It felt like a lifetime. But how long had it really been? Two years? Three? Time didn't matter much when you realize you're stuck in this rotten world longer than anything else. How I dreaded that fact. Ever since I first stared at my new shell of shit in the mirror, profoundly confused, I held on to one eager thought: maybe now, I could die. It would be easier than before, back when I was a styrofoam display, yearning to end my existence and Johnny C's—to be freed.
I never expected that no matter how hard I tried, nothing would come of it. No darkness. No numbness. No coldness of death to take my newfound existence. I was met with stagnant moments: nooses around my neck, pill bottles emptied, even shooting my brains out. It never worked. The crunching, squishing sound of brain matter would return. Blood reincarnated in the back of my head, ringing in my ears.
Fuck, my hair even grew back.
One episode, in particular, stands out. I tried using Eff's toaster in the bathtub, hoping it would do the trick. It didn't. Eff screeched at me for breaking his toaster for ten minutes before he said something... peculiar.
"Don't you see?" He calmed down. "We're real. And hell, we're immortal. We have all the time in the world. Cherishing it through lifetimes isn't all we can do. Throwing it away when you can dispose of others... that's pretty great, too."
Unconvinced, I replied, "Then do all those magnificent things by yourself. I'll find my way out of this. You've already got yours."
There was a flicker of something in him for a moment. Quietly, he muttered as he walked away, "It was the will of our Master."
Our dear Master.
I never thought about what would happen after Nny died. I believed—religiously—that our Master would grant us, Eff and I, our separate desires. And then he'd disappear. I wanted to disappear, too. I never questioned it. As the Voice of Misery, I thought the end would be simple. Easier than living. But as those dreams of a happy ending shattered, so did my sense of self.
Why was I still here, existing in this semi-human form with Eff? Why couldn't I die? How had it come to this? And why, after everything, did our time still exist?
I sat on the old, worn, and stained sofa in house #777. The place reeked of ancient flesh, appearing abandoned to all but us. But it was so much more than that. It was where things came to die, under the hands of a warden of hell: an emaciated idiot with no control over his life, ruled by Voices instructing his every move. He had the audacity to leave town forever, and leave us behind—mysteriously alive. This house held too many memories. And in a way, both Eff and I knew Nny wasn't wrong for leaving. This was a chapter—no, a whole series—that needed to be swept away forever.
And it angered me. It pained me to admit it. The rust-colored wall stood unmoving, void of eldritch abominations. Just a few cockroaches now.
"So, where do you think we ought to go?" Eff entered the room, sitting cross-legged across from me like a child.
"Dunno, maybe northeast. Definitely out of this city," I replied.
"Why northeast?"
I tossed my head back, staring at the decrepit ceiling. "More secluded. Wooded. Stars and the moon shine brighter in the countryside, I guess."
We had managed to get our hands on maps of the outside world, specifically of a state called "Maine." It seemed interesting, sitting on the border of another country, near the water. People talked a lot about its trees and lobsters.
With what little belongings we had bundled up, I stood in the living room and took one last look around. Faded curtains. Creaking floorboards. The putrid smell of decay. Roaches scattering. Holes and scratches in the walls. The old TV set. And… a picture of Nailbunny.
"Y'know, I kinda miss that little hissy fucker," Eff commented.
"Yeah," I replied. "Would be a sight to see him reincarnated."
We headed outside under a moonless sky, the city's light pollution glowing in the distance. No need to go through the city full of living garbage. Eff would have a bloody parade.
"Should I lock the door?" Eff asked.
Turning to face him, I replied in my usual monotone, "Yeah. At least try to keep some poor sap from stumbling in and seeing what went wrong in this house."
Eff locked the door and joined me as we took one last look at the house.
"Let's go," I said, breaking the silence.
