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His throat was twisted and searing, collapsing his body in on itself. Unexpected dry heaving wasn't on his to-do list today. Several aches clawed around his mortal shelf of a being, disturbing the otherwise gratifying interaction with himself.
Two fingers were coated with a thick layer of saliva, and the aftermath of his own actions. Revolting at best, satisfying would be the more likely answer. To be satisfied is to be tossed around in his own head, not enough going on to tear him back to this life in reality.
Johnny tremoured unwillingly, clawing at the rim of his porcelain sink. Grime covered both inside and out of it, although it never bothered him. The horribly dim lighting shielded his eyes from seeing what these surfaces looked like in all their rancid glory. His past in this house, living in this booth of blood and dirt was now etched away into places he would never see. As long as he never cared for memories far in the past, he wouldn’t be comforted with the reminder here.
It almost didn’t cross his foggy, cell-bare mind to wash the acidic vomitus out of sight. Just the smell alone made him gag once more, although it wasn’t his biggest worry. That was what he had to live with on the daily, the utter disgust of living in this place. May it be since birth, Johnny couldn’t recall, nor did he care. There truly was no out, during no point could he escape his life as it is.
Very little brought pleasure to the man anymore.
The faucet bubbled before letting out the hard, mineralised water. All the care he didn’t give to the maintenance of his house came to bite him in the behind. Not saying that was a first, on any account.
As the water diluted his bodily cocktail, it did very little more. His drain was coated in thick layers of grease, blood and previous incidents, clogging it to an abysmal level.
He shouted an aggressive curse, throwing his hands back in the air, eyes tacked to the sight. Treating this incident like some living person had done this to him. The only one who had any fault was himself, but he couldn’t be one to accept this fact. In his life, he’d always suffered at the hands of the immature, humans so disgusting it made the pride he held for his pastimes inflate with superiority. Being the one to rid the world of these things was his biggest accomplishment in this sad, torturous life.
Last time something like this had happened, Johnny had kicked the sink with a great force. It had cracked and left a leaky spot in the side. He almost knew better than to do this again. If not for the berating voice in the back of his head, he would have continued by beating his own sink to hell and back. As usual, not even he let himself have any fun.
This moment was completely ruined, the only thing to do now was to sulk, maybe kill himself a little. More likely someone else. His stupid plumbing would kill someone. If objects could have feelings, his disgustingly selfish sink should be the first to weep.
There was no point in leaving himself to the flies for now. He was completely over and done with this period of the day, and carry on he would. What Johnny the Homicidal Maniac chooses to do as fun in his spare time, besides killing people, was a mystery to even Johnny himself.
It was quite simple to decide on what he wanted to do at the moment. This house had nothing more for him, not anything urgent or interesting in the slightest. He was feeling quite hungry after the whole ordeal, so he took to plodding out the door, directed towards whatever convenience store was closest. He aggressively noted the direction of Taco Hell, making well sure he didn’t step foot near that ragged place. In fact, he went the complete opposite direction. Screw being the closest, he needed the safest. Truly a miserable experience last time he had to put up with eating there.
Unlucky for the depressing psychopath, the very next block he dared to turn on was viciously unforgiving. A small, disgusting child was lurking on the wall of a cheap building, clearly left behind by some overly validated mother.
Johnny scrunched his nose at the sight, physically and dramatically recoiling from the horrible thing. There was a glob of snot above it’s lip, with a face that resembled mangled roadkill he spotted once. It’s clothes were in no better shape. However long this thing had been waiting was clearly enough.
Briefly, if just for a moment, he thought of his neighbour Squee. Only before the thing had burst into tears once it spotted Johnny. No neighbour of his was allowed to be so loud. It rattled his ears, and would most certainly get on his feeble nerves if he had to listen to it for any longer duration of time. He slapped both scrawny hands over his ears, to try and drown out the sound.
His earlier thought was almost insulting to the poor Squee child next door. Obviously, it’d be a waste of himself to try and comfort this fat thing, who frankly didn’t deserve any satisfaction from Johnny.
To much of his own disappointment, what looked to be the mother stepped in-front of Johnny before he could try anything. She eyed him down one of those caustic glares, one surely used to force children into good behaviour. And to ward off agitating men, apparently.
Unlike usual, he accepted the interaction without so much as a fight. The sun was only just gracing the city with its absence, humans still infested the streets like maggots on a carcass. In no way did they pose a threat to him, but imagining the aftermath of acting rash to this woman put horribly exhausting thoughts into his head.
With one last unreciprocated side eye, he continued down the street. His hoodie was pulled tight against his head, hiding his face from the near public. Being out so close to these miserable alley rats was uncomfortable at best. He’d better make this quick, before something terrible and unforgiving happens.
After avoiding as many filth rats as he could, the gas station eventually made it's way into his hoodie-obscured vision. A spark of something started to bubble deep inside of him. He padded up to the store of choice, which ended up being a well lit gas station. There weren’t any rogue humans about. If not perfect, then this was the only time to have come.
The isles stretched in a highly familiar form. He couldn’t contain his joy, it seeped out of the well defined cracks in his personality. No time was wasted as he practically bounded up to the brain-freezie machine, creepily staring up at the flavour options like one of those stray kids. Of course he didn’t need to see the options before choosing, cherry was the only thing he consumed nowadays. He craved the cherry brain-freezies like some kind of drug. Nobody would bat an eye if they were abhorrently laced with something evil and addictive.
Since it was long before the fateful hour of 2am, no the store did not learn from previous experiences, he was able to purchase his treat with very little setback. The green note passed over the counter was crumpled and stained with blood, but the employee couldn’t care less. That was one of his favourite things about these places. It almost brought him a little hope. Keyword is almost.
Johnny left that place with very few complaints. Sure, there could be quite the lot if he wanted to think about it, but none so apparent it made him feel like murdering somebody, which was rare.
The relentless hole that had been clawing at his stomach was filled comfortably with the chilly drink. Earlier he’d attempted some different piece of junk for the first time in two weeks, but it hadn’t gone the way he expected. All that was good in his world was cherry brain-freezies, and that would be alright.
On his way back, he passed the baby once more. Who knows where the mother went. This time he gave it a kick.