Warning-----I have created an OC. His name is Juan. Also, I'm straying from the really old comics (the ones from middle/ high school) Jhonen had created and what not. Blarg..
I'm unsure whether to call this filler or not. It feels it but I'm not sure. I'm very tired.
Do you want more? I'm really sorry for this shit..
:p
:p
Johnny lingered over Squee's unconscious body. He wasn't quite sure what to do. It wasn't like the anti-Christ toad had given him instructions. His lips twisted, perplexing over the current situation. I guess I'll just take him home, he figured, as he stooped over to pick Todd up. No, that would involve touching him. His skin tingled irritatingly as he thought for other options.
He snatched up a fire poker and jabbed it into Todds shoulder. Todd stirred before rolling over, ignoring Nny and his peskiness. Squinting, Nny huffed upstairs and grabbed a sheet off someones bed. He stumbled back down the stairs, the sheet fluttering behind him. Trying to be gentle, he managed to wrap Todd into a tight little fabric burrito. He leaned back and surveyed his handy work. What do I do after I get him away, he mused. He didn't want to Squee-gee to follow behind him as Pepito had lain out. Johnny pictured Todd lost in a forest, trees created from body parts and hollowed screams echoing past the morbid apertures', his tiny feet drowning in the gory trail.
He shook the image out of his head and fell to the ground. His eyes landed on Todd and watched, mesmerized, as he breathed peacefully. The small boy, now a man of sorts, had trickles of drool trailing down his face. It mingled with the drying vomit of before. Todd was a disgusting angel. One of broken bones and sin only to be tainted by his own insanity his 'friend' was transferring to him. Guided by fear and uncertainty, Todd was falling into the familiar plan all too well.
No one is given a fair chance, Nny's tiny bits of reason reminded him. A rusted light bulb appeared above Johnny's head. The filament in it sparked slightly before it sputtered out. It would never work. Todd began to stir in his wrappings. The light bulb jumped back to life as Todd opened his round brown eyes. They widened as they saw Johnny so close and watching.
"Am I in trouble?" he muttered, struggling against his cloth bindings. Specks of dry chunks fell off his mouth and he gagged.
"Not anymore…" Johnny answered, a glimmer of a smile curling his lips.
Meanwhile…..
"Can we do anything to change this? I can't just sit in the sidelines and wait till he enters hell. This is highly unreasonable, father." Pepito scowled at the placid horned skull of Diablo. Fire erupted around the two, the damned souls squealing behind them. Diablo turned away from his son and surveyed his life's work. Todd was a key in keeping it full; how his son refused to see this without emotion wanted to anger him. It must be his mother's side, he thought as he toyed with his dagger-like chin. Her human empathy is hereditary after all.
"You fail to understand because you have grown too attached. I understand he is your friend, and I blame myself for allowing you to get so close to him. I wanted him to die in that 'hospital' to avoid you anymore hardships but the potato king in the sky offered me a better choice. 47 is getting older and won't last for much longer. My son, understand our business. You have to stop this care you hold for Todd." Diablo wanted to reason with him, wanted to smack some sense into him. Pepito was stubborn and a pain in the ass, but he was his only given son.
"You don't understand! How about if Mother were to be a Flusher? Huh, Old man?! Picture Mother dripping in blood and cowering at every creature that might inhabit her brains! I watched Johnny when I was younger to prepare myself for when Todd got older. I can't let that happen. Fuck you, Father. "Pepito yelled, steam rolling off him with each word of hatred.
Before Diablo reacted, Pepito poofed away in a fog of sulfur and smite. Shelled in a vortex of space and time, Pepito stewed in his anger. Kaleidoscopes engulfed him as he stifled tears. He had to talk to someone urgently, someone who might understand. Uncle Juan, he realized. He shifted his body to the right and mentally charted his course. Juan will understand.
Meanwhile….
Juan wandered endlessly in his kingdom. Whispers slipped between his ears, quiet voices of the not-quite damned. He ignored them as he drifted in the colourless world, lamenting his earthly pains. Odd for an angel to have pains, he thought. His cloven hoofs tip-taped the clouds, echoing against the silence of the void and quieting the voices that roamed in his head. They hushed as though there was a foreboding lingering in Purgatory.
No, he answered them. There was never a danger. No peace, no harm. Simple quiet. He turned towards the slate sky. The sky was brightening, a glow rounding its edges. A fire sphere was plummeting towards him. Its aura pulsated rapidly, its core calling out distress. We have a visitor, he told his prisoners.
The orb crashed, creating a dent in a cloud and scattering puffs into the air. A gust of spiritual winds blew the ash away. A soot covered young man began to twist from the wreckage and faltered at the end of the clouds, struggling to catch his balance against the holy turbulence. He looked vaguely familiar to Juan, though he could not place where. He was not dead, he noted. Horns curled around the youths head. He bore certain markings along his heart that set Juan onto destroy mode. The invader was a demon, blessed by Satan himself. Juan started to advance on the intruder, cautious and slowly. A certain power lingered in his fingertips, ready to strike the demon back to hell.
"Uncle Juan! What's up?" the young man called, waving over to him. Juan tilted his head and grinned. "Nephew, what brings you here? Where is your father? You aren't allowed in Purgatory until your training is complete." Juan exclaimed as he encircled his arms around his nephew. Pepito leaned into the man's chest. The angel embodied the meaning protection. He wanted to remain strong and stubborn but the tear streaks that lined his heart were ripping further apart.
"What is causing you pain, my nephew?" Juan asked as he ran his fingers in Pepitos hair, channeling one of his few remaining powers. Pepito absorbed the calming energy willingly and withdrew from his uncle's touch. "Juan, do you remember Flusher 47? You were his trainer, as I recall from the books." Pepito questioned as he turned to the empty sky to avoid Juan's eyes.
Juans face evaporated all previous joys and concerns as he fumed with past despairs. The void began to darken. He peeked inside his nephews mind and withdrew his recent memories.
He strode away from Pepito and knelt down. Waving his hand across one of the clouds, the creation parted and filled with a pool like mirror. He transferred the not-quite damned out of his head and into the mirror. Millions of desolate eyes pleaded up to him. He snapped his fingers and they began to wriggle, rippling and creating a new picture.
A street, lined with plain black houses, sat empty. He ran his finger down the street, zooming in closer on his target. The picture yawned and flexed as it tried to focus in. The souls were anxious and not behaving the way he needed them to. "Pepito, what has been restored to you?" He asked impatiently. Figures no one would visit him without something wrong. Brother Diablo, why do I have to clean up after you?
"Matter and Decision Manipulation, Strength and its Transfers, Calming and Travel. I may have travel revoked again though…" Pepito fiddled with his lower lip as he rethought this. Not many powers had been granted to him; his training was still lacking in a variety of areas. He sighed helplessly as he figured out what Juan was asking. He could not add or create his own soul of mirrors yet. Now they would have to travel to Earth again to remedy anything.
"Juan. You do remember him, don't you? Would you have changed anything? Were you happy with the way his Sickness was installed?" Pepito knew what he spoke was naïve, but he wanted to set off chords in Juan. The sky around them darkened more, the mirror pool bubbled and spilled over the rim. Juan stood, scowling at the memories that were rushing to his eyes. Streaks of blood, the sizzle of travelling energy, the way his shirt in had clung to him with cold sweat in as he guided Johnny in the night.
He closed his eyes and inhaled the forgotten scent of honeysuckle that a young Johnny, soon to be only #47, always held. When he was clean, when he was regarded as an innocent.
"Juan! Wait up!" A small teenager, tanned by the moonlight, weaved in and out of cars as he ran across the busy street. Juan jerked around startled at the carelessness of his pal. Nettles started to prick around his heart. Juan pressed his hand against his chest to ease some of the pain. Diablo pushed his glasses up further on his nose before he grimaced at Juan.
"You're not going to be much help if you keep this up. God and I have plans for your little friend. Caring for him will not matter in the end." Diablo told him placidly.
"Like you care for Gods wishes." Juan scoffed as he tugged his school bag more on his shoulder.
Diablo flicked his eyes over his brother Juan before smirking at the approaching Johnny.
"Just because you bear the wings of an angel, does not mean that is gods intended plan for you. I had them once too, remember?" Diablo said smugly as he turned to leave.
The year, 1991. Hell had been decreasing in population rapidly. Fallen angels had taken to earth to stir up trouble, offer the humans better temptations. They were failing somehow, even though the world was constantly racked with sin. Maybe it was because the death toll was decreasing. This created an anxious Satan who enjoyed newer and more evil souls to roast and was lacking both.
Juan had tagged along out of boredom from his ruling in Purgatory. He had not chosen a side during the revolt in heaven. He had merely sat on the sidelines and scribed the destruction, frozen as he watched angels and demons fall. God had granted him freewill and apathy, a strange choice for an angel. Then Hell was created and with that Purgatory. Being neutral wasn't an option and he had been cast out to rule over the lost souls.
Juan smiled broadly as Johnny, skirting cars with ease, made his way over to the sidewalk. Johnny was special, in a busted vase sort of way. He was created for the sole purpose to destroy. But it seems like something had gone wrong and he wasn't pure evil like his mold had cast. Instead, he possessed an ability not granted to many of the drones on Earth. He created art, paintings and sculptures that rivaled every emotion built into humans. They conveyed pain and care, meticulously smearing oils and birthing monsters and heavenly beings doomed to be trapped in canvas.
Juan admired him for this. He had seen many masters of the human and divine arts, but none like Johnny's. "Hola, Johnny! You seem excited today. What's happening?" Juan asked, slapping his pal playfully on the back.
"Full belly." Johnny wrapped his arm around Juan's shoulders as the two started down the street towards their school. Diablo wanted fresh bloods, so he started Juan off at high school where the minds were thwarted with hormones and looking for any hints of social acceptance. Juan was created and gave them options of good and evil, the stirrings of angelic manipulation still embedded in his bones.
"What happened? Pan Handle enough, you bum?" Juan joked half heartedly. Johnny's parental unit had abandoned the teen a couple years ago. He was 16 and scared, too frightened to call Child Protective Services. He managed to fall thru the cracks of the system, constantly overlooked by the authorities. Johnny sometimes slept in the streets or in rusted cars in overgrown parking lots. He knew the city well, it's streets mapped like concrete veins across his increasingly unstable brain.
A year had passed since then and he had taken to an old shack in suburbia, though he still haunted the streets and back alleys in search for food and spare dollars. He had begun to carry small canvas cutters in his long coat; they remained clean for the time being. "They're for just in case. I don't think I could ever really use one…." Johnny had explained to Juan late one night.
A ticking vibrated in Juans head. It was slow at sunrise and had quickened its pace as the day passed. They neared the school to be greeted with the sound of students chirping at each other. It was nothing but noise to Juan. He wanted to steal Johnny and escape back to Purgatory. These peoples were filled with pain and ignorance, coiled serpents inside their bodies ready to strike. Diablo just needed them to die. This mission is useless, Juan thought as he maneuvered thru the crowd.
"Hey, faga-tron! What the fuck's your prob?" A voice boomed behind them. Juan watched as Johnny turned green and cracked his head to the side to see who was speaking to him. "Go away, " Johnny whispered as the limbering jackass bounded towards them.
"I'm speaking to you, faggot-butt!" The large man-boy barked. He jerked Johnny around by his torn shirt and slammed him to the ground brutally. The wind was instantly knocked out of Johnny when he landed.
"Eddy, just leave him alone. Stop being such a dick, dude." Juan fussed as he picked Johnny off the ground.
"Nah, man. That little faggot's got problems." Eddy pursued Juan and the weakening Johnny. He squared his chest and bowled up to Juan at an attempt to menace the angel in disguise. Juan thought idly that the poor man resembled a baboon.
"And what's it to ya, Eddy? What do you have against me?" Johnny could only mutter pitifully to Juan's arm. Juan glanced back down at the trembling friend in his arms. He was forbidden to transfer anymore healings to Johnny. His sickness was being installed and healing prevented him from any necessary angst that was needed.
Eddy huffed away, seeing that Juan was going nowhere and stopping him from his fun torture times of the frail Johnny.
"I wanna go home." Johnny stated, his eyes flicking around for an escape route from Eddy and any of his cronies that might continue their harm.
"But home is nowhere." Juan reminded him. He regretted the words immediately.
Johnnys face washed pale with embarrassment. Sorrow filled, he turned to the sky and uttered something that would plague Juan.
"Home is with you Juan." He spoke to the sky, lost within his mind and the ramblings that were filling it.
Johnny snapped back to Earth and looked at Juan, scared, his blood chilly. He hadn't meant to say that. Juan would leave him. All he ever cared for always left him. He didn't want Juan to leave. No no no!
Johnny ran, invisible wings tied to his feet. 'It'll be easier if you leave first', a strange voice bumbled thru his skull. White lights sparkled across his vision as the voice persisted. 'Juan will never care for you back. No one will.' Johnny skated across the roadway again. I wanna go home, he fought the voice. It chuckled back, delighting it his sadness.
He rounded corners with accustomed precision. He turned right into an alley that was separated the city from the quiet residential section. He flung himself down the alley, splashing in the miscellaneous puddles. He raced to the end where a rusted chain link fence sat blocking the two. He started to scale it, digging his boots into the tiny diamond shaped holes as his fingers desperately
"Where you goin' faggot?" A voice he knew all too well taunted behind him. He froze from his scrambling, gripping the fence as tight as he could. Fuck, he cursed, as he tore up the fence.
Thick fingers twisted into Johnny's long coat and ripped him from the fence. Eddy tossed Johnny to the ground. He slung his muscle built legs around Johnny's narrow waist, straddling the struggling boy. Johnny squirmed as he tried to breathe. He was sandwiched between dirty concrete and crotch. He fought back, his long arms lashing out at his attacker, clawing at anything that resembled skin.
Flesh dug under his finger nails; something wet dripped on his face .Eddy had fresh deep scratches lining his rugged face, crimson oozing out. He growled and clutched Johnnys thrashing wrists. He lifted Johnny's arms above his head and dug them into the pavement. He ground Johnny's boney knuckles into the ground, relishing Johnny's squirming.
"You put up a good fight, fag. You're still gonna get what you know you want…." Eddy sneered as he lowered his face down to Johnny's. He stuck out his grotesque tongue and dragged it over Johnny's cheek. The fetid aperture began to worm over to his mouth. Blood spattered on Johnny, freaking him out even more. ' God, no', Johnny cringed in horror. 'Fight back!' the voice shouted. Johnny jerked forward, his teeth gnashing like a rabid animal.
"You know you want it, you wacky freak!" Eddy shouted, his free hand tightening into a fist. He slammed it into Johnny's gut before resuming his perverted activity. Air whooshed out of Nny immediately. He gagged struggling to get any back in, but the fat ass on top of him was smothering any chance of that. Eddy's freehand ventured across skin, skin Johnny would have rather never been touched. His body was ice, a cold sweat glistening on his frightened face.' Fight back you weakling!' the voice screamed, rocketing thru Johnny's senses.
Johnny's vision popped out. Blackness completed him.
Across town, Juan sat against a crumbling brick wall, his back pressed firmly into the corner. His head was buried in his hands as he recited what he was extracting from his friend. He wanted Johnny to lack the memories of the rape but not the damage it would cause. Johnny wouldn't know of the act, only the people who caused it, the pain that went with it. It was the least he could do.
The next night Juan resigned from Diablo's mission. He drifted back to Purgatory, resenting the fact that he had helped in the destruction of a heavenly artist. He resented more the fact that he deserted a friend, one who needed him.
:p
:p
Go ahead and hate me. I know there is no Juan in the bible and please don't preach any theology to me. This is my story. Now I really have no idea where it's going……