It had been a long night.
There were stars out too, but they were all hollow and glaring.
The house seemed quiet.
Edgar's apartment was on the third floor of the building, and Johnny had two heavy bags to carry in, filled with things he had forgotten that he even possessed.
Bag number one had some of his clothes and his thread and needle box, as well as an assortment of different fabrics and markers to make his apparel. Being so thin demanded that he sew his own wears, and nearly everything he owned had been adjusted or drawn on to suit his needs.
Bag number two -this bag was the important one, and also the heaviest.
While scrounging around his home, Johnny had taken the time to explore it's many levels, the darkness of the house was oddly unsettling this time around, and no longer welcomed him with the sanctity that it used to hold. The house was angry at him, and did not permit a single floorboard to be stepped on without emitting an awful squeak.
Strangely enough, even the structure and arrangement of rooms had lost some of their familiarity. The homicidal boy found himself looping around different rooms more than once, until he finally came across his room.
Not a bedroom. Johnny didn't have a bedroom. He didn't need one. This room was for his personal use, kept away from his victims and other possible intruders. Like the rest of the house, Johnny did not furnish this room, nor did he style or decorate any aspect of anything in the building -everything looked essentially the same, but his room seemed special. A lamp, an armchair, a desk, and a mini t.v, which he later stapled bunny ears onto, were the only items of significance, the rest was just broken and old.
There were lots of memories here. This room was like an iron safe for the time spent in this house, some of what Johnny could remember no longer seemed as humorous as they did a few days ago; in fact, they made him a little embarrassed and uncomfortable. Perhaps he was just maturing beyond his "killer" phase of life, Johnny pondered and nodded his head thoughtfully. Inside of himself, there was no longer an innate desire to kill or harm anyone. The corpses and human life that painted his home no longer pleased him and, in fact, made him cringe. It was strange to think that he had actually done all of this, especially since Edgar would be very upset about.
Hmm... Edgar. I wonder what he's up to right now?
Suddenly, Johnny no longer wanted to be in that room, or in his old home. Each blood stain on the wall, every body part and person that was pinned and bound in different rooms, and even Nailbunny reminded him of this - this which he did not want to be a part of, this which Edgar would detest and abhor, but he could feel it closing in on him, suffocating his being and coaxing him to stay, whispers of death chilling his skin in the breezes let in by the draft. The house was trying to suck him inside and the walls were bending to form a cage to keep him from leaving. This was his home, and it made his heartbeat race. The pulsating throbbing rang in his ears as if he were inside of a iron bell, making him unbearably nauseous. pushing him, begging him to leave and never come back, so he left the room and ran.
The hallways narrowed more and more as he ran through them, creeping up to his sides and almost touching his arms, the walls had already begun to meet at the top and it had become to crowded to see which way was which. Paintings and cracks on the plaster around him zoomed by. His heart thumped. Sweat dripped down in beads. He didn't know where to go. It was so quiet, so lonely. Left, right. Where were his voices?
His flesh burned and scraped against the sides of the walls, cold blood trickling down his arms, forcing him to slow down. He just needed to find the main entrance, but with every turn the boy made, it seemed as though the house expanded, dooming him to run forever. He ran up stairwells and into different rooms, each coated in someone's blood and a horror-shop of gore and torture items, their dripping ceilings whipping past his head before squeezing himself into the next hallway.
How long had he been running for? Was he even on the right floor?
Would he ever make it out?
For once, Johnny felt very afraid. It coursed through his body as his lungs gave way to fatigue and strain. It shook his knees and caused his hands to tremble. The more he panicked the faster the walls enveloped him and the house began to loudly heave and groan with the effort, practically laughing at its doomed servant until it crushed him into stillness. Nny struggled to break free from the building's grip, but to no avail. The pressure was too much, making him feel light headed, the world getting blurry and dark.
Why...
This wasn't supposed to happen.
Edgar...
Edgar was supposed to make everything better.
"...F...Fuck!" The wheezy curse was not enough to hold back the pain in Johnny's throat, and he tensed up as much as he could in attempts to reclaim his tears. He didn't want to die today.
"Well why not, my boy?" The voice was uninviting, but familiar, and calmed Johnny with his usual stoic demeanor. How strange that the messenger of death could be so welcomed at a time like this.
"Any other day would be fine for you to die, but not today? What's happened to you, Nny? You used to be soo good," devious mockery coating every syllable. The doughboy that Johnny had gotten to know particularly well, only using him for its own ends, finally appears in all the sadistic glory that the boy remembered; and yet, there was a hidden inclination to respond, possibly from years of obedience.
"'Why not today?' is a very excellent question," the boy huffed out, trying his hardest not to let the crushing pressure ruin the seriousness of his tone. He wouldn't let that thing know how hard this was for him, though he longed for some room to readjust position, or at least let the oxygen flow back to his head, for he was getting quite dizzy.
"D-Boy, you've known me for quite some time, and I, in turn, have come to realize that you are not me." The doughboy, somehow unfazed by the current wall structure, remained floating in silence.
"I have seen many places and people that have made me sick, that have made me angry and frustrated and lose hope for this world, and you have encouraged me, with great persistence, to end this miserable and violent life of mine." An eerie smile creeps over the plastic figurine's face.
"Yes, Yes! You should-"
"BUT!" Nny interrupted, "It would seem that an influence even greater than yours has occupied my mind, which may explain why I don't hear you very often nowadays."
"What are you saying?" The threatening undertone went unheeded, and Johnny continued, smirking at the opportunity to rant.
"All this time, I've been wondering why none of these things that I do ever causes me great happiness: all these things YOU and Mr. Eff make me do. I was miserable, because no amount of murder or Ice-Suckies could change the fact that there is something horrible disturbing me, and, even though I may not be able to over-come my vices, and I probably won't even overcome you or the others completely, I think I'll be able to move forward."
Blood rushes in to soothe the bruised and strained limbs from their bound state as the walls slowly release their prisoner, the fog from his head starting to clear with his vision. Breathing has never felt so good.
"You are this parasite, trying to take what isn't yours, trying to feed off of someone else: me! You are weak, and, without me, you could have never existed. I will not die for you, and I will not paint that wall!"
"YOU THINK THAT JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE IN LOVE YOU CAN JUST LEAVE!"
The hall opens up and become shorter with the ends begin to shooting towards the center, the exit quickly gets larger and freedom becomes clear.
"I don't know if I'm in love, D-Boy," Johnny laughs silently at his confession, "but I think I care about this man, and if his purpose is to make me happy, I don't want to take that away from him..."
A few steps forward, and the newly freed stands in the middle of the main entrance room, a giant staircase to his left with rooms on either side, and the front door to his right. A deep breath puffs his chest before slowly being pushed out. While taking this opportunity to stretch his arms, the boy notices two bags sitting at the bottom of the stairs.
The house, now more silent than ever, bellows out the echo of footsteps as Johnny approaches the items. His fingertips gently smooth over a small book on top of one of the bags.
My Diary...
He grabs the item with both hands, examining the worn edges and reflecting on all the time spent scribbling down various melodrama to appease his mind. There were no obscenely fond memories in here, yet he felt a very special connection with it, and was reluctant to leave it here.
I suppose I should bring it.
The book shot out of Johnny's arms and smacked against the floor. It blasted out a beam of darkness towards Nny, and sent a doughboy along with it. The boy was horrified as the face of D-Boy got larger and closer to his at an alarming speed, before going right through him. The feeling sent tremors of pain and disgust into Johnny's lithe form, causing him to curl over in pain, nearly falling over onto the floor.
"You may be able to leave this house, Johnny, but in the end I WILL get what I want!" D-Boy screamed in a ghostly manner from within Johnny.
"You will kill Edgar, and then you will no longer have reason to stay alive! AHAHAHAHAHAHAA!"
The noise faded away with the laughter, leaving Johnny frightened and ill, unable to stop himself from sobbing while he knelt on the floor.
The rain proved to be a huge nuisance when trying to get to Edgar's house. Not only did Johnny have to carry TWO bags of stuff out, but he had to do this while trying to push his legs through streets filled of water. The rain was coming down so fast that he briefly wondered if he would drown if he breathed too much. Unwilling to go through so much effort, Johnny opted for taking the bus.
It was difficult. The bus drone was smiley and waiting, and it was so cold. Everything was getting static-ey and loud, what was the kid looking at! What would the bus driver look like with his innards torn out of him?
"You could do it so easily too."
He shook the thoughts out of his head. There's no way he was going to break now.
Taking a seat... waiting, raining, waiting, goobey kids. They get off, new ones get on. Ugly, disgusting people!
I want to die.
The bus keeps rolling so fast, just like Nny's life. It's moving and it won't stop for him, not even for a rest, for a breath. Why is it so hard not to kill that old lady!
"As soon as you see Edgar, I'm going to go all out~" D-Boy chirped maliciously. He was looking forward to this far too much for Johnny's liking.
"Don't worry, I won't let that happen." A few passengers looked over at the boy with concern, but quickly diverted their attention elsewhere. They knew that there was something different about him.
"See how they turn away, boy?" The voice chuckled out, almost playfully.
"Even THEY know who you truly are! -And once I get out-"
"Get out?" Johnny inquired.
"Oh... Just remember to kill Edgar!" D-Boy spewed out in frustration, and began to recede in Nny's head to hide out.
The passengers all looked in opposite directions from the boy, some whispering to one another, failing miserable at discretion.
At the last stop, conveniently located just across from Edgar's building, Johnny stepped out from the warmth of the bus and was immediately drenched by the rain, again. He hauled the bags through the main doors and went to dial Edgar so he could get in, but stopped.
What..?
The keyboard was obviously damaged. Wires and chunks of plastic splayed away from the broken circuitry, most likely from a knife, Nny noted, and the more he thought about it, the less fascinated he was. This was strange, because why would this not be fascinating? Something very bizarre is right in front of him, yet Johnny isn't musing about whether or not Edgar may have done this, but is actually...
... Is Edgar okay!
Why? Why this would have anything to do with Edgar was beyond Johnny at this point, but he panicked and hyperventilated nonetheless, until he reasoned to himself that no one in their right minds would ever pick a fight with Edgar, and that everything was fine. No one wanted to kill Edgar.
Except for D-Boy...
The door was difficult to open, the mechanics inside gave a reluctant buzz, but gave way with enough force. Johnny couldn't help but notice the puddles of water on the floor as he walked towards the elevator, but locked his gaze onto the gold framing around the elevator buttons, trying to rid himself of his sickeningly paranoid thoughts.
Inside the elevator was nothing but mirrors and buttons. It was awkward, staring at himself all around. He was watching himself watching the glowing "3", watching himself watch himself from the corner of his eye. He began to fill dizzy.
The doors opened with a melodic ting, which seemed to make everything more frightening, for some reason.
Just look for room 313, room 313, room 313...
Johnny had started a light jog without realizing it, and sloshed water around from his shoes and bags with every step. The squelch of water was uncomfortable and the boy's lips had started to turn purple, but he was too focused to noticed.
308, 309, 310...
So close, his heart was pounding.
311...312...
313.
The door was unlocked.
Johnny slowly stepped inside and quietly shut and locked the door behind him. His eyes stung from being opened so wide. He felt his blood get cold, as if the rain had only just started to affect him.
The sitting room was a mess, and the contents of the fridge were tossed all over the kitchen floor, but all Nny could notice was that the sofa was carved up, and Edgar's flowers had smashed along with their vase.
His blood wasn't just cold now, it was ice.
He wanted to do something! Rip his hair, scream, stomp, throw a fit! How could someone do this to Edgar! Edgar didn't deserve this!
Goddamnit!
He was about to call out for Edgar, but then he caught sound of something, a fast tapping. It sounded almost like the rain, but not quite...
Johnny bolted for the bathroom and tried to open it, but it was locked.
Like hell you're gonna get Edgar.
Johnny pulled out a knife from one of his bags and slashed away at the lock until it relinquished with a small click. No time was wasted in pulling the door back and, at first, Johnny didn't see anything except for and empty shower, but then he looked down.
A knife. Edgar was bleeding. He was badly beaten.
The knife plummeted down and hit Edgar's shoulder. Nny froze as the man screamed out in pain.
Edgar.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I meant to get your heart!" The boy cackled out with glee. Johnny's vision was getting red from this fucker.
What did he do to deserve this?
What the FUCK DOES THAT KID THINK HE'S DOING!
The knife raised up a second time/
"Johnny, just let this happen. It's for the -"
FUCK YOU! YOU'RE ALWAYS TELLING ME WHAT TO DO, BUT NOW IS THE TIME TO SHUT THE FUCK UP! WE'RE KILLING THIS SON OF A BITCH, AND THEN YOU'RE GONNA GET THE FUCK OUT!
Before any rebuttal could be made, Johnny had his own knife ready and planted it deep into the boy's back with one brutal motion, dragging it through the flesh with intense hatred, causing blood to spew out onto his face. The blade ripped out of the assailant's body as it hit the floor, letting out a quiet "ugh".
Johnny stomped over to the front of his face to get a look at who the fuck was responsible for doing all this.
"...fffuck..." Blood and drool slurred out along with the curse and pooled around the young man's face, who was just starting to close his eyes.
How could that bastard think about resting now?
"You goddamn son of a bitch!" Johnny screeched out venomously, "Go fuck with Satan when you go to hell!" and with that, slammed his knife down directly into the other boy's skull, feeling it split through the bone and hit right into the brain. The body spasmed and twitched before the knife was viciously twisted and torn inside of its head, causing the movement to stop completely while sending bodily matter flying all over the room.
After taking a moment to breath, Johnny went through the medicine cabinet and pulled out some gauze to patch up the passed out Edgar, and then went to clean up the sitting room, feeling much better with the intruder done with, and the D-Boy out of his system.
Hello all, I have returned, you see.
School has decided to give me ONE DAY to not suffer,
and I use it to update this story!
Isn't Nny a sweety? Cleaning up after Jimmy?
I didn't write the part about Jimmy breaking everything
'cause that happened while Edgar was in the shower, so he didn't hear it.
I would like to remind you to check out the poll I have on my profile,
and if not, just tell me via comments:
"Should Jimmy get his own story about him and his brother, should I just put random chapters in Trust, or just leave it?"
Tell me cause I'd like to know~
And now, TO SLEEP!