Adult-FanFiction.org : Comics

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
- 7
- 8
Chapter 7: Come in my boat...

“Komm in mein Boot

ein Sturm kommt auf

und es wird Nacht”

~~ “Seeman,” Rammstein

            It was several days after speaking with Dr. Mabuse before Todd woke up. He had slept fitfully the whole time, sunk deep in his troubled thoughts and wild fever dreams…

            It began when Todd found himself standing alone in a labyrinthine sewer. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten there or even where there was, only that he gone down into that abysmal place in search of something. As Todd roamed the ancient tunnels, hideous and unnatural creatures wriggled in the filth, chittering angrily at him as he walked past. He wandered through nightmarish halls lined with locked doors, a prison-like mental ward for dangerous maniacs. At times he could hear tortured screams, desperate pleading noises that were almost human-all noise that he almost thought said words. There had been other sounds as well, metal scraping metal or an indistinct, gristly popping and occasional snippets of beautiful, eerie music. With these and other, even more disturbing things echoing in his ears, Todd climbed up stairs covered in slimy shit, crawled through dank mazes of pipes, and skirted the edges of deep cesspools with vile things that writhed and gibbered at him, until he reached the Lake.

            Todd couldn’t explain it, but he knew what he was searching for was out there across the filthy water. There had been a distant point of light, dim and yellow-white, hovering high above the very center of the Lake and beckoning to Todd. He looked around the water’s edge until he stumbled upon a rickety little boat which he climbed into and began to row toward the light. For seemingly endless hours he rowed and rowed and rowed until the light gradually brightened around him, changing the water to a murky green. Soon the light was strong enough for Todd to make out that there were dark shapes floating just beneath the surface. He first thought they were some kind of water weeds, but the light revealed the hideous truth.

            The Lake was filled with bodies. Thousands and thousands of dead bodies that spiraled out from the very center of the Lake, bodies of both men and women, mostly youthful and attractive, the hipsters, the gang-bangers, and the trendy ‘scene kids’ . They all were bound in some way with leather straps and other torture devices, their ruined bodies tethered to the unseen bottom by heavy rusted chains. It was obvious that these people had been dead for a long, long time yet decay was only just beginning to set in. As horrific as it all was, Todd found himself strangely fascinated by the subtle corruption of the flesh, the way those wasted bodies would sway gently with an intricate twisting of hair and cloth underneath the water. He stared spellbound at them all, his oars forgotten as he drifted aimlessly toward the light. And a thousand empty eyes stared back at him, cloudy and hollow in faces that were eerily serene in death. But then Todd began to recognize the faces staring up from the depths.

            There was the creepy man in the Scumby shirt, his skull splayed open with the hooks still in it. And over there was the census taker, only a mangled, splinter filled torso just as Todd remembered. And there were even more corpses bunched like a hideous display of fruit. He saw one set of hooks and chains twisting emptily below the water, as if something had torn free of their restraints. After that the bodies seemed to thin out, as if whatever had put them there wasn’t killing as often as it once did. Then he drifted over to a fresh mass of bodies, the violated and mutilated victims of a voracious serial killer the gore-hungry press had dubbed the Happy Noodle-Boy. Appalled but not surprised, Todd recognized the sad face of the girl who had waited on him at the 24-7 the other day, her head haloed by faint wisps of red fog.

            There was more of this crimson fog billowing out into the water like vast banks of clouds, as if a bottle of red ink had been dumped out into the water, all vividly lit by the blazing light. Todd turned and looked up squinting to see what was creating this fantastic glare. At first, all he could make out was a vague dark shape but soon his vision cleared enough that there was a gigantic lamppost with a ludicrously huge light bulb sticking up out of the Lake. And then he saw the bunny-man, his mask was broken now to reveal half of his gaunt face with gore oozing out from between the clenched teeth, the face beneath frozen in a look of tearful shock. Blood seeped out from his wounds, bright and crimson, dribbling down the bunny-man’s stomach and legs to drip off the shiny metal clefts of his boots in great big drops, spilling out into the water like ink that billowed out into vast red banks of clouds. It was clear that some thing had beaten the bunny-man brutally, then took a huge nail and thrust it through his torso, pinning him to the lamp.

            Faintly, Todd heard a buzzing like flies hovering around road kill. It grew gradually louder, filling the vast chamber with an ungodly seething rattle that shook the teeth in Todd's head and ground into his very soul. Several black tentacles rose out of the bloody water. They writhed and turned hypnotically for a few moments before they shot forward to snatch Todd and drag him into the depths…

            Jerking upright, Todd found himself in the safety of the hospital room. He knew that what he’d seen and experienced hadn’t-couldn’t- actually have happened, that he’d dreamt it all, but it felt too real. And why was he dreaming about all those dead people? Specifically, why was he dreaming about murder victims? Okay, so maybe it was possible that the deaths of the Scumby man and the census taker could be explained as a manifestation of childhood trauma…then again, Todd knew that his whole life had been a continuous stream of traumas, so those two incidents shouldn’t really matter much. And that didn’t explain those other deaths. The only one besides the Scumby man and the census taker in which he’d had any meaningfully contact with was the 24-7 clerk. The longer he thought about it all, the more frightening his conclusions became.

            Because Todd realized that all these people, from the creepy Scumby man to the 24-7 clerk to the dead hipsters, had one major thing in common-besides being dead of course. All those people—those poor, miserable examples of humanity—they all had met Death in the most brutal, wantonly violent and sickest way possible. And that could only mean one thing: Johnny.

            Of course, it didn’t make sense! True, Todd could remember being the unlucky witness to some of his nightmarish neighbor’s more brutal moments, but he couldn’t possibly have seen all of them! Besides, if all those people had been the pathetic casualties of Johnny’s personal “expression”, then he’d have to have been killing for at least decades. Possibly even centuries, judging by sheer number of bodies.

            “But that doesn’t make sense!” Todd repeated aloud, slumping forward with his head in his hands and unable to reconcile the obvious but impossible conclusion. “It is just fucking impossible!”

            “Why?” moaned a dirge-like voice. Todd looked up and saw D-boy smiling sweetly at him. “For all you know, Johnny could be immortal. He can’t actually die…at least, he can’t die like a mortal. He’s even told you so. A supernatural psycho killer, slaughtering his way through Eternity, a hideous plague-demon unleashed upon man as punishment for his own outrageous excesses. He is Eurynomus, the grinning monster sent to slay those whose sins offended the very gods themselves!”

            “He does look like a big-mouthed man bug monster sometimes…” Todd muttered, not bothering to wonder when or how D-boy had gotten there. “But if Johnny is some kind of divine punishment, then why doesn’t he enjoy what he does? I mean, it be like his reason for living. So why is he always trying to end it all?”

            “If you’re sole purpose for being was to spend the rest of eternity killing virtually everyone you’ll ever met, would you want to continue existing?”

            “Good point. But what about the Happy Noodle Boy killings?”

            D-boy’s smile widened evilly. “What about them?”

            “Johnny couldn’t have done that to those girls.”

            The doughboy recoiled in shock. “Are you pulling my dick?! We both know Nny’s capable of excessive acts of brutality…”

            “That’s not what I meant!” snapped Todd. “I know Johnny’s a killer. He's a sick, violently damaged creature. He’s a whole lot of horribly nasty things, but at least he’s not a rapist.”

            “And what makes you so sure of that, boy?” darkly laughed D-boy. “After all, they keep finding those fucking stick-figure scribblings at every crime scene. He was always leaving shit like that laying about…just begging to be caught, if you ask me… And wasn’t Happy Noodle Boy created by Johnny?”

            “Yes… but that's coincidental. It doesn’t mean he did those things. For all either of us know, it could just be some crazy hobo…”

            “You know this isn’t just some random street vermin.” rasped the doughboy, his tone shifting darkly. “Just like you know, deep down-despite all his protests to the contrary- Johnny truly enjoys what he does…”

            “Maybe you’re right about that part. After all, he’s perfectly capable of chopping somebody up, flaying the flesh from their bones, and maybe even wiring a guy up to be electrocuted every time someone used the door bell without any shame ...but rape? It's not his thing.” Speaking softly, Todd paced around the room, his hands gesturing random emphasis to his words. “He wouldn’t inflict that upon another person. Because Johnny considers rape disgusting. It's beneath him. It’s…it’s giving into the baser instinct, that primitive and bestial state of humanity that Johnny finds so hideously repulsive. Besides, he loathes touching people.”

            “An excellent insight into our old friend’s psyche, my boy!” chirped D-boy. “Yet this leads us to one of three possibilities. First is that maybe you’re completely wrong and that Johnny is a hypocritical bastard who refuses even to admit he has any sexual urges yet acts upon them in that most vile and repugnant way a man can. We’re both well aware of Johnny’s infinite capacity for denial. The second possibility is that it isn’t Johnny at all but a sick little copycat killer—very likely, considering that dear old Nny has became quite the legend around these parts. And this ties in with the third possible answer to this conundrum: that Johnny does the killing after his accomplice does the raping, quite likely as an act of twisted mercy for the victim…”

            “Accomplice?!” Todd hissed. “That’s crazy! And it makes no sense! He would never have an accomplice! That implies an intimate relationship between Johnny and another human being! And Johnny loathes every single human in existence, including himself.” Todd paused. “Especially himself!”

            “He likes you,” D-boy pointed out dryly.

            Todd glared at the doughboy. “Yeah, well I’m beginning to have doubts about that…”

            D-boy grinned smugly. He leaned in close to Todd, snuffing deeply. “Ah, despair! The sweetest perfume I’ve ever known!”

            “Actually, I think it’s just a serious case of body odor.” He sniffed one of his armpits, and then winced in disgust. “Damn, I need a shower.” he muttered, staggering toward the tiny bathroom.

            “Why even bother?” D-boy groused, following Todd into the bathroom while the boy undressed. “It’s not like anyone cares about your personal hygiene.”

            “Dib would.”

            The doughboy started giggling. “Aww, got a little crush on the good doctor?”

            Turning around and not even considering the fact that he was completely naked now, Todd glared him. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I barely even know the guy! Besides, just because I happen to like Dib doesn’t mean I’m sexually attracted to him. Sure, he’s good-looking in a geeky sort of way, intelligent, and actually seems to think of me like a human being. But that doesn’t me I want him to suck my cock.”

            “Of course it doesn’t…” D-boy purred in a mocking tone. Then he glanced down, arching an eyebrow as his little smirk shifted coyly. “Then again, I doubt anyone could fit that easily in their mouth…”

            Grabbing a towel, Todd quickly covered himself and snapped, “Get the fuck out, you PERVERT!”

            “You are such a prude…” D-boy sighed before he vanished with a squishy pop.

            Todd stood there a moment, flushed with embarrassment. Then, after making a quick check to make sure the doughboy was really gone, he climbed into the shower. The very act of just standing there underneath the shower felt utterly amazing despite the triviality of it. Todd closed his eyes and shuddered in delight at the strange, almost electric sensations tingling across his skin. He moaned as hot water rushed over him, splashing onto his face and shoulders then running down the rest of his body. It was so relaxing, so sensational that all he did for the longest time was stand there, blissed out in an orgasmic haze. But it slowly dawned on Todd that water wasn't supposed to move upward and it sure as hell didn't lick people.

            Snapping out of his idyllic trance, Todd stared with terror at the thick, greasy tentacles creeping up his legs and stomach. There was a moment when he stood in shock, giving those horrible things more time to ooze even further up to twist around his torso. It was only when they started pulling him down into the growing pool of black sludge that Todd screamed and struggled to free himself. Crazed with fear, he fought against the groping, clawing hands that seized hold and dragged him under. Todd shrieks of terror were silenced when one tentacle whipped around his neck and thrust deep into his mouth. Still kicking and clawing to get away, Todd was sickeningly conscious of the many nasty tentacles foully probing his more intimate parts by as he sank into the filthy darkness that chattered like swarms of destroying locusts…

            …and then there was nothing. No tentacles, no dirty hands…nothing. Only the rattle of water hitting the shower floor on which Todd curled in a crumpled, twitching heap with wild, staring eyes. If it hadn’t been for the stinging bruises and scratches covering his body, Todd would’ve been happy to just chalk the whole incident up as another fucked up hallucination.

            Groaning in pain, he got up and staggered out of the shower. Suddenly, Todd became aware of two presences just beyond the bathroom door. He twisted sharply toward the door, straining to hear the oddly muffled voices. One seemed like a male and the other was more feminine, and judging by the harshness of their tones they must be having a very heated argument indeed. He was still shaking, but now fear had given way to rage.

            “Those filthy little shits...” Reaching to the sink behind him, Todd felt his fingers clench around the pistol he'd taken from Johnny's house. He didn't have any idea how it could have gotten there or where that creepy chittering was coming from, but right then, he didn't give a shit. With a growl of fury, he wrenched the door open and leveled the gun to blow the unholy shit out of both those fucking doughboys...only to have a metal claw jerk his arm up and cause Todd to blast an innocent ceiling tile.

            “Good morning to you, too,” grumbled Dib, taking to gun out of Todd’s limp hand as if it was normal to have naked, gun-wielding lunatics leap out at him. He glared at the still smoking weapon. “And just where the hell did this come from?”

            “Knowing you, Dib,” snorted the extremely attractive owner of the other voice. “It’s probably yours. You probably took gun out while you were using the bathroom, forgot all about, and just left it laying there.”

            Forcing a pleasant grin, Dib flip her off. “Fuck you.”

            “No thanks.” Turning to Todd, she smiled prettily at him and flicked her hair cutely. He idly noticed that it was dyed a very pretty shade of purple. “Sorry about barging in like this, Mister Casil, but it's rather urgent. My name's Zita, I'm here on behalf of the government to make you a very special offer.”

            Before Todd could even react, Dib caught hold of the girl's arm and dragged her toward the door. “No, you are leaving now Zita and you can tell Major Rankle that Todd isn't going to be attending his precious Academy. Ever.”

            “Whoa! Wait one minute here!” Todd barked, stepping between Dib and the girl. “Maybe I'd like to hear what she has to say.”

            “Trust me,” muttered Dib. “You don’t want it. And as the attending physician in your case, I’m saying that it’s in your best interest not to do anything to cause yourself excessive stress. In fact, if I were you I wouldn’t even bother listening to her offer.”

            “Well, I’m not you. And it's not your decision to make, Dib.”

            They locked in a tense stare-down, neither one willing to break off. It was only when Dib's cell phone rang that he threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine. Do whatever you like! But I'm telling you, you're making a huge mistake.”

            “What the hell's his problem?” Todd muttered when Dib moved out of earshot to take the call.

            Zita laughed in that pretty, airy way only the extremely popular kids could laugh. “Oh, he’s just pissed off about those Mysterious Mysteries’ guys. They keep asking to do an interview and he’s being such bitch about the whole thing.”

            “Oh god...” moaned Todd, raising a hand to cover his face. “I don't wanna be paraded around like a circus freak!”

            “Don't worry! It's got nothing to do with you,” Zita giggled, patting his arm reassuringly. “See, there's this guy named Zim and...”

            “...Dib almost killed him,” finished Todd quietly, quickly catching a mental glimpse of a very badly disguised alien. He could also see, playing in his mind like a scene form some cheap action movie, the alien picking a fight with the paranormalist and getting viciously beaten for it. But instead of smug triumph for Dib, Todd sensed a horror mingled with regret…and something a bit more disturbing…

            “And it’s got him scared now.” Todd muttered absently, forgetting all about Zita for a moment as he prodded a little deeper into Dib’s mind. “He’s scared that they've found him out… He’s afraid of the truth...”

            “What? That Zim's an alien?” There was that laugh again. “Oh, please! Zim's just some psycho with a skin condition! Besides, aliens don't exist.”

            “Yes they do!” Todd snapped back. “Aliens do exist! I've seen them! I was even taken aboard a fucking UFO and they did things to my head and….and...” He stopped mid-rant when he noticed Dib was glaring at him from across the room. For a brief moment, Todd saw that the left side of Dib's face was now a torn mass of flesh with an eye that gleamed unholy red.

            “You okay?” Zita asked

            “Fine! Just fine...” Todd shook it off and blamed this sudden flash of premonition on a trick of light and all the meds they must have been feeding him. Turning back to her, he smiled broadly. “So, what did you want to talk about again?”

            “Oh! I almost forgot! Like I said before, I was sent here to make you a very special offer, Todd.” She giggled, touching his shoulder again. This time, her fingers linger just a bit too long to be merely friendly. “You don’t mind if I call you Todd, do you?”

            “Eh, no. Not at all.”

            “Okay…Todd.” She said his name in way that made him feel awkward but interesting-and interested. “What would you say if I told you that for the last thirty years the government has been recruiting people with psychic powers and training them to be part of a top-secret elite military unit? You know: remote viewers, telepaths, and all that sort of thing.”

            “I’d say that sounds…neat? Like some kind of movie.” Todd replied hesitantly, unsure if this was just leading into yet another horrible joke at his expense.

            “Now what would you say if I told you that, from what we’ve been able to observe, you would be a perfect candidate for the project.”

            “But I’m not psychic. At least, I don’t think I’m a psychic…”

            Zita laughed. “Don’t be modest. For someone with no prior training whatsoever, you’re one of the most power telepaths I’ve ever seen! Why, you’re the first person I ever seen able to produce ectoplasmic manifestations without any training at all! With the right kind of guidance, you have the potential to become one of the greatest agents in the history of the Institute! Who knows? You might even surpass—”

            There was a loud snap as Dib shut his cell phone and came over to them.

            “Sorry to interrupt,” he hissed, not sounding sorry at all. He held out a large shopping bag to Todd “I think you might want to put these on. You must be freezing your ass off.”

            It took Todd a second to figured out what Dib was getting at, then he realized that he'd been standing there the whole time talking to an extremely attractive girl stark naked. Flushing in humiliation, he clutched the bag protectively to over himself and bolted into the bathroom. He noticed that Zita looked rather disappointed.

            He barely had one leg in his pants when someone snickered behind him, “That girl’s hitting on you.”

            Yelping, Todd staggered and almost fell. He turned an icy glare on Mister Eff, who sat on the sink kicking his stubby little feet. “What the hell are you talking about?”

            “That girl was flirting with you,” repeated the doughboy in that condescendingly slow way reserved for the terminally stupid. “Looks like she's got the hots for you.”

            “Yeah,” grumbled Todd while he finished getting dressed. “Zita's real interested in me...as far as getting me to go to this academy, that is.”

            Mister Eff chuckled nastily. “Oh, she's more than just professionally interested. Even a brain-dead squirrel would've noticed the way she kept staring at you.”

            “Well I'd be staring too if some crazy naked man came running out of the bathroom waving a gun around!”

            “For fuck's sake!” the doughboy hissed angrily. “That girl wants you, Todd! She wants you bad. And you know what to do next...”

            “Tell her that I'm very flattered?”

            Mister Eff slapped his forehead. “No dumbass! GET FUCKING LAID!”

            For a long while, Todd only stared at him blankly. “Are you suggesting that I have sex with a girl I've just met just because she's attractive and seems to be hitting on me?”

            “Yes, Einstein! That’s exactly what I'm telling you to do! Now kick Dib out so you can bone her!”

            “But you keep telling me to go fuck Pepito,” Todd snapped, feeling confused and frustrated.

            “No, you putz! I told you to rape the demonic little shit.”

            “What's the difference?!”

            “Rape is not about the sex. The sex act is just a means to an end! It's about the power. It's about having total control of your victim, humiliating and torturing them. It's about putting that arrogant runt in his goddamn place!” The doughboy paused then sulkily added, “And I noticed you still haven't done that yet.”

            Todd glared at Mister Eff in disgust. “Okay. You know there's so much wrong with what you just said that...well, words fail me. Besides, what makes you think that I wanted to rape Pepito? Maybe I actually like him. Who knows? Maybe I'm not even into girls...”

            “I cannot believe this...” groaned the doughboy. “Do you really believe that bullshit?! I happen to know you’re attracted to her in a sexual way. But, oh no! You just can’t go with it, can you? You're gonna pass up the chance to nail a smoking hot babe because you can't make up your mind whether or not you're a fucking fagot?!”

            “I'm not gay.” was all Todd could manage back.

            “Then why aren't you trying to tap that ass?

            “So, I should fuck her simply because she’s attractive and flirting with me?” rasped Todd as he slipped the gun into the back of his waistband, hiding it under his shirt. “I hardly know this girl. All I’m sure of, besides the fact that she’s very pretty and isn’t treating me like moldy dog-shit just yet, is that her name is Zita and she’s here on behalf of the government.”

            “That’s good enough. I mean, people have fucked knowing less than that!”

            “But I don’t want some filthy, sleazy one night stand! I want my first time to mean something. I want it to be… to be… I just don’t want it to be that way, alright?!”

            Mister Eff rolled his eyes, lips curled in disdain. “Whatever, fagot.”

            Realizing it was pointless to keep arguing with the yeasty little shit; Todd threw up his hands and left the bathroom. It was only then that he noticed that the clothes Dib gave him seemed oddly snug, especially around the butt.

            “Uh, I don’t mean to be ungrateful or anything,” Todd began then he looked down at the shirt he was wearing. “HOLY FAT JESUS ON A POGO STICK! IS THIS A SILK-SCREEN OF THE POSTER FOR FRITZ LANG’S METROPOLIS?! WHERE THE HELL DID YOU FIND THIS?!”

            “The Internet. I thought you might like one considering all the B-movie stuff you collect.”

            Still squeaking happily, Todd latched onto Dib in a fit of geeky joy. “Oh God! This is the coolest thing anyone has ever— Wait. How did you know that?” He angrily shoved the other boy away and glared at him with a rage-fueled paranoia. “I never said anything about liking old movies! You…you were in my house! You went through my things! How could you? I trusted you!”

            “Would you calm down?” muttered Dib, completely unruffled by the outburst. “I was only trying to find some decent clothes for you to wear. Of course, if you really want to walk down the street in a hospital gown with you ass hanging out…”

            “At least it wouldn’t give me a freaking wedgie,” Todd groused, tugging at his backside. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I appreciate you giving me this stuff, but I don’t think you got the right size…”

            “Actually, I did get the right sizes.” Before Todd could say anything, the paranormalist cut him off again. “Seriously, Todd. You really need to stop buying such baggy clothes. It’s not flattering on a guy with you build.”

            “He does have a point.” Zita giggled. “Besides, you’ve got too nice a butt to dress like a crazed hobo.”

            “Uh, thanks?” Todd muttered feeling clumsy and hot. He was starting to reconsider Mister Eff’s suggestion… Unfortunately, before Todd could even begin to act on that thought, Dib grabbed him around the shoulders and started to lead him out of the room.

            “Well, Todd,” began the paranormalist in a mocking brightness as he fiddled around with something on his watch. “It’s time for us to be going…”

            “Hey! What the hell are you do—” Before either Zita or Todd could react, Dib hooked his arm around Todd’s as he activated the miniature teleporter in his watch causing both boys to blink out of the hospital room. After a mercifully short journey through the stomach-churning psychedelics of subspace, Dib blinked them both back into normal space-time, sending Todd sprawling onto the pavement in the neon-bright night of some foreign city.

            “HOLY MOTHERFUCKING GOD!” gasped Todd as he staggered back to his feet. “WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?!”

            “I just teleported us to Tokyo,” Dib replied with a yawn, as if near instant trans-Pacific teleportation was normal as taking a little stroll along the sidewalk.

            “We’re in JAPAN?!” Panicked and furious, Todd collapsed onto a bus-stop bench and glared at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! Not only is this kidnapping, it’s also got to be breaking some kind of international law… Aren’t we supposed to go through customs? Shit! I don’t even have a fucking passport!”

            “Here.” With considerable indifference, Dib tossed him a large manila envelope. “There’s your passport, credit cards, proof of health insurance, the Psychic’s Code of Conduct, traveler’s checks, and all the rest, courtesy of the Military Institute for the Neutralization of Paranormal Horrors, Unnatural Catastrophes, and Kryptoids. M-I-N-D-P-H-U-C-K for short.”

            Todd looked up at him curiously. “Isn’t cryptoid spelled with a ‘c’?”

            “Actually the suffix crypto is derived from the Greek word kryptos – with a ‘k’— meaning ‘hidden’.”

            “Well, isn’t that pretentious?” hissed Todd, getting up and following Dib as the paranormalist started walking up the street. “Leave it to the government to create a mindfuck just to make something look ‘cool’ on the stationery.”

            “Don’t remind me…” Dib muttered with a bitter grimace. “If I’d had my way, it would’ve been the Mabuse Institute for Paranormal Research/Museum/Snack-bar.”

            “That’s were I’ve heard your name before!” squeaked Todd, hit by a sudden insight. “I was wondering why it seemed familiar…”

            “Yeah, well you’d be hard pressed to find someone who hasn’t heard of me or my family.” His expression darkened. “Especially my father.”

            “Whoa! I didn’t know that many people knew about Fritz Lang’s Dr. Mabuse, the Gambler.”

            Dib stopped dead in his tracks. “Huh?”

            “You are related to the infamous German criminal, right? The guy who use to hypnotize his victims for his own nefarious ends?”

            Dib stared at him. Time stretched between, a temporal string of discarded gum being pulled off the shoe of eternity. “I’m absolutely amazed that you don’t know who I am or who my father is but knew about a relatively obscure 1930’s German Expressionist horror film…”

            “Well, given the fact that you just teleported us to Japan, I kind of guess you're some kind of mad scientist who apparently specializes in paranormal investigation. Which is pretty cool and all, but it’s not like you’re some kind of superhero or something…”

            “Let me ask you something, Todd.” Dib muttered miserably. “Have you ever seen Buckaroo Bonsai?”

            Todd grinned, feeling much more confident now that they were discussing his specialty. “Of course!”

            “My life’s been like that since I turned thirteen.”

            “So you’re a super-genius inventor/brain-surgeon/rock star who fights aliens and interdimensional menaces? And I’m guessing you’ve also got hordes of groupies whose devotion to you borders upon a religious mania.”

            “Yeah. I’m all that, except for the…aliens,” he growled. “Because they don’t exist…” There was a small tic now, like the kind Johnny would get right before he’d launch into a murderous rant. “Besides, any interstellar race capable of light-speed space travel wouldn’t want to waste their time on this fucking dirtball.”

            Todd found himself glaring at the paranormalist, his tone shifting to that deeper voice again. “Dib, you and I both know that’s a load of bullshit. Aliens do exist, they routinely visit Earth, and those bastards cheerfully take advantage of humankind’s ignorance and stupidity about our true place in the Universe to mercilessly experiment on us like bunch of drooling lab monkeys just because they can get away with it. Then again, given all the morons running amuck on this miserable little planet, maybe we deserve to be treated like shit…”

            Dib laughed softly. “Damn… And here I thought I had a low opinion of humanity!”

            A cold silence fell between them as they continued up the street. After a few moments, Dib began casting subtle glances around, which seemed like he’d also realized they were being followed, before he suddenly ducked down a narrow alley. The paranormalist was walking so quickly now that Todd practically had to run to keep up with the gazelle like stride as Dib lead their invisible pursuers on a mad chase through the maze-like streets of Tokyo. They only stopped when Dib took a turn down a dead-end street.

            “…dammit…” Dib looked at the filthy wall in mild annoyance then turned to Todd. “You’d better let me handle this, Todd. Oh, and you might want to find something to duck behind…”

            “Who the hell are—AAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!”

            Todd squealed in terror as a band of sword-wielding bionic ninja burst out form nowhere and started attacking the pair. While Dib proceeded to effortlessly pulled off the most amazing wire-fu stunts imaginable against these high-tech kung-fu nightmares, Todd dodged and scurried around in blind fear as three of the ninja cyborgs backed him into a corner. He cowered against the wall as the ninjas close in….and then suddenly Todd remembered he had the gun.

            “*click* BLAM! whamp! *click* BLAM! whamp! *click*BLAM! whamp!”

            Abruptly, Dib and the other ninjas stop fighting as they all turn shocked stares at Todd, who is now standing over three dead ninjas with a smoking gun in his hand.

            “What?!” he cried, throwing his arms wide in confused frustration.

            One of the ninjas turned to Dib, barking out what Todd could only presume was a Japanese tongue lashing, and after Dib bowed low many times and gave him a very heartfelt apology, motioned for his fellow cyborg assassins to pick up their fallen. After they had vanished back into the shadows from whence they came, Dib went over to Todd.

            “I told you to let me handle it,” muttered the paranormalist as he gave the boy a sour look. “You’re just lucky they think you’re just another dumb sidekick, otherwise I have had to make you commit seppuku for breaking The Rules…”

            “Rules? What fucking rules?!” Todd barked angrily. “They were trying to kill me! It was self-defense!”

            Dib sighed. “I know, but that doesn’t make it any less dishonorable. One of the rules that everyone has to follow is that you’re not allowed to use firearms during a martial arts fight. Especially if you’re one of the heroes…”

            “But I’m not a hero! I’m just a normal guy! I’m not used to being recruited by top-secret government agencies, teleported half-way across the globe, and getting attacked by random bionic ninjas!” he shouted, feeling that curiously nasty throb in his head. Grinding his jaw, Todd forced himself to calm down before he continued. “Why did you bring me here?”

            “Oh! Sorry about that!” Dib looked sheepish now. “I forgot to tell you that I was taking you to see Doctor Don Ki Kong.”

            “Donkey Kong?” repeated Todd, staring at the paranormalist in bewildered horror as vision of twisted, anime style perversions flashed through his mind.

            Dib sighed again. “Yeah... Anyway, Dr. Don has volunteered his services since I’m on a rather tight schedule and he happens to be more than capable of hashing out a solution for your little problem. I mean, the man’s not only an expert on psychic phenomena but also a brilliant—if slightly amoral— bioengineer and geneticist, so I’d hope he’d at least be able to come up with a temporary fix.”

            “Genetics?! What does that have to do with all this poltergeist crap?!”

            “A lot, actually,” murmured Dib as they hurried down another alley. “But that’s not the only reason I’m taking you to see him. See, there’s also few little modifications we need to your body make before I hand you over to Rankle…”

            “Modifications…?” Todd looked warily at the paranormalist, who led him into a seedy looking basement massage parlor. “What the hell are you…Oh. My. God.” Stopping dead in his tracks, Todd stared at the pair of extremely attractive identical twins dressed in schoolgirl outfits at the front desk. He sincerely hoped that they were just done up in very convincing and very, very realistic cat-girl cosplay.

            “DIB-SAMA!!!!” mewled both as they happily leapt in the paranormalist’s arms.

            “Hi girls!” Grinning, Dib turned to the stunned boy. “Todd, this Fook Mi and she Fook Yu.”

            “But…but what about that Donkey Kong guy?” he stammered as one of the cat-girls slipped over to him, sniffing and cuddling against his body rather suggestively. “…do we really have time for this?!”

            “Oh don’t worry!” Dib hummed, walking over to what looked like some kind of funky vending machine that apparently sold ‘Used Schoolgirl Panties’ and slipped a card into it. “The girls are harmless… Well, unless you’re allergic to cat hair…” With a series of jabs at the keypad and a quick retina scan, the vending machine slide aside to reveal a tiny elevator into which Dib stepped. “Well, are you coming along or not?”

            “Um…right.” Extracting himself from the cat-girls, Todd hurriedly crammed in beside the paranormalist. Dib grinned broadly at him, stealthily copping a feel on Todd’s backside as the door snapped shut.

            “Comfortable? Good!” Without waiting for a reply, he slammed a button and the elevator rocked downwards at such a speed that Todd’s screams of terror had barely left his mouth before they came to an abrupt stop.

            “Fun ride, huh?” Dib smirked at the other boy as they squirmed out of the elevator. Giving him a glare, Todd followed as the paranormalist went down a cyberpunk hallway. Masked assistants in pristine white or green surgical uniforms dashed past them, disappearing into doorways with trays of strange instruments. Todd did his best not to think too hard about the odd sounds seemed to get swallowed up by the walls while Dib lead him further into the bowels of the mysterious Dr. Kong’s laboratory. Finally, they came to a rather understated office door.

            The door creaked open of it's own accord, revealing what Todd thought was a woman sitting at a rather spartan desk. At a gesture from Dib, he cautiously walked inside.

            “Hello, Mister Casil,” chimed the woman. “Please, sit down.”

           “Hello.” He lowered himself into one of the overtly functional chairs, darting nervous glances around the room. His gaze finally settled on the large pile of paperwork. “What's all that?”

“Just some release forms for legal reasons.” She pushed the pile toward him. “Now, if you'll simply fill in the relevant information in the spaces highlighted and sign them, we can get you prepped for initial treatment.”

Glancing over at Dib, who was angrily texting on his publicity agent, he nervously took offered stack of paper and started scribbling in the relevant places. It was around Form #337B-00t4 that Todd noticed something strange.

“What's this bit about 'possible random mutation'?”

Dr. Kong laughed it off. “It's just a little bit of legalese. Nothing to worry about!”

“Um...then what about this thingy talking about 'Chaos Gods'? I mean, it's asking me to pick between Khrone, Slannesh, Nurgle, Tzeentch, or just Chaos”

“Oh, it's just one of those silly little psych things. Just pick the one you'd like to serve...eh, learn more about!”

“Riiiiiiiiiight...” Frowning, Todd looked over the list again and tick a check in the box beside 'Chaos'. It wasn't like these 'little psych things' mattered, after all.

Once he finished, Dr. Kong snatched the papers away and skimmed them over.

“Good, good... Everything seems to be in order. Now, if you'll just take off your clothes and step onto the circle on the floor.” She pointed to the mark.

“What?”

“Just do as the- *ahem*-good doctor says, Todd.” Dib muttered, putting away his cell phone. “It'll be less painful that way. Besides, it isn't the first time today you've gone about buck naked in front of total strangers.”

Reluctantly Todd went over to the circle and stripped, handing his clothes over to a very attractive assistant who seemed to just materialize out of thin air. He froze up when he felt the circle start to sink into the floor, lowering him into a long coffin-like tube. With a wary interest, he watched as Dr. Kong and Dib walked into what Todd could only find himself thinking of as a really classy mad scientist's lab, the kind one would expect a Bond villain to come waltzing into. They were talking about something with a kind of cold detachment and kept glancing over at his tank...

'Well,' grumbled an eerie, uncomfortable voice. 'You do realize they're talking about you, right? Don't you know that you're just the latest guinea pig for them to experiment on?'

Todd tried ignoring it, rationalizing it away as just all the stress he'd gone through.

'Of course it just the stress. Just like it was just stress that drove a pen through that asshole's face or that almost empty a pistol into dear Dr. Mabuse over there...'It was hissing now, rasping through his brains like a nails on a chalkboard. 'Face it, Todd. You're becoming a monster. Might as well enjoy the benefits that come with all those spooky new powers you've been given.'

'I don't have any kind of powers... This, this is all just an awful mistake!'

There was that laugh. 'Don't bullshit me, little boy. I know what you're capable of. The question is, do you?”

'No, because I'm just a normal guy! Not a monster. I'm just... just...”

'Sick. That's what you were going to say, wasn't it? You're just sick. And they're only trying to make you better. I mean that's what doctors, right? They're suppose to cure the sick and fix broken things.'

'I'm not...I'm not broken.' Todd growled, unaware that the tube was filling up with a warm pink solution. 'And you-whatever the hell you are- you aren't real! This is all in my head. Just another symptom of...'

'Of the Sickness.' The voice said it in such a way that Todd could almost feel the word ooze and crawl deep down in his mind. 'It's trying to slip its leash again, as if it ever had its own will. The Sickness thinks that you'll let it go free. How...annoying.'

'I know I shouldn't ask, since you're just some kind of voice in my head and all, but what is this sickness thing? And how do I get rid of it?'

'Oh, don't worry about that right now. I'll take care of it later.'

The tube was completely filled now, but Todd still hadn't noticed it. Nor did he really noticed all the tubes and leads that snaked out and latched onto to his body.

'Eh, excuse me Mister Voice-in-my-head, but I think you owe me at least some explanation. Even if you are just a figment of my imagination, I'm pretty sick of all this cryptic bullshit.'

There was only the faint buzz of machinery.

'Hello? Are...are you still there?' He waited for an answer while a funny kind of drowsiness crept over him. Todd silently cursed at himself for believing that he'd get a reply. This had to be some kind of weird dream, he rationalized. He must've dozed off during lunch or something and started dreaming about monsters coming out of toilets and talking doughboys and...and...

Todd sleepily looked up and saw the pink-tinted blur that he was pretty sure was Dr. Kong. Funny thing was, she had a name that almost sounded like the lady doctor that was doing those sleep studies at the crazy house... But she was blonde, right? He closed his eyes for a moment then took another look at the doctor, noting how pale her hair was. And he could almost swear he was back in the padded room, all comfy cozy (as the orderlies would say) in the restraints.

Actually, now that Todd realized it, he really was sitting in the corner of that padded cell and bundled up in a straitjacket. There was that stain that looked kind of like Mel Brooks, the flaking paint on the bars, and even that same stale urine odor lingering. Which had always bugged Todd whenever the orderlies would blame him for it, because he'd figured out how to use the bathroom even with this damn straitjacket on. He'd even taught himself how to wipe and cut on the faucet using just his feet.

Feeling groggy, he lurched to his feet and staggered over to the door. The hallway was totally dark, which was weird because Todd could clearly see daylight coming through the window. Odd...he didn't remember the window being up so high before... Maybe he just never really noticed it before. God, he'd been cooped up in this cell for so long it was starting to drive him crazy. Well, crazier than before. And the dreams he'd been having lately. Maybe he ought to tell that nice doctor about them. He was sure she'd leave to hear about them...

~~To be continued...
- 7
- 8
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Here's Hoping for The Worst!