Seconds passed; each tick of the clock lasting a lifetime. Every movement was slowed and blurred, the vision blackening at the edges; the sure sign of death to wash upon him and all that he was.

Wooden floors below were spattered with dark crimson; a river of blood continuously flowing from a deep hole inside of Johnny C's head.

Screaming with fury, Mr. Eff looked helplessly at the ceiling, while Psycho doughboy stayed pinned to the wall.

Coughing up more dark crimson, Johnny writhed on the floor, covering the see-through hole and captivating half of his face. Panting with loss of blood and oxygen, he started wheezing with exhausting effort and cursed silently to himself as he slowly curled into the fetal position.

Mr. Eff, furious and disappointed, he hobbled his stubby, Styrofoam body over to Psycho Doughboy, who was squirming with delight despite the fact there was a 9' in. blade protruding from the middle of his face.

Steaming, Mr. Eff angrilly ripped out the knife that pinned Psycho Doughboy, and threw it to the side effortlessly and carelessly.

"Fuck." Eff's eye started twitching and started to head out of the room along with another proud piece of Styrofoam.

"You poor, pitiful bastard," Mr. Fuck said, casting one last, reluctant glance at the dying man on the floor, which was consumed in blood.

Johnny, shivering, and blind, continued panting and wheezing, trying to think of when everything had started to spiral out of control; when he lost grip of his own reality.

He recalled the conversation he held with Nailbunny not that many days ago. But all he could remember from that night were faint images and only part of the dialogue he shared with the severed bunny head.

A low, faint voice whispered in the back of his mind as he thought back to that night.

"Let me remind you that you've still no idea what you were like before all of this. Pity is one thing you shouldn't…. yet."

Bunny's voice sounded disfigured, and inaudible at some points, and the pounding of blood in his ears growing louder, louder, louder, louder.

"The other voices….. –aware." The voice was getting fainter, yet fainter more, making Johnny push himself to hear Nailbunny's reassuring voice just once more.

A loud click flipped on in the back of his mind, and a clear, more distinct audio of the dialogue played over, and over, and over back into his head, reliving the uncomforting nightmare.

"Ohhh…. I wish… I wish someone would just switch me off and… FIX ME." A sob sounded into his head, "Bunny?"

"Yes, Nny?" The gentle, silky voice soothing him; distracting him.

"I'm not happy, I'm not happy, I'm not happy ,switch me off, not happy, fix me, not…fix…happy…NOT…HAPPY"

Johnny's broken, recorded voice played back over, and over into his mind, taunting him, eating away his strength, every moment of joy, every ounce of his will to continue. His voice got louder, louder, until he realized someone was nudging his ribcage, bruising his torso and disturbing his inner epiphany.

Looking up though his only good eye, his vision wobbled until he spotted two of his hostages standing over him; one with a dirty, fucked up expression, and the other, a disgusted, pitiful look. Of course, he couldn't remember what exactly he did to them, but it didn't really matter at the moment.

Johnny took another few rasping breaths and forced with all his might to hear the conversation going on between the man and the woman. The man had an oddly shaped head, like a potato… heh.

"…You go on, get out! I'll leave after putting a few dents in this uh…this…FUCKER!"

The potato-head man knelt down close to Johnny, looking at him with murderous hate in his eyes, a glint of grotesque disturbance, and a thin sheen of sweat caking his forehead.

Irritation grew inside of Johnny. They intruded on his last memory with Bunny, and he's most likely going to die without Nailbunny's reassurance beside him, to guide him. Fuck.

"Hsss…" Johnny took another, long rasped, burdened breath, "You won't be going ANYWHERE. You're dying too. KKchhhh…" Coughing up another pool of blood, Johnny shuddered and turned to get a better look at his visitors.

"WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY? Oh, man, I'm gonna…"

Potato man looked angrily down at Johnny in disgust and bent down, a sneer forming over his lips.

Ignorant little shit. Can he NOT see the shot wound on his head- no wait, through? People are too distracted in their own publicity and proud selves to see the reality before their own eyes.

"What? You'll KILL ME?" Johnny took his bloody hand away from his eye, and continued with another rasping breath, "… idiot, look at my head. Better yet, look THROUGH IT."

Heh… karma…

"Heh, I am funny…," a tremor fled through his body and he coughed once more, sending another fountain of blood onto the stained remains of the floorboard underneath him.

"hhh… you wouldn't happen to have a CORK on you would you…? Sh…. Shit. Don't you just hate it when you can't feel your legs?"

Johnny now had to stop in mid-sentence from blood loss, and more blood catching in his throat. The taste of iron in his mouth getting stronger, and worse.

"…Then there's that pesky onset of blindness… You're lucky death will be quick for you."

A continuous rant of angry yells came from the potato man, each word just rabble. Rabble, rabble, rabble, rabble…

"YOU'RE GONNA DIE, COCKSU…"

Interrupting the potato guy's rant, Johnny cut in with a quick, burdened sigh, "Killing someone who's bleeding to death. Fff…. Fuck. You people… you…" Johnny grit his teeth as his breaths became shallower, "how stupid you are. Resorting to the same old monkey brutality, afraid to look up from your bloody dicks. Afraid of transcendence.

….You're head looks like a potato."

Johnny licked his lips, trying to rid himself of the crusty blood that dried earlier on.

"And how stupid was I? I, actually paid attention to you. Devoted precious thought to it. God… I used to love the noises I heard in my head. Hhhhh…." Another rasp and his fingers twitched uncontrollably, "I never should've left my room… my room, out there, I almost remember it. It's gone now… along with everything else… vanishing.

Heh...Potato…"

"Ukk… I never even got to see it…. The wall thing. This isn't pleasant… I'd rather not be dead… don't want to die… don't, geez. This is worse than Goth poetry. Agg…"

The pain lining and inside of his head where the bullet wound was unbearable; as if it was on fire. The agony wouldn't stop, and Johnny tried to ignore the searing burn eating away at his skull.

The other, the woman who was standing beside the potato man, headed over to the window just several feet away, "… don't even see any stars."

Potato moron just answered with a rude retort about clouds.

"No more stars… no… clouds… nothing… hssssssss…." Johnny clamped his mouth shut as he turned his vision back to the ground, and to the puddles of dark crimson surrounding him; wheezing.

"It's such an easy thing to say you hate something… so easy to hate… What a piece of shit I am… I ca… can't believe I went the easy way… I thought I knew…

I wish I knew something… anything."

Taking one last glance at the potato man, he added, "ehhh…. Actually… your head looks more like a reject jelly bean." Johnny coughed once more, feeling as if he coughed up almost every intestine within his body, and choked it out. His throat on fire, the agonizing pain from the hole in his head, the emptiness and the loneliness he felt without that inner voice; it hurt.

"OKAY, THAT'S IT! SAY GOODBYE TO WHAT'S LEFT OF YOUR HEAD!"

Before Johnny could process what Jelly-bean/potato guy just said, he received what felt like a thousand tons hit his face, fracturing his cheekbone, and pushing the bone into his mouth. Another kick to his face and several teeth breaking away from his gums, along with a smashed nose, a dislocated jawbone, a torn tongue, and a broken neck. The cheekbone cut into the roof of his mouth, and stayed there, along with half of his tongue lying below the bone. Bloody bits and whole teeth flew from his mouth from the impact of the shoe, and his jaw line hung awkwardly at a disturbed angle.

To add to the destruction, his throat and adam's apple were kicked in, causing his air supply to abruptly cut off, and become suffocated.

But, on his last second, a bright flash, and tentacles, faces, flesh, and blood were flying in the air along with yelling, and shrill screams of pure terror.

Finally, Johnny fell, limp and lifeless on a small bit of blood-stained floor, in a black abyss of nowhere.

…

…

…

"Sometimes…

You can cry until there is nothing wet in you.

You can scream and curse to where your throat rebels and ruptures.

You can pray, all you want, to whatever god you think will listen.

And, still, it makes no difference.

It goes on, with no sign as to when it might release you.

And you know that if it ever did relent…

It would not, because IT CARED."

(AUTHOR'S NOTE:) hope you enjoyed this one. Makes up for the gore and stuff you've been looking for.

this is the last chapter for this story, but I'm most likely going to add a sequel; Johnny the Dead Homicidal Maniac (heaven version:) and once I finish that, I'll go on into the Hell version.

All words in BOLD are real quotes from the comic(5) and (4). Those quotes specifically belong to Jhonen Vasquez. Not me.(bows down)

But, it all depends on how busy I am, so, check up every now and then.

Review please. Review, review review(hint: user's w/out accounts can also review.) Please, I need to know what you thought of it. yeah, once again, its not a psychological as I wanted the chapter to be, but oh well. You might find more of that in the later stories. Back to the point, review, favorite, message me, do whatever, to let me know your view on the story please.