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Here's Hoping for The Worst!	By : V021 Category: Comics > Squee! Views: 1788 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Squee!, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Chapter 6: Wearing Donnie Darko’s
Tracksuit
“And in my darkest moment, fetal and weepin' The moon tells me a secret, my confidant As full and bright as I am, this light is not my own and A million light reflections pass over me” ~~ “Reflection”, Tool
“Now Todd,” began Mr. Balzac in a somber drone that could put Ben Stein to shame. “I can understand that you have been under a lot of stress lately due to the situation with your parents. It’s always emotionally difficult for a young person during a divorce…”
“My parents aren’t getting divorced!” Todd snapped then looked down, mortified. “My dad just moved out because he got offered a better-paying job in New York.”
“Of course he did… Still, that doesn’t excuse your behavior. Your permanent record is filled with instances of extensive truancy, a marked lack of interest in activities suitable for your age-group, and even outright rebellious behavior. You’ve been lashing out verbally against the established traditions of this school and blatantly refuse to fit in with your peers. You even alleged assaulted a fellow student. Such naked aggression and rebellion is unacceptable.”
“But I’m not rebellious!” barked Todd. “And I don’t want to be hostile toward everybody. Every time I try to be friendly to the other kids, it only ends up getting me hurt. They’re always pushing me. They’ve shun me, Mr. Balzac. They all treat me like I’m some kind of leper. It’s as if all the normal people hate me….”
“Now Todd,” Leaning forward, Mr. Balzac tried to look sympathetic but it came across more apathetic and condescending as he continued. “It’s not good to blame others. You need to learn to take responsibility for your actions.”
“I understand that but…”
With a sigh, Mr. Balzac sat back in his chair and frowned. “No, Todd. I’m afraid you don’t understand. Not only is your behavior affecting you socially, it’s also having a negative affect on your grades. Now we both know you never were a perfect student and we never expected you to be. And even though you passed the NJASK, you don’t seem to be applying yourself enough to the standardized national curriculum. In fact Todd, according to the results from the Basic Ultimate Learning and Logic Standard for Human Intelligence Test for grade 8, your academic performance thus far is so average that we’ve pretty much given up on you ever improving yourself scholastically.”
“But I’m doing pretty well in Art and English…” muttered Todd defensively. “Ms. Honey once said that I was the most gifted writer she’d ever read. And in shop class, Mr. Savage was really impressed with the special effects I did for the Theatre Club. Oh sure, I don’t do so hot on those BULLSHIT tests we have to take every year, but if I’m doing so badly then why do a lot of teachers keep telling me that the essays I turn in and my comments are creative and exceptionally intelligent? My history teach even suggested I look into getting placed in college level courses.”
Mr. Balzac frowned even more. “Intelligence is not the goal of education. We’re not here to teach you how to be innovative or to give you an in-depth knowledge of the subject matter. In fact, we actively discourage critical pedagogy in the classroom. Smart people are dangerous. They ask questions. They point out flaws. They are not easily controlled. This is why we actively encourage stupidity in the masses so that we can control them. What you’re supposed to learn in school is how to conform and not disrupt the status quo with such treacherous things as originality or social consciousness or free thought.”
All Todd could do was stare for a long time, shocked at this revelation. “But… But what about personal growth? And fulfillment? What about what’s best for future generations?!”
“Now Todd, there’s no use arguing,” chided Mr. Balzac. “I am a trained professional. And I know what’s best for you.”
Todd said nothing. The despair for both his own future and the futures of countless other poor unfortunate souls weighed heavily upon him. It was as if the POWERS THAT BE were actively creating the very morons that will send the whole world spiraling into the inescapable Apocalypse to come. He sat there wrapped up in his gloomy thoughts while the guidance counselor droned on without really listening to anymore, staring at the morning sunlight as it glinted off the tips of his boots and threw long shadows from the blinds across the carpet. It made the nubby fibers glow a dull rusty color. Like streaks of blood…
“…Todd?”
He jerked his head up and stared at Mr. Balzac. “Yes?”
“Excellent! I’ll tell Ms. Bulldike that you’ll be there after school then.”
“Whoa! Be where for what?” asked Todd, more than a little frightened.
“At the gym for the Track Team tryouts,” Mr. Balzac stated flatly. He was almost smiling now. “It’s was Ms. Bulldik’s idea, really. Athletics are a prefect way to channel your aggression and teach you discipline. Maybe being around so many jocks will finally show you that creativity and intelligence are actually unimportant in life. It may also improve your social skills.”
Todd started to say something back, to argue that sending him to those tryouts was akin to throwing a wounded rabbit to a pack of starved rabid wolves, but what was the point? From his past encounters with Mr. Balzac, Todd knew that it was useless to try reasoning with the man. And with Ms. Bulldike add to the mix, there was no way in heaven or hell he was going to get out of going to Track tryouts.
He slumped in defeat. “Okay, Mr. Balzac… I’ll be there.”
“Now Todd, that’s good to hear.” Getting up, Mr. Balzac walked him to the door. “You run along to class now, and don’t forget: Tryouts start at 3:45 this afternoon.”
“Yeah, sure…”
Todd felt vaguely sick as he trudged to his locker. He’d had a nasty headache ever since Johnny threw him out last night, but maybe it was just from lack of sleep. Not that he could’ve have slept, anyway. First there was Mister Eff, who decided to start in on him about “pussying out” and acting like a “faggot” the second Todd got back to his room. And things only got worse when the doughboys got hold of the pictures of Jenny he’d snuck out of Johnny’s house. Given what little he knew about the doughboys, Todd never expected D-boy to react so violently, and he wasn’t sure who’d been shocked by the outburst more, himself or Mister Eff. It took Shmee butting in before D-boy calmed down enough to stop choking him…
Wincing, Todd fingered the bruises on his neck as he remembered the look on D-boy’s face. He’d seen that look once before, when he was little standing in the alleyway behind the mall. It was the same look Johnny had right before he went off on yet another one of his psychotic tirades as he tore apart the creepy man in the Scumby shirt. Todd never quite recovered from that encounter, even though he had comet to realize that maybe Johnny might have saved him from being molested by some sick fuck. And it wasn’t just the fact that he’d witnessed a brutal murder, either. It had to do with Johnny’s uncanny ability to just appear out of nowhere and invade his life, starting with the night they met.
Like Johnny just ‘conveniently’ deciding to do some “expressing” at the mall that day… Or the time Todd was riding his tricycle around and almost been crushed by a mutilated corpse Johnny chucked out the window. And all the times Johnny would sneak into Todd’s bedroom to tell him bedtime stories that left the boy deeply traumatized. When Todd was committed, he was actually glad that he’d never have to see Johnny again and then who just happened turned up at the very same insane asylum Todd was sent to…
No matter where Todd went, Johnny would follow. And it was really scaring the hell out of him.
“Fucking bastard…” he hissed aloud.
“I take it things didn’t go well with Mr. Balzac…”
Todd yelped and rounded on Rufus. “SHIT! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“Sorry!” she whimpered, with a concerned expression on her normally cheery face. “It’s just that you had this awful look on your face, like when you killed Slater.”
“Yeah, well Balzac makes me feel like gutting someone with a ladle,” Todd grumbled absently. When he noticed Rufus staring at his neck, Todd yanked up his shirt collar and started toward the class. “Come on! We’re going to be late.”
The next ninety minutes passed by with unbearable speed for Todd as he brooded over the appalling state of public education, the looming threat of grievous bodily harm at Track tryouts, another massive migraine, and his growing infatuation with the scary neighbor man. He was still brooding on these and other weighty matters when lunch came around. He sat at the table with Rufus, hardly giving her more than gruff monosyllabic replies.
“So, what happened with Mr. Balzac?” she asked, eyeing his untouched lunch thoughtfully. ‘I wonder if he wants those tots…’
“The usual snide remarks about my parents and a total lack of empathy. Here,” he shoved his tray to Rufus, his head hurting too much to even stand the smell of it. “You can have my tots.”
She blinked in surprise. “You sure?”
“Yes. I’m not hungry anyway…”
‘I sense a great disturbance in the Force…’
“Okay. You know, those Star Wars references are getting annoying.”
“But, I didn’t say anything.” Rufus looked at him strangely. “Are you feeling alright?”
“Yeah. Just peachy,” hissed Todd as he went back to his brooding. Or at least, tried to. But now his mind was filled with a bizarre mutter of voices that drowned out the background sounds of a cafeteria filled with teenagers. They came streaming into him in a torrent of pettiness and callous selfishness.
‘You stupid bitch,’ came a growl that Todd could swear was coming from the smiling preppy boy sitting and laughing with his equally preppy girlfriend. ‘I wish you knew that I fucked you’re little sister the other night at Mitch’s. And she’s much better at giving head than you, you ungrateful slut. Ooo…I can still feel her tight little—’
‘—don’t panic! Don’t panic…’ chanted a very worried looking stoner at the table across from him. ‘Just stay cool man. Nobody saw you do it. Beside, the old broad would’ve croaked sooner or later and they’d probably just toss all her shit anyway…’ Now Todd could see an old woman terrified face staring out from the darkness, then a scream—
‘—Oh God! Please! Please God!’ begged a pretty redhead girl as she walked past Todd. ‘Please let the results be negative! Please! Oh God! I swear I’ll never have sex without a condom again, just please don’t let me be pregnant!’
In a sudden flicker of insight, Todd could see the redhead at her doctor’s looking at first relieved and then utterly shocked by the doctor’s next statement. He felt like he’d slipped out his body again as he abruptly turned to the redhead girl and heard himself say, “You’re not pregnant. In fact, you’ll never have to worry about getting pregnant again.”
“What the fuck?!” She glared at him in outrage. For some odd reason, he could taste something tangy and greasy.
“You’re experiencing pseudocyesis,” continued the other Todd. He smiled coolly at her. “In layman’s terms, a false pregnancy, which caused by your own obsessive fear of getting knocked up. But that’s going to be the least of your worries. When you go to the clinic tonight, the doctor’s going to tell you that and then she’s going to let you know that you’re asshole ex-boyfriend gave you something worse than a bawling shit-factory: He gave you Chlamydia , which he contracted on that trip to Cancun with his buddies when he cheated on you with the same drunken sorority girl he later dumped you for. You’ve been infected for the last two months, but you’ll survive. Alas, despite the best of fertility treatments and medical science, the disease has already done enough damage to your womb that you’ll never be able to conceive a child. You have been laid barren as punishment for your reckless lusts, but take heart: At least now you’ll never have to worry about taking the Pill again.”
The redhead girl stood there, gaping in stunned horror. Then she burst into tears and ran from the cafeteria.
Rufus stared at him in shock. “How did you know that?”
“I…I don’t know,” was all Todd could manage as he felt the other’s hold on him start to slip.
“Are you alright?”
“Fine!” came the growl as Todd tried to steady his trembling hands. His stomach lurched violently. “I...I’m gonna be sick!”
With that, he fled to the bathroom and rushed into a stall. Todd barely had knelt down to the toilet before throwing up a gigantic, leathery stream of gritty sludge. He kept hocking out the slimy mess, retching out a massive wads of what he swore was rubber tubing and wet fur. It squirmed around wildly as he vomited the stuff out, feeling it gush from his mouth and nose in vile torrent. Finally, after what felt like hours, the last strands came sliding out of his throat and hit the rest with a splash.
Gasping for air, Todd leaned against the stall door and closed his eyes. He was still shaking all over, but at least the migraine was gone. Then, seized by curiosity, he slowly opened his eyes and forced himself to look at the monstrous thing he’d thrown up.
It sat in the toilet bowl, glistening with a whitish sheen and trembling like black jellyfish. Its surface began frothing violently with lumps congealing into eyeballs or splitting open like miniature sucker mouths that gibbering with madness. Tiny little tendrils of slime thrust out from the mass, wriggling in a hypnotic fashion. As he watched in horror-stricken fascination, the Monster grew larger and started moving in a sluggish but deliberate way. Then it lurched toward him with such terrific speed that Todd almost didn’t have time to scramble out of the Monster’s reach.
He bolted out to the stall but heard the Monster slosh out of the toilet, landing on the tiles with a liquid thud. Todd wanted to run, to flee from the Monster he’d vomited out, but his body refused to respond. He stood there, back press up against the sinks as the Monster gushed out of toilet, its body swelling and twisting into a grotesque parody of what might have been an enormous bear. The Monster smiled at him, showing row upon row of fangs, and then lunged toward him.
Through sheer force of will, Todd ducked away from the Monster and ran blindly out of the bathroom. It hardly even registered that there was something wrong about the darkened hallway as Todd fled for his life with the Monster snapping at his heels. He ran and ran and ran down the apparently endless hallway until he saw a light glimmering up ahead.
Fueled by hope, Todd burst through the doorway and leapt out into nothing. He could see the Monster still in the doorway, howling with rage and unable—or unwilling— to follow him into the Never. As bizarre as it was to be floating out into the Never, all Todd could think of was how, for the first time in his entire life, he felt completely safe. There were no monsters to terrorize him, no parents who didn’t love him, no demon spawn lusting after him, and definitely no homicidal maniacs here. Only translucence and emptiness. The Never was gradually leeching away everything inside him, taking away the pain, the emotions, everything that had been Todd ‘Squee’ Casil. Todd closed his eyes, smiling gratefully as he started to dissolve into the nothing.
“Hey!”
Todd’s eyes shot open and found himself face to face with an impossibly thin, hooded man. That was weird enough in itself, but it looked like the guy had a pair of rabbit ears sewn onto his coat.
“Don’t give in,” whispered the stranger.
“Don’t give in? Give in to what?” snapped Todd, wincing from the abrupt sting of anger. “And who the fuck are you?!”
“There’s no time now. Just come with me.” Catching Todd’s arm in a vice-like grasp, the stranger began dragging him through the Never. Todd twisted and struggled, wanting desperately to sink back into that peaceful void but the stranger would not let him go. They float out through the great expanse of nothingness for what felt like forever until a small dark shape appeared in the distance. The closer they got to it, the larger it became and then Todd recognized it was a door kind of like the doors going to hospital rooms. When they got close enough, Todd could even read the little placard where they’d put the patient’s name.
It simply said: ‘John Doe’.
Once they reached the door, the stranger pulled Todd in front of him and opened it. Without a word of warning, he pushed the boy through and Todd falls into the swirling darkness.
Crying out, Todd jerked blindly up from the bed only to have a firm but gentle hand restrain him.
“It’s okay. You’re safe now,” assured a dark blob that Todd hoped wasn’t what another monster in a hurried but pleasant voice.
Todd blinked and tried to get a look at this person as his eyes adjust to the cold fluorescence. Slowly features came into focus and, to Todd’s relief it was a boy around his own age looking down at him. Even though the boy’s scythe-like cowlick and trench coat looked oddly familiar, Todd couldn’t remember ever having seen this guy at school before. Then again, Todd didn’t really pay that much attention to his classmates... But he swore he’d seen this guy somewhere.
“You okay there?” asked the boy, noticing the grimace on Todd’s face.
“Fine, I guess… Um, who are you?”
“Oh! Sorry!” Smiling, the boy extended a hand and to Todd’s surprise, he realized it was a metal claw. “I’m Dr. Mabuse⁽¹⁾, but you can call me Dib.”
“I’m Todd. Todd Casil,” he murmured, looking at the doctor’s hand dubiously. “You’re look way too young to be a doctor. Or are you some kind of Doogie Howser?”
Dib sighed. “Well, I do have a medical degree, but my main field of study it parapsychology.”
Todd’s brow wrinkled. “Parapsychology? You mean like ghosts and UFOs?” At the mention of UFOs, Todd sensed the strangest mixture of rage and lust from the doctor but he shrugged it off quickly as a frightening realization struck him. “Wait. What the hell does the paranormal have to do with me?! And just where am I anyway?”
“Just calm down.” Again, Dib took hold of his shoulder. “You’re still at the hospital. I won’t let them send you off to some lab, even after what happened.”
“Hospital? Why the hell am I in the hospital?!” Todd barked, his voice rising in terror.
“Please calm down, Todd,” repeated Dib. “Calm down and I’ll explain everything, okay?”
Frightened but strangely reassured by Dib’s tone, Todd leaned back against the pillows. “Alright. Tell me how I ended up in the hospital.”
“Well,” began Dib in a tone that was professional yet friendly. “The details are pretty fuzzy, but from what I’ve been able to find out, it started after you had what appeared to be a drug overdose almost two weeks ago. You were found convulsing on the floor, which lead to paramedics being called in. Now the reason you were in this state was because you apparently did one of two things: You either accidentally overdosed after having a panic attack or were actively trying to kill yourself. In fact, the hypothesis of suicide by overdose is the most popular, given your family situation and history of psychiatric problems. And this theory also explains most of your strange behavior. Of course, given the excessive amount of medication you’ve been prescribed, I’m amazed that this was the first time you’ve been hospitalized for an overdose. Accidental or otherwise.”
“But it wasn’t an overdose!” Todd snapped desperately. “It was…was…” As he struggled for a way to explain what happened rationally, Dib reached out again and gently patted his shoulder.
“It’s alright, Todd. I know it wasn’t an overdose,” Dib said softly. “From what I observed, it appears you were the victim of what could be called a psychic breakdown. But those narrow-minded assholes can’t very well put that in their reports, so the authorities have classified what happened as an overdose. When you were discovered in the bathroom, you were laying in a massive pool of red-brown fluid, a substance that was described in the official reports as ‘blood’ but actually was described off-record as being more like ‘Jell-o from Hell’ by the paramedics attending you. One EMT even related how the substance violently attacked them when they initially approached your body. I was able to obtain a sample and, while it does have traces of your blood in it, I’m more inclined to classify it as a very stable form of ectoplasm.”
“Ectoplasm?”
“Yes. That stuff often appears during psychic incidents, but yours is the first case I’ve ever encountered in which the substance actually remained long enough to be collected and properly analyzed. A breakthrough, really! Dr. Spengler⁽²⁾ himself even requested that you be approached for more thorough studies once you had recovered…” murmured Dib with smile that made Todd cringe a little. “But I digress… After the paramedics were able to stabilize and apparently revive you. According to all accounts, when you were admitted to the hospital you were extraordinarily coherent and aware of your surroundings. And you were very insistent upon being released as soon as possible. But since there was a suicide risk, the attending doctor choose to keep you a couple of days for observation. Then you started saying things to the staff and other patients that no normal person, especially a fifteen year-old boy, would know. There was a very notable incident where you told one of the ordeals a series of numbers that turned out to be the winning Mega Millions numbers. By the way, he’s splitting the jackpot with you.”
“So that’s why you here?” Todd grumbled. “Because I’m spewing out winning lotto numbers?”
“Not exactly. Even thought you were consistently demonstrating a wide range of psychic phenomena, from remote viewing to telepathy to precognition, those hidebound fools chalked it up to just lucky guesses and a talent at cold-reading. I was only brought in after the poltergeist appeared.”
“Are you saying you got involved because of a ghost?”
“No.” Sighing, Dib sat down on the bed next to Todd. “You see, poltergeists aren’t really ghosts in the common sense of a disembodied spirit or incorporeal entity. They’re actually displays of uncontrolled psychokinesis typically focused on a teenager, usually one undergoing a great deal of stress. Now, granted this is a hospital and there are a significant number of stressed out teens here, but considering your previous displays and the fact that the majority of the poltergeist activity occurred while you were present, it wasn’t too difficult for me to figure out you were the cause of it. Or maybe I should say the other you.”
“The other me?” Todd fidgeted nervously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
To Todd’s surprise, Dib actually smiled at the denial. “I don’t doubt that. It’s common for someone with dissociative identity disorder not to recall what their other personalities do.”
“Are you calling me crazy?!” snapped Todd, dully aware now that the other was seeping through again. “Because you of all people, Dib Mabuse, have no right to call anyone else crazy!”
“I never said you were crazy,” the paranormalist replied calmly though Todd could sense him suppressing his rage. “But I’d like to point out that you are manifesting as Johnny again.”
“Johnny?! What the fuck does he have to do with this?”
“So you know about Johnny?” Dib asked, raising an eyebrow as he pulled out a notepad.
“Yes…” Suddenly, Todd wasn’t sure if he should tell the paranormalist anything more. He might turn out to be like all the other doctors Todd had been to in his life, all too willing to write Johnny the Homicidal Maniac off as just another product of Todd’s deluded imagination. Then again, he had the oddest feeling that Dib would understand and maybe even be willing to actually help. Taking a deep breath, Todd decided to try his luck. “Okay, it’s like this: Johnny’s not a figment of my imagination. He’s a real person! And he happens to be my next door neighbor. I’ve known the guy ever since I was five. He’s….oh god! What can I say about the guy? He’s a raving madman! A monster!”
“So you and him were enemies?”
“Actually, no. See, Johnny got it into his head that I’m his best friend,” grumbled Todd miserably. “Kind of like Pepito, only slightly less demonic.”
“Pepito, huh? Well, that explains why my darling cousin is so…eh, concerned about you,” Dib mumbling, making a note of it. When he noticed the angry, frightened look on Todd’s face, he murmured, “We’ll come back to him later. Right now, I’d like you to tell me a little more about Johnny. I take it he isn’t a very pleasant person?”
Todd laughed dryly. “That’s putting it nicely. Johnny actually is a serial killer…No! I take that back. He’s more of a spree killer or maybe a berserker? Fuck! I don’t think they’ve got a word for what he is! Johnny just murders people! Lots and lots of people… He’s killed so many over the years that I’m shocked he hasn’t been caught yet. Then again, I doubt you can catch monsters like you do normal people… And, oh GOD, the bed-time stories he’d tell me…”
“Bed-time stories? Are you saying that Johnny only appears at night?”
“No. I’ve seen him around during the day-time, so I know he’s not a vampire…” Todd watched Dib swiftly scribbling down everything he said. “But usually he’d creep into my room at about 2 in the morning and just start talking to me, telling me all kinds of horrible things and giving me the most ungodly advice…”
“Was that all he’d do with you? Just talk? Or was there more intimate activities?”
“NO!” Todd roared, shocked by the outrage in his own voice. “Things aren’t like that between us! In fact, Johnny despises sex.”
Again Dib’s eyebrow rose. “So this Johnny is erotophobic?”
“Very! He practically vomits when the subject of sex comes up. I’d say he’s the demented poster-boy for antisexualism.”
“Okay. Now let me make sure I understand this: You’re saying that Johnny, your murderous—possibly supernatural—next door neighbor, is not only misanthropic but militantly celibate?”
“As far as I know.” Todd muttered. “Except for this one time, Johnny went out on a date with a girl—this utterly beautiful girl with purple hair and these really pretty eyes… But that don’t turn out well, because Johnny came over a few days later and told me she’d kicked his ass when he tried to kill her.”
“Interesting…” Dib jotted something down in his notes. “Now, can I ask you a rather personal question?”
“Sure, I guess…”
“Did you ever want a sexual relationship with Johnny?”
“What?! No! I—I…” Stammering, Todd couldn’t figure what to say. He had been thinking about Johnny a lot lately and it had gotten to the point where Todd found himself fantasizing about the scary neighbor. But he didn’t want things to be that way with Johnny because Todd knew it was wrong and yet he couldn’t stop those horrible feelings from coming. Those nasty, terrible dreams often left him sickened from the guilt and angry with himself. Finally, he slumped in defeat. “I honestly don’t know.”
“Alright. Let me ask you another personal question: Do you consider yourself a homosexual?”
Going defensive, Todd glared at Dib. “I’m not sure where you’re going with this…”
“I don’t mean anything by asking that. It’s simply that confusion about your sexuality may be causing some major stress in your life. And it’s the stress that may have produced the initial seizure. Now, what I’m trying to establish is exactly what the trigger event was. I’m also trying to find out what caused you to start manifesting psychic powers and what almost killed you last night.”
“WHAT?”
Yet again, Dib reached out to sooth the boy. “Calm down. It’s not that big of a deal…”
Todd rounded on him. “Not that big of a deal?! I almost DIED and it’s not a big deal?!”
“You’re talking to someone’s who’s been declared legally dead at least fourteen different times,” Dib replied nonchalantly. “Trust me it really isn’t something you need to get worked up about. In fact, I’d advise that you try not getting so stressed out.”
“Why shouldn’t I be stressed?!” snapped Todd. “I’m in the hospital, you just told me I’m some kind of a freak, and that Monster in my head almost killed me!”
“Monster? In your head?” More notes.
“It…it was just a nightmare. I have nightmares all the time…”
“I noticed that in your file,” Dib replied, pulling a folder out of his coat pocket. “It also says that you suffer from severe chronic migraines, which explains the painkillers…and that you have an ‘imaginary friend’, Shmee.”
“Yes. Well, he’s not really imaginary. He’s my teddy bear…” muttered Todd, ashamed to admit that he still had one. “And there are the Doughboys, too, but I don’t think they’re imaginary either…”
“Doughboys?” Now Dib sound very interested. The pen in his hand scratched audibly across the paper as he took down more notes. “Tell me something, Todd. Do these doughboys show up only in your dreams?”
“No! They’re real, dammit! They’ve even talked to other people. Well, once…when I was unconscious. See, they’re made out of Styrofoam…well, they were, until Shmee turned them into key-chains…”
“So, Shmee has control over the doughboys?”
“Sort of…” Todd mumbled. “I’m not sure anybody can control those two. Especially Mister Eff.”
“The girly one? With ‘FUCK’ on its shirt?”
“No, that’s D-boy… Mister Eff is the one with the ‘Z?’.”
“Okay…” Making one final note, Dib glanced down at his watch. Grimacing, he reluctantly put away his notepad and got up. “Well, I think that enough for now. We’ll talk some more later. Just try to relax and get some rest.” He moved toward the door.
“Wait! When can I leave?”
For a moment, Dib stood there and Todd could sense he was stalling for time. “Soon. I… Well, we still need to do some more tests… Make sure your recovery is going well. We’ll let you out as soon as we have the results…”
“Liar.” The word hissed from Todd’s lips. “You’re not keeping me here because you want to make sure I’m better. It’s because you don’t know what’s wrong with me. That’s the real reason you’re keeping me prisoner in the hellhole, isn’t it Dib?”
“Actually, I think know what the problem is but it’s still too early to be sure. Don’t worry, though. You should be out of here in the next couple of days.” He started to leave again but then paused and added, “Todd, I promise you that I’ll help you get through this. All you have to do is trust me.”
Todd didn’t say anything. Then he finally whispered, “I trust you.”
“Alright.” Dib was smiling again. “I’ll be back soon.”
With that, Dib was gone and Todd lay back on the bed. Even though Dib hadn’t really told him much, Todd felt strangely comforted by the fact that the paranormalist genuinely wanted to help. He couldn’t figure out why he felt like this. They’d just met and yet Todd was already willing to trust this guy with his life and sanity. Maybe it was because Dib was so confident, so in control of himself…
“He’s not, you know,” murmured a voice at the foot of the bed.
Todd jerked up, staring at the hooded stranger who was sitting on the edge of the bed. Now he realized that the rabbit-ears weren’t attached to his hood but part of a grotesque papier-mâché mask. “Oh fuck! You again?!”
“Dib won’t save you, Squee,” continued the stranger, oblivious to the outburst. “He might not even be able to save himself.”
“And you can?” sneered Todd.
The stranger laughed madly then abruptly stopped. “I’m afraid I can’t save you, either. I couldn’t save myself…”
Reaching up, the stranger took off his mask and leaned in close so Todd could get a good look at the hideous remains of his face. It once had been a man, but the flesh was rotting and one side of the face had been shattered by what looked like a gunshot. Todd swore he recognized the gaunt features despite the ravages of decay and violent death. But before he could figure out who the stranger reminded him of, the stranger placed the mask back over his face.
“Not so pretty, am I?” the stranger snickered then lapsed into silence. Before Todd could ask, the stranger spoke again.
“You’re wondering what happened to me, right?” Without giving Todd a chance to answer, the stranger continued. “It was the monster behind the Wall. It drove me to madness and I ultimately ended up killing myself. Okay, so I wasn’t exactly a healthy specimen of humanity, but what the Moose⁽³⁾ did to me was something I wouldn’t wish upon even those vile goblin people.”
Todd arched an eyebrow. “You went insane because of a monstrous moose?”
“Well, no,” the stranger replied. “It’s not really a moose. Hell, you should know that! I mean, you saw it yourself…”
“That thing in my head drove you insane?!” Todd barked, terrified.
“Actually, I was horrendously insane long before the Sickness took over my mind. Maybe that’s how it found a loophole. Maybe it’s too late…” The stranger stopped unexpectedly, leaping to his feet and pacing around the room. “No! There’s no time for that now. I swore, swore to whatever God is left to listen, that you’d never become like me! And I’ll keep that promise!”
“But you just said you couldn’t help me.”
“No!” corrected the stranger. “I said I couldn’t save you, Squee. Only you can save yourself. But I refuse to stand by and let that motherfucking Sickness destroy you the way it destroyed me!”
Again, the stranger fell silent and this time Todd realized he was listening to something. At first, Todd couldn’t figure out what the stranger was hearing but soon he became aware of a dull clatter which was moving closer and closer and closer…
“I have to go, Squee.” The stranger voice was fainter now and he was slowly fading away. “I…I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up, but as long as I’m able to I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”
“But I don’t even know who you are!”
“You already know me…” Now the stranger was reduced to nothing more than a floating bunny head. “Please, Squee…take care of yourself and whatever happens… Don’t give in…”
And then there was nothing. Now bunny-masked stranger, no clatter noises, nothing. Only the average surroundings of a hospital room and the average background sound of the staff making their daily rounds.
Todd lay on the bed for hours, staring up at the ceiling blankly as his already troubled thoughts roiled with confusion and a vague sense of cosmic paranoia.⁽⁴⁾ But soon even the fear that the Universe itself wasn’t enough to keep Todd from falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
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Author Notes:
1. See Chapter 2 of Invader Scorned.
2. “ href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001633/">Janine Melnitz: You are so kind to take care of that man. You know, you're a real humanitarian. Dr. Egon Spengler: I don't think he's human.” ~~~ Ghost Busters (1984)
3. “FUN FACT: It’s not a moose.” ~~ JtHM, vol. 5
4. DON’T PANIC. And don’t forget your towel
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