Disclaimer: I do not own Jhonen Vasquez. Therefore, I do not own Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, Squee!, I Feel Sick, or any other thing he wrote ( or drew as the case may be). That would be nifty though… But I do own this story and its plot (Also I own the poem that's later in the chapter so don't steal that either). And your souls, I own those too.
This may be OOC but it's my creative right. Don't bitch at me.
By the way I usually write in first person so third is kinda new to me.
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Squee usually walked to school with his best friend Pepito, who also so happened to be the anti-Christ, but today he was careful to avoid Nny's house and any other living (or maybe even not living) thing. But at school Pepito did find Squee.
"Where were you earlier? I waited for you," The anti-Christ said.
"Well, I was running late so I… must have missed you," Squee replied not wanting his friend to know the person of his nightmares returned, at least not yet anyway.
'Oh God. He knows I'm lying to him,' Squee thought at Pepito's knowing stare.
But thankfully for Squee the bell rang releasing Squee from Pepito's gaze. The day went by quickly for Squee who was in a trance like state wondering if his old neighbour would remember him. Squee got home to an empty house, as was usual lately. He flopped down on his bed and felt the crunch of paper beneath him.
'Hmmm. Mommy and Daddy usually don't leave notes for me,' Squee thought rolling on his side to try and fish the note from underneath him. Squee tore open the envelope.
"Come and take a walk with me on the dark side of me mind. We'll open up these doors and see what we can find. Do the things here scare you? Don't worry yourself a bit. I'll be here to protect you but this trip you won't forget. Watch where you walk don't step on anyone. Open up your eyes and mind this just might be fun. I tend to see things clearly but from a different view. So read between the lines and you might learn something new." Squee continued, "Meet me in the parking lot of the 24/7 at midnight tonight. I'll be waiting." Squee was confused and had no idea of who it could be.
He thought, 'Well, at least I know it wasn't from Nny. It was poetic and Nny is not poetic in the least. He'd probably kill me, but he'd never write me poetry.' As the saying goes curiosity killed the cat… and maybe even the Squee too. And since this wasn't the first time this had happened and Squee was alive so far Squee decided to go.
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I want criticism. But flamers turn back now or I'll beat you with a bag of rabid monkeys! You do not like it, then do not read it. But do review. Maybe you'll even get chapters faster. Also I apologize if this is a little short. It's longer than the other chapters though…