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Wall	By : Jadewidge Category: Comics > Johnny the Homicidal Maniac Views: 2861 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Wall
- 1
A/N: Takes place before issue #1, a little thing. I just had an urge... (This is also on FF.net under another penname.)
Disclaimer: I don’t own it.

Wall

He sat in the well used spin-chair. Arms dangling over the arm rests, body slouched low and head tilted back. He rocked the chair back and forth slowly, it creaked when he took it to the left.
"This is always how it is." His voice was oddly soothing, deep and very dark.
The two people behind him tried to exchange looks. Their bodies were bound and they were gagged. They had been duct-d tod to the couch they sat on and their heads braced to face forward.
"I don't suppose it's all your fault. This place infects people, when they're little. Makes them something they don't have to be." Rock right, rock left *squeak*, right, left *squeak*. "It's a sickness I suppose. But there is a point when it becomes your fault. When you know there is a difference and you don't change for it."
The pair were a couple that had been out on a romantic walk. The male of the pair had see a skinny figure walking past as he was 'making his move'. He had honestly thought the guy was peeping on them.
"I wasn't doing anything you know." Left *squeak*. "Just walking." Right.
The girl whimpered, her mascara was running.
"You couldn't just wait, could you? You had to hurry up. Take it all now." Left *squeak*, right. He started rocking faster now. "And then you had to think that *I* was sick enough to *watch* you! Of all the idiot, degrading things!" His thin arms went up and slammed back down on the arm rests. No more squeak. He had fallen silent.
The guy was sweating. Man, all he'd wanted was a quick score, not this!
The man in the chair got up. His hair was spiked wildly, he was insanely thin and the back of his shirt said 'Do Not Taunt' in crooked letters. He turned around showing disturbing eyes, as he walked his boots creaked. The cloven pattern of the boots clicked on the hard wood floor.
"I'll have to show you how I am. What you tampered with. Just who you accused!" There was the sound of thin metal being pulled out of leather.
The girl started to cry hard. The guy kicked and screamed around his gag feeling the searing pain in his stomach.
The enraged man screamed profanity and insults as he worked. The girl closed her eyes and cried feeling the splatters of blood land on her. When her boyfriend stopped screaming and struggling she knew he was dead.
She felt the brush of a thin cold hand just before the sting of tape being ripped from her mouth. Her eyes shot open. She couldn't see the remains but she could smell them. "Oh God!"
His head tilted to the side. "If you knew who you called to you'd be praying to the trees." He grabbed her chin and forced her to look him in the eye. "Would you have let him? Let him do that to you?"
"I, I don't know." She managed quietly between sobs.
"Worthless." He said letting her face go. He tested the braces on the sides on her head. "Only one use for you now." He disappeared out of her sight. She heard him banging around.
"Please, let me go, I promise I won't tell a soul!" She cringed at his short harsh laugh.
"Never tell a soul! Never tell!" He heard her cry out he grabbed her hair. "You would have only bred another pathetic excuse for a Human."
She gasped at the feel of cold steel on her neck.
"You will serve a purpose." He said quietly, the steel tapped against her neck. She felt something being placed I her lap. "There is a wall. That needs what you have."
She gurgled and was thrown forward.
"Feel better that you have a reason to die."
He waited as the bucket filled. Not much, but enough. The wall would be fed, he could rest.
The bodies could be disposed of later. He lugged the stained bucket down a flight of stairs doing his damndest to not spill it. He 'painted' the wall with a wide brush while it was still good to use. Before it turned to gel.
He rubbed the back of his hand along his chin, causing a smear of blood he probably wouldn't notice for a while. Not that it mattered.
The Wall was happy, it sent out the same contentment to its slave. Working like a drug that the gangly human was addicted to. Not that it would really notice it was being controlled unless something else happened.
This particular slave was an emotional time bomb. Mostly Anger and Resentment anything else might break the bond.
The slave, 'Nny' as it preferred to be called, tossed the sticky brush to the side. It was going to leave. Let it. It would not be needed again for some time yet.
Johnny trudged up the stairs feeling, well, feeling okay. He scratched some dried blood off his arms and pulled on an old coat. He opened the front door noticing a U-Move truck next door. The neighbors were moving out.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and made his way to his car. He wondered what mindless neighbors he would get next time. Not that he wanted to think about it, he was more in the mood for a movie. Maybe Kafka again.
- 1
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