( Author's Notes: Well, here we are. The last chapter of what was intended to be a one-shot story. Really, I never did expect to brutally mutilate all the various types of JtHM!Sues, but your reviews and the sadist deep inside influenced me to continue. Thank you all so much; you guys are wonderful! Hopefully my later stories will have more content and will be better planned out than this one…and maybe I can actually find myself a beta for the future. Heh. Anyway, as always, enjoy! )
As consciousness slowly returned, Johnny could feel a certain warmth overwhelming him. Groaning, he sat up, rubbing his head. After a moment he managed to open an eye, the sight of a deserted city greeting him. A deep orange sky loomed overhead, and a hot breeze swirled the dust in the long-forgotten road. "Hell. Fantastic," he muttered. "I suppose I ended up killing myself again—"
"Not exactly." A deep, familiar voice cut him off. Turning around, Johnny looked up into the face of Mr. Satan, properly known as Señor Diablo. "Hello, Johnny. Nice to see you again, hm?"
"Peachy, Satan. Mind telling me why I'm here if I'm not dead?" Johnny said, standing up and brushing his clothes off. He threw the evil ruler a glare, knowing he was destined for this place sooner or later. He just thought that, you know, you weren't supposed to be here and still alive. It kind of defeated the purpose of the whole "life after death" situation. Mr. Satan chuckled slightly, irritating him further. "What? What's so funny?"
He looked down at Johnny, enjoying how short-tempered he was. "Oh, this whole situation. You see, normally we don't tell people what happens in these cases, but with how you are, and what happened…last time, we thought it would be a good idea. If we'd let this go on, you'd probably kill yourself again, and it's such a hassle to reinstall existence every time a flusher commits suicide."
"Cases? What cases?" Johnny pointed at Satan, who watched with an expression of mild boredom. "Does this have anything to do with those annoying little fucks I've been killing like flies lately?"
"Actually, yes. That's why you're here; I wanted to explain it all to you before you got out of control. Come on, I'll take you somewhere more appropriate to show you." He led Johnny out of the deserted district, into a more populated area. "As you know, these are the normal denizens of Hell. They all have huge, glaring flaws, which is why they're here."
A man across the street pushed his companion and pointed towards the girl he was accompanying, yelling something inaudible. The two promptly began to get into a fistfight, people crowding around to watch the spectacle. "Obviously. What's your point?" said Johnny.
Satan beckoned, leading Johnny away from the scene. "Of course, they're all normally from Earth. All humans there have their own flaws and problems, and the girls who found you didn't, correct? Well, you're here to find out why."
The two stopped in front of a large building, in the middle of the city. "'Sue Makers, Inc.'?" Johnny read, looking at the plaque on the building. "I'm still not getting it."
"You will inside. Come on," said Satan, pushing the door open. Johnny entered, and he followed, waving to the perky receptionist behind the front desk. "It's a tour, Karen. No need to sign in," he said.
They walked through a long stone hallway, lit by a few fluorescent lights hanging from overhead. There were doors here and there, but the largest one was rusted and bolted, made from steel with a "DANGER" sign plastered in clear view. "Here's where everything started, Johnny. The Mary Sue headquarters, it's hell in Hell. Here, put on this hard hat," Satan said, plunking a large, tacky yellow plastic hat on Johnny's head.
"I'm in Hell, I can't get hurt. I'll be fine when I become conscious again," Johnny said.
Satan shrugged. "They're still good for decoration." He opened the door and led Johnny inside, wincing at the sudden smell that permeated the room. "I can never get over how sickly sweet it smells in here. Come on."
He showed Johnny past several stations, shielded by concrete guards, with workers mixing several colored liquids into steel cauldrons. Fizzing sparks and clouds of smoke billowed when the ingredients were added, and a few explosions could be heard here and there. Satan stopped in front of a station near the center of the room, indicating a large shelf holding several bottles of the liquids and many canisters of powder. Now that he was closer, Johnny could see that each bottle and can had a label on it.
"Alright, Johnny, this is where the girls you met first started. They're called Mary Sues, and they were first created as a joke exclusive to Hell. You see, a lot of men were complaining about how they never could have the perfect woman while they were alive—it was mostly the ones who lusted after every whore they saw and cheated on their wives regularly. A few of them ended up getting together, and got some scientist that died in an explosion a couple of years ago. Too much messing around with those explosive elements," Satan said, waving his hand.
"So, these men eventually developed what was basically a sentient blow-up doll, if you will. Unfortunately, while they were somewhat intelligent in the scientific sense, they were none too bright with names. One of them was a hillbilly, I think. Anyway, the girl was named Mary Sue, and all was well, even if she was a bit lacking in brains. The men happily shared her, and she even made her way around Hell, charming everyone she met. Everyone loved her, but some of the smarter people knew she was a joke. Pretty soon, everyone wanted their own, and that's when the Mary Sue industry got pretty big. They became the pet rocks of Hell."
Johnny blinked. "If they wanted the perfect woman to fuck, why didn't they just buy a blow-up doll?"
"Don't interrupt, I'm on a roll," scolded Satan. "Anyway. Different people wanted different types of Mary Sues. The original creators tried to make more, but they couldn't handle all the orders they were getting. They eventually sold out to one of the biggest novelty production companies in Hell. They got a pretty good amount of money for the patent, too. I think they have a couple of condos and a yacht somewhere in the river Styx.
So, this new company began mass producing Sues, as they were nicknamed, for different personality types, using these liquids and powders to make compounds. For those who wrote lame poetry, wore black all the time, and drank nothing but five-dollar coffees, there was the Goth Sue model. For those who wanted nothing but happiness, sunshine, and diabetes, there was the Perky Sue model. For perfectionists, there was the Flawless Sue. For fanfiction writers, there was the Long-Lost Twin Sue." Satan indicated the different liquids used to create the Sues as he named them off, labeled as "angst," "sugar-high," and "drama," respectively.
"Mary Sues were huge. One of the best jokes ever, I believe. However, someone who was either drunk or just incredibly stupid and smart managed to create a rip between Hell and Earth one day. Someone else's Mary Sue managed to find the rip and, being the inquisitive creature she is, went to Earth, irritating the living. They had no idea what she was, but since they all look human, just passed her off as a severely annoying human."
Frowning, Johnny asked, "So why didn't anyone notice these things were missing?"
"Well, Mary Sue theft was pretty common. People too cheap to spend money would just steal it right off the street. Even though Mary Sues aren't expensive, now that they're mass produced, we've still got the penny pinchers and the people who throw away money like it's nothing," said Satan. "People just went out and bought new ones."
Johnny nodded. It was all starting to come together now. Since nobody could go look for them, they just left their Mary Sues to roam Earth, and eventually…a few loose ones ended up at his house. "Waiiiit…why didn't anyone find this rip?"
"You know how people move around here. It's in one of the deserted areas; we just have to find which one it's in," sighed Satan. "It's really starting to be a bother. Finding the thing could take years. Keep in mind that this whole Mary Sue and rip situation started about thirty-five years ago."
Whirling around, Johnny looked up at Satan. "This shit's been happening for thirty-five years and you haven't done anything about it?!" he yelled. "All this over some stupid joke?"
Satan shrugged again. "I, personally, found it funny."
"You really are cruel."
"Yes, well, that's what I'm supposed to be." Satan began making his way back towards the door, with Johnny in tow. They took off their hats and left them at the door and began walking back down the hallway. Suddenly, one last question sprang to Johnny's mind.
"So…what happened to the Mary Sues I found after I killed them?"
Satan shuddered. "They end up back here. Only they're now human and ten times more annoying than they used to be. You remember Raven? I found her and your old friend Jimmy enjoying each other's company in an alley."
Johnny suddenly felt the urge to retch. That was not the type of mental image he needed.
They were now back onto the main street, the door to the factory slamming shut behind them. Johnny squinted; the building was quite dark and the glaring outside light was jarring to him at first. "So, now that I'm informed…are they going to come back?" he said, sounding hopeful.
"Mmm, I'm not sure," said Satan. "They could. But sometimes Mary Sues move from place to place. Some of them are smart, so maybe since they've seen you dismember a few, they'll leave you alone now."
"I'll send you back home now," Satan said. "But, before you go, are you sure you wouldn't like to see a little…" A cloud of smoke suddenly appeared, and when it vanished, he stood there in cheerleader form. "…cheerleading routine?"
Johnny yelled, "Oh, hell no!"
Satan resumed his usual form. "Oh, you're so dull," he said. With those words, he pointed at Johnny, causing him to disappear in a cloud of smoke.
Back on Earth, Johnny was slowly starting to wake up. He winced as the noontime sun glared down upon him, making opening his eyes quite painful. Rubbing his head, he felt something sticky rolling down his forehead—blood. "Damn, I've got one hell of a headache…" he groaned. He struggled to stand up, gripping the lowest branch with his hand and slowly pulling himself to his feet.
Looking around, he could find no trace of Demonia or her sisters. Huh. I guess they really are gone. He looked down to see the contents of his Black Bag strewn all over the ground, the cheerleading roster blown atop of his bloodied knife. The image of Señor Diablo dressed in cheerleader garb suddenly returned, and he groaned, bending down to throw everything back into his bag. "That's it. I'm going to cheerleading practice. It's time to start killing them for fun again," he said, wiping the blood from his forehead and setting off for the high school.