|Todd Casil's the Name, Insanity's the Game
Author: Perfect-Wretched PM
What happens after poor Todd, formerly known as "SQUEE!" rots in the aslyum for a while? Rated M because I don't want to be sued for language and gore.Rated: Fiction M - English - Humor/Horror - Johnny C. & Squee C. - Chapters: 6 - Words: 4,795 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 6 - Follows: 4 - Published: 05-16-12 - id: 8121865
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: Disclaimer: I do not own JTHM or any of….uh…anything associated with it. Yeah.
"I'd like to go home." a voice quietly said, devoid of emotion and hope.
"They can't hear you." another replied tartly.
"I'd like to go home." the first repeated.
"No one's coming to help."
"Shut up, Schmee. I'd like to go home." the voice became tinted with melancholy and annoyance.
"Why do you keep saying that, Todd?"
"Because it helps me keep track of time." Todd mumbled. "It's hard, here. I don't know what time it is, and that makes me nervous. I'd like to go home."
"Couldn't you say something else?'"
"No. I'd like to go home."
The second voice sighed exasperatedly.
It was a small, padded room with the only source of light being the moon that shone in from the single barred window, beyond either of the speaker's reach. In the far corner, as far away from the window as the space allowed, was a young man.
His eyes were a muddy brown, and his hair was black and scraggly atop his head. The people who were supposed to take care of him cut it regularly, but it was much too short for Todd's liking. He was about 15 years of age, though if you'd have asked him, he wouldn't have known.
The asylum had a terrible year without enough funding, and so he wore tattered clothes instead of a proper straightjacket and strange boots that he refused to take off, insisting that if he did, someone important would be upset with him; someone he was both deathly afraid of and who he considered to be the only person left who cared.
They had been a gift to him the day he was admitted into the place, though they were much too big then. Now, they fit perfectly, and Todd was oddly proud to wear them.
"I would very much like to go home..." he whispered. Next to the door, just across from him, was an old, stuffed bear. It had been sewn together countless times, and obviously loved a little too much in its hayday; its nose all but rubbed off, its fur a dismal color of brown, and a dark stain on the front where there had been countless tears shed.
When Todd was younger, he used to talk to the bear constantly. He believed that the bear could speak back, and it often had disturbing ideas. Todd decided long ago that the habit was childish and attempted to break the habit. However, the trauma on his brain was too much to bear without something to soak it up, and in the place of the bear, a new person grew. He was small, and young, but old enough to have a full grip on sarcasm. His eyes and hair were the same color as the old bear's fur, his grin just as crooked. He was the new Schmee, and Todd believed that so long as the bear existed, so would he.
"Stop it." Schmee grumbled. "No one's listening."
"I don't want anyone to listen, Schmee." Todd explained. "I'm listening. And when I'm listening, I know what time it is."
"What time is it, then?" Schmee raised an eyebrow.
Todd lolled his head to look at Schmee blearily, his eyes darkened from lack of sleep.
"Time to leave this place, Schmee." he said finally. "Time to go home."
Schmee laughed cruelly. "That's not the first time you'd said that, Todd. And it hasn't happened yet."
"It will." Todd lolled back to look out the window. "I'd really like to go home..."
A/N: Fun fact: both The Baku's Servant and Todd Casil and the Insane Game are from my original fanfiction-writing site which is actually a blog. I'm just transferring it. Review and stuff.