his face remained intact, he didn't care. It would make for a scary photoshoot, though, his decapitated head just sitting there all gory-like...
He'd be a handsome decapitated head, so no worries.
Beautiful men really were stupid. Thank God they were a dime a dozen—thank God most men were ugly bastards, like Nny. Nny had dealt with many beautiful women in his basement. They were all the same, but good-looking men took their stupidity to the next level.
This one had a spray-on tan and bleach-blond highlights, and how revolting. He could be in a boy band.
They were all the rage right now, anyway, with it being the 90s...
Nny sighed, climbing to his feet, and the man whimpered the moment he stalked closer.
His grotesquely handsome visage made Nny sick to his stomach. Cleft chin, square jawline, and full, sculptured lips, but as he promised, he would not mess up his face.
The neck-down only.
"Please, I... I need my face," he repeated, sounding like a broken record. "My life will be over if you cut up my face!"
Nny raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you an athlete? You'd still have your strong body, even if I did decide to wear your face as a Halloween mask next fall, anyway. Now that would really scare the kids..."
The man spluttered like a pansy, and seriously, Nny was the fag? God, how he hated that word...
"I... I can't be ugly! Life would become meaningless if I were ugly!"
Nny shrugged. "It could work if your soul wasn't so rotten. But unfortunately, no man or woman would ever love you for you. Only your looks. How pitiful. I should put you of your misery..."
The man whined something unintelligible, and was he trying to make Nny laugh? He had to do this the right way.
Swinging his blade around, he lopped off the man's head before he could sputter any more words, and his skull came clean off. It was a quick death in the end, but as Nny promised, he would not touch his face.
Sure, his head may not be attached to his body anymore, but if Nny could send his head to the studio where his photoshoot would be taking place, then he could live up to his end of the deal.
He just didn't know the address. Sigh.
Well, Nny could always add to his 'mask' collection.
He deposited the blade inside the dead man's chest, then ascended the stairs to the upper level.
The man's ghost should be moving on to the next plane right about now. Nny sometimes wished he could see the moment the soul left the body, but he was no clairvoyant.
He always wondered if their souls were as dirty and flawed as the lives they'd lived.
Nny arrived at the top level, casting his eyes out the window. Cloud. Thank God. Nny hated clear nights.
The stars couldn't taunt him when it was cloudy.
What should he do? Watch TV? Play a game of Twitcher? Or should he draw some new panels of Happy Noodle Boy? The homeless insane were getting restless, sending him death threats now if he didn't hurry up and finish the latest issue of their favourite stick figure.
Feck...
Wait, feck? Was Nny cursing like an old Irishman now? He'd never even been to Ireland. He didn't even like leprechauns or Lucky Charms (because the chewy marshmallow bits always got stuck in his tooth cavity).
He remembered then once his neighbours started screaming again, and he sucked in air through his teeth, twitching his left eye.
Of course. That was how the lovely Irish lady cursed her husband next door.
Molly's parents were at it again.
All they did was argue, and Nny was having it up to here. At least Squee's mom had been too drugged up to give a damn, but Molly's mother wouldn't stop. She was a loose cannon. Once she started, that was it.
Vases smashed, and Nny had half a mind to go over there and shut them up. The whole street could hear them (aliens could hear them).
"I'm moving back to Ireland and taking Molly with me! Feck you, Al. You can go and drink yourself into an early grave, what do I care!"
Nny's pulse stuttered. Fuck. She was taking Molly away? Not his new little friend. It was as if the woman had stabbed him in the chest as he couldn't shake the thought of never seeing that kid again.
He had kept his distance the last few days as he needed to give himself headspace after their tea party, but now that the possibility of losing her had come up, he instantly regretted it.
Shit. He needed to see her right away.
"Don't you dare threaten to take my kid away, Liz! I will fight you in court if I have to!"
Another glass vase smashed, and Nny sighed, moving down to the basement. So much for drawing Happy Noodle Boy tonight.
He hadn't used the underground tunnel since the night he and Molly first met, but it was time to use it again.
He found it eventually, having to step around old skeletons and bones. Nny should really consider cleaning up some time, but he had a little girl to see.
The door to her basement loomed into view. He shoved it open and soon found himself beneath Molly's house. It was dark, but Nny could see perfectly since he had nocturnal vision, and now he climbed the stairs to her kitchen.
The happy couple were screaming in the living room, so he could easily slip through the house and reach Molly.
Carefully, he opened the basement door and stepped into Molly's kitchen. The screaming was even worse now since he was only a few feet away.
A woman was crying, and curiosity getting the better of him, he peered into the living room.
There they were, Molly's parents. Her mother rested her face in her hands, weeping so pitifully you wouldn't even think she had a child in the house.
She only wept for herself. No one else.
Her husband leaned against the mantel, a glass of whisky in his hand. It appeared he drank every night, according to Molly's mom.
How Nny loathed them at that moment. They were hardworking parents, sure, and it was clear they loved Molly equally (since it wasn't a competition), but they were selfish, thinking only of themselves.
No wonder Molly shivered when she hugged him the other night.
Did they have no idea how much their screaming was damaging her? How damaging it was for a child in general?
Nny flinched next as something flashed through his mind, a vague memory of sorts. He was staring through a gap of a door, and he was much shorter, much younger. There was a man with his hands wrapped around a woman's throat, but the images faded, and he quickly came back to himself.
What the hell was that?
"Do... do you enjoy making me miserable?"
Nny shook his head, focusing on the woman. A better question would be: "Do we enjoy making our child miserable?"
So self-absorbed. Nny had enough. So he slipped away, finding his way to Molly's room, but then he stopped short again.
They were eerily quiet, and for a moment he thought they spotted him.
But one more look into the living room confirmed they hadn't. The man of the house scowled down into his whisky, as if he would find the answer to his problems at the bottom of the glass.
Then he downed the drink, grabbed his car keys, then disappeared out the front door. He drove off in his car, driving under the influence, but what did Nny care.
Molly's dad may be a hazard to other road users tonight, but so long as Molly was safe from his shouting, so be it. And so long as he returned, too, then Nny would be satisfied.
He really wasn't in the mood to hunt him down tonight.
Only scumbags abandon their children...
Molly's mother collapsed onto the couch next, crying her heart out. Her sounds echoed through the house.
Such a sad, pitiful creature. Nny should put her out of her misery.
He finally left, and how sad. The couple had been so engrossed in each other, that they failed to notice the deranged serial killer in their house, making his way to their daughter's bedroom...
Thank God it was just Nny, though. If it had been any other mindless killing machine (since the city had its fair share), then Molly would be dead. They'd be dead, but Nny had standards to uphold after all.
He'd meant what he said; he would never hurt Molly, and that went for her parents, too. They were an extension of her, and he had to respect that. However, he had come close to killing Squee's parents plenty of times, but those two had been on a whole different level.
Nny soon found the small girl's bedroom door. Her name was written in pretty pink scrawl across a wooden slat, and she truly was a dainty thing. She even had flowers on her door, and there was nothing boyish about her whatsoever.
A true fairy princess. Normally, that would make Nny sick, yet Molly didn't. She couldn't help who she was any more than Nny could. He liked killing people, and she liked pretty pink dresses...
He opened the door, straining his eyes so he could see into the room. "Psst, Molly? You in here? It's NNY."
There came a soft whimper on the bed, and there he fixed his gaze on the lump beneath the sheets. At first, he panicked, but it was only Molly in the end and not some sheet monster.
She dragged the sheets away, and Nny almost lost his resolve when he took one look at her face.
Her eyes were red and swollen, and something died inside him the moment she cast her heartbroken gaze on him, spluttering unintelligibly from her lips.
"Hey, stop... No need to hurt yourself. Ah, fu—fudge!"
He kept doing that. Changing all his fucks to fudges when in her presence. He thought it was because of that stuck-up Mrs. Hoofington the other night. She had looked down her long nose at Nny, but was it because of Molly?
Was he not swearing for her benefit? It made no sense. Squee never seemed to have any problems with his cursing...
He moved to the bed, and the little girl latched on to him immediately, crying against his shirt. She wrapped her arms around him, holding on as if he was the only thing in the world who could save her.
Nny had no idea what to do. He just let her weep against him, covering him in snot, and despite the fact he hated all forms of bodily fluids, he never stopped her. He even patted her on the head.
Her cries were echoed by that of her mother's, and this was stupid. It should be her here instead, not Nny: the scary serial killer who lived next door...
So fucked up. But such was life.
The most he could do was let her blow her nose onto his shirt, and he should have brought tissues.
Her pitiful crying sounds hurt his aortic pump, and he wished he could tear it out of his chest and crush it. But then he'd bleed to death. It wasn't worth the risk.
For his own sake, he would leave his heart in his chest and bear the pain.
At least it wasn't his pain for once, which was a relief. But truth be told, that just made it worse. Nny could handle his own grief after all, but not someone else's. Not Molly's.
The ache in his chest was ten times worse than any he'd ever felt before, and Nny hated this. This was why he'd decided to cast off his emotions, yet it appeared he'd only made room for more.
Empathy was not something Nny had experienced much of before. He was a killer, so it went without saying. But now it seemed he was finally looking at the world through the eyes of another.
He'd spent so long being wrapped in his own thoughts, his own emotions, that the idea of experiencing someone else's just never occurred to him. Nny was a naturally selfish being. All humans were since it was an old, primitive trait vital for survival, but empathy was one of those newer emotions.
Modern humans exhibited altruistic traits (well, only the good ones), and it appeared Nny had finally become one of them.
Fuck. When did that happen?
He gazed down at the small, crying child and sighed, plopping down onto the bed beside her. Now she cried against his shoulder.
Of course. It happened around the time he met Molly.
She was changing him, and he wasn't sure whether he liked the changes yet. He'd spent most of this young child's life trying to eradicate his emotions, but they only came back to bite him in the ass again.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. Three years ago, he swore to become as cold as the moon, but life always had a way of kicking you in the balls.
You never quite get what you want.
"N-NNY... I'm... I'm scared..."
He blinked down at her. "Why? There's nothing to be scared of."
She lifted her head next and gazed straight into his eyes, baring her entire soul for him. He faltered. Her eyes looked even bluer when she cried. As if they weren't ridiculously blue already.
There was so much light in this child, whereas there was only darkness in Nny, and she truly was his opposite.
Nny's eyes no longer shined anymore. They just looked like a pair of lifeless spheres these days.
"I'm scared that my Mommy and Daddy will leave each other, leave me..."
His face twisted at the sound of her fragile voice, and he resisted the urge to wrap his arms around her and press her crying face to his chest, but he wasn't a fan of warm hugs.
Also, he liked being cold.
"They won't leave you. Despite their differences, they seem to care about you a lot, Molly. Squee... the little boy who used to live here... his parents didn't care about him one bit. I overheard his dad telling him once."
Molly's eyes widened. "That's awful. Poor Squee."
"It was. But don't worry. I knocked his dad out with a toy robot in the end. I don't think he ever recovered."
The girl scrunched her eyebrows together.
Nny continued. "I'll be frank with you, Molly. The world can be an ugly place. Especially to a sensitive soul like you. I've never been sensitive, yet I still hurt easily, and look at what I became in the end. Just promise me that whatever happens, you won't lose that light. You're too kind for this underserving world, so don't let it change you..."
A choking silence followed after his speech, but Nny meant every word. He didn't want her to change and become as rotten as the rest of the world—as rotten as him. Many people change themselves just to fit in with society, losing sight of who they truly are until one day they decay like the cavity in Nny's tooth.
But every so often, a rare gem like Molly came along, and he wouldn't be surprised if a star had been shining over the hospital the day she was born.
If Nny had met more people like her, then he probably wouldn't have become such a homicidal guy. He may even be painting instead of drawing insane noodle men for the homeless.
She smiled feebly, wiping her eyes. "Thank you for being here, NNY. I didn't want to be alone."
He watched her for a few moments, raking his gaze over her face. She really was tiny and vulnerable, and it wrenched on his gut.
This cruel world would eat her up, but he got the sense she was stronger than she looked. She definitely had some inner strength.
She may be secretly resilient, but right now she needed someone to hold her and tell her that everything would be all right, that she wasn't so alone and people loved her.
Nny, unfortunately, wasn't fit for that role. The most he could do was just be there for her. So he held up her chin and said, "Come on now. Stop crying and smile. Not all is lost... yet..."
Slowly, a smile spread across her face, and Nny tried his damn hardest to fight off the warmth that invaded his chest.
She had one hell of a cute smile.
Precious.
Finally, he returned her grin, and it was one that reached his cheeks. Nny made a silent pledge to himself then to make sure that cute face of hers never stopped smiling.
The world may eat her up, but so long as Nny was around, he'd kill any fucker who tried to hurt her.
Nny has someone to protect now, and he is developing new emotions. Empathy is not as common as you would think, you know... It's a pretty rare trait to have, and not everyone has it. Sigh...
But I digress.
I know what you're thinking: Nny should adopt Molly and be her new parent because her parents suck! But I have to disagree. That man could have never provided for a child, period. The comics were dark and full of satire (and the satire has aged like fine wine, might I add, unlike other forms of media from the 90s - Jhonen really was ahead of his time), but Nny could hardly look after himself. At most, he could offer Molly support and be her morale, like some goofy big brother perhaps, but he couldn't be her sole guardian. I find it funny when fans say, "Nny should have adopted Squee!" because I disagree because of all the above.
Squee's parents were awful though, so I get it. But he wouldn't have been any better off with Nny. He may have been loved, perhaps, since I think Nny is capable of love and compassion deep down, but he would have still been in danger for obvious reasons.
Poor Molly though. Her parents do care about her, and they're only human too, but still... I just wanted to hug her.
See you next upload. I get very philosophical at times, sorry.