Author's Note: Hey there! I meant to upload this sooner, but I had a new idea for the ending and wrote more x] I think this may be one of the longest chapters I have written for this story. Since I'm on summer vacation, I'm going to try to upload more frequently. Before I forget, a picture I saw on a JtHM music video on youtube inspired me to write this chapter a while back. Unfortunately, the video was removed. It was a picture of Nny as a child with the Doughboys' shadow behind him. If you see it, please PM me the link. I feel like I should give credit to the artist. I don't have much to say today. How about you, Johnny? Any words for the readers out there?

Nny: You take a long time to write chapters for this.

Me: *sigh* Yes, I know. Hey, want to do the disclaimer?

Nny: Not really.

Me: Pretty please?

Nny: Fine. The Girl Who Questions Sleep does not own anything but the plot and some OCs.

Me: Enjoy!

Johnny woke up at the crack of dawn. Unlike most children, he did not try to fall asleep again. He kind of enjoyed waking up early. It gave him more time to do as he pleased. However, today was not a normal day. He felt awfully depressed over his parent's death. It had only been a couple of days since they left this world. All he wanted to do was curl up into a ball under his bed sheets and sob a river, but he had to be strong. Deep down, he knew that his parents would hate to see him like that. What if they could see him? He didn't want to break their dead heart. He forced himself to sit up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Taking in a deep breath, he stretched his arms over his head.

He got out of bed and walked over to his dresser. He searched through the drawers and picked out his outfit for the day. He pulled on a black and white striped, long sleeved, tailed shirt and black jeans. He sat down by his bed and grabbed his black, knee high, steel-toed boots. Swiftly, he pulled them on and got up.

Johnny walked over to the bathroom to run a brush through his blue-black hair. It didn't take long to fix his hair. It stuck out in odd angles naturally, and that's just the way he liked it.

As quiet as a phantom, he walked downstairs. He did not want to risk waking up Vera. Just as he suspected, Vera was sprawled on the couch, completely intoxicated. A bottle of whiskey sat on the coffee table near the couch. Johnny's nose wrinkled at the pungent smell of alcohol. How he hated that vile smell! He shook his head in disappointment. His aunt looked pathetic in that state. At that moment, he swore to himself that he will never let any substance get the best of him. He sighed and went back upstairs to his room.

Once in his room, Johnny plopped down onto his bed and lay there, utterly bored. There was not much for him to do in this building he was forced to call "home". He began to think of things he could do. If he didn't think of something soon, he knew he would burst into tears. After pondering for a moment, he decided he would draw.

Johnny got up to find his folder full of blank paper and his pencil box. As he walked over to his dresser, he noticed his calendar on the wall. He paused to examine it. It was October 8th, his birthday. Johnny was now eight years old. He sighed and sat on the floor. This was his first birthday he would be spending without his parents. His eyes were beginning to glisten with fresh tears. Just as they were about to fall, something shiny caught his eye. Wiping his eyes, he turned his head to see the object. It was a knife.

Johnny crawled towards the knife in curiosity. He sat down in front of it and inspected the knife. The bottom of the blade was curved. The handle was blue and had a smiley face. He started to reach for the knife, but he stopped himself.

No, Nny, it's dangerous, Johnny told himself. But what else can I do with it, watch it from a distance? Yes, I suppose that will do.

Johnny just sat there and observed it with fascination. Almost immediately, he thought of his deceased parents.

I wonder if that evil girl owns knives like that one. I wonder how sharp that is. I would touch it, but didn't Daddy say, "Curiosity killed the cat"?

"Now, Eff?" Psycho-Doughboy whispered.

"Now," Eff whispered back with a malicious smile on his face.

Two short, shadowy figures peeled themselves from the shadows in the small room. They were as black as a void and colder than Antarctica. Their eyes were glowing white orbs. They walked over to Johnny and stood behind him.

"That's right child, pick it up," one of the shadows coaxed.

"There are some people who need it, Johnny." Johnny looked over his shoulder and gasped. He ran to the back of the room and pressed his back against the wall.

"Who… who… are… y-you two?" he asked pointing a tremulous finger at them. Johnny could not make out what the two shadows were. They looked so familiar, yet he couldn't place his finger on it. Wait, yes he could. They looked like the shadows of the mascot for that one company, the one that makes muffins. Yes, they even had chef hats. But what were they doing in his room?

"Oh, Johnny, you have nothing to fear. We are only here to fill that emptiness in your heart. We will never do such a thing as to harm you, for we know how much pain you are in. Consider us to be an antidote to this pain and loneliness," said the shadow on the right.

"Oh yes, Johnny, only we will be much more than that. Won't you be our friend?" said the other. Johnny hesitated.

"Well… it would be nice to have friends…" Johnny said as he began to go deep into thought. The shadows walked towards him.

"Yes, yes it would, wouldn't it, Johnny?" The shadow on the left said. "It can get quite lonely out in the world."

"Wait a minute," Johnny said as he snapped back into reality. He glared at the shadows with suspicion. "How do you know my name?"

"Well, it's a bit of a long story," the shadow on the right said as he rubbed the back of his head.

"Long story short, we live here too!" the other shadow exclaimed happily.

"Does my aunt know you're here?" Johnny questioned.

"No, but that's what made this room so perfect. She rarely came into this room. People would freak out if they saw two shadows walking around and talking to each other," one of the shadows replied.

"I suppose you have a point..." Johnny mumbled.

"Hey, we didn't tell you who we are; how rude of us! Before we continue our little conversation, why don't we introduce ourselves? My name is Mr. Fuck, but "fuck" is such a dirty word. You may call me Mr. Eff or simply Eff," said one of the shadows.

"Yes, and my name is Psycho-Doughboy, or D-Boy for short," said the other shadow.

Johnny relaxed a bit and sat down on the floor.

"Um… hi, Mr. Eff and D-Boy. Um… you can call me Nny if you want," he replied.

"Nny, huh? Not bad; I like it. Anyway, back to our discussion," Mr. Eff said. "You said it would be nice to have friends, and we agree."

"Just think about it, the only friend I have is Mr. Eff and I'm his only friend. And all you have is your teddy bear and that bitch downstairs," Psycho-Doughboy reasoned. Mr. Eff elbowed him in the arm and glared at him. "Whoops, potty mouth! Please excuse my language. As I was saying, we would like it if we had another friend, and- if we are correct- you need another friend in this world too. What do you say, boy?"

Johnny looked down at the floor and pondered. He didn't have a friend that he could have a conversation with, and his aunt is not a pleasant person. He looked up at the shadows.

"Okay," he replied with a smile.

"Splendid! Now tell us, why are you so very depressed?" Mr. Eff asked gently. Johnny stood up abruptly and crossed his arms.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said in an angered tone. Tears once again threatened to spill from his dark brown eyes.

"Oh come on, Nny. We only ask because we want to know you better. You can tell us anything. We are here for you, boy." D-Boy said. Johnny sat on his bed and sighed.

"It's a long story," he whispered.

"We have all the time in the world, Johnny," Mr. Eff assured.

Johnny lied down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He told them everything: the night his parents were brutally murdered, the next morning when Vera picked him up, how Vera hated him, his loneliness, and how he was spending his birthday without his parents. The doughboys listened to every single word the boy spoke.

"It appears that you have been through a lot in a matter of a couple of days. This is why we are here, to help you feel better," Mr. Eff said reassuringly. Johnny wiped his tears away.

"Thank you. It feels like it's been forever since I had someone to care for me," Johnny said. "By the way, how did you find this place?"

"Well you see, we roam around and blend in with natural shadows. There has never been a reason for us to stay at one place. We just happened to be here when you arrived," D-boy explained.

"Guess I got lucky," Johnny said with a small smile.

"Yes you did, Johnny. But it seems that we have gone off topic since the first time we spoke to you," Psycho-Doughboy said.

"Very off topic," Eff agreed. "You see, just like your aunt downstairs, there are people in the world who just take up space on the planet. They are just not needed here. Their lives are just a waste. All they bring upon the human race is pain and misery. You have seen a good example of this, Nny. This is why we need you to eliminate the scum around you."

"I don't know. Am I the right person for this? I'm only eight."

"Nonsense, you are the perfect person for the job," Psycho-Doughboy assured him.

"If you say so… How do I do that?"

"Easy, just end their life," Mr. Eff said a bit too cheerfully. Johnny's eyes went wide.

"You want me to kill people?" he exclaimed. He jumped out of his bed and started to step back away from them, but his back hit the wall.

"Oh Johnny, it's not like you will take innocent souls away," Mr. Eff explained. Johnny looked uncertain and his body was tense with fear.

"Johnny, because of these filthy souls inside masses of flesh, your parents are gone. You can prevent that from happening to another child," D-Boy said. It was obvious in his tone that he was trying not to speak harshly to the boy. Johnny stepped away from the wall and sat down on the floor. He started to ponder about what the Doughboys had said.

"I don't know; killing is a bad thing to do."

"Not when you are eliminating bad people. We would do it ourselves, but we are just not strong enough. And don't worry: we'll help you learn how to spot the bad people," said Mr. Eff.

Johnny was tempted to say yes. How nice it would be to stop people from murdering others. And who knows, he might even have a chance at killing the girl who took his parents' lives.

"I'll do it," Johnny whispered, donning a dark, mischievous smile.

Sitting on a blood stained couch, a possessed rag doll watched the television with an unamused expression. The doll had long black and red yarn for hair and scarlet buttons for eyes. She donned a black silk dress with wide sleeves, a corset top with red ribbon, and a hem that brushed the floor. On her feet were black leather shoes. She was about to turn the TV off when an interesting news report popped up. Her eyes widened with interest and the stitch line that was her mouth curled up into a baleful smile.

"Alice, come here and watch the news with me!" the rag doll shouted in a slightly enthusiastic tone.

"Don't tell me what to do," a redheaded girl snarled under her breath as she climbed up the final steps from the basement. Her fiery hair, porcelain skin, and clothes contained stains of fresh blood.

"Whatever," the doll replied with a scowl. "Pardon me for thinking you would like to see one of your murders on the news."

"One of my murders?" Alice asked. Her eyes lit up with attentiveness. She immediately ran over to the couch and plopped down next to her rag doll.

"Is that not what I just said?" the doll asked in an annoyed tone.

"Oh, goodie! Which one, which one?" Alice asked with the excitement of a child.

"Just shut up and watch the TV," the doll hissed.

Alice pouted and turned her attention to the glowing screen. The serious attitude of the news reporters never failed to amuse her.

"Two days ago, the bodies of a young couple were discovered in their bedroom. The bodies are reported to be the corpses of Marisol and Johnathan Cheshire..."

The pictures of the now deceased couple that appeared on the screen confirmed that the reporters were informing their viewers of her most recent act of homicide. With a sigh, Alice closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Nelly, may you please change the channel. I do not want to relive this one," she asked in a soft voice.

"Why not?" the rag doll asked in bewilderment. "You always like to watch the news coverage of your murders!"

"Yeah, when the so called "victims" aren't innocent," she responded. "I killed that couple because I was desperate to find blood..."

"Oh, come on! Everyone is guilty of something!" Nelly reasoned.

"No, there are virtuous people out there!" Alice shouted. "I bet this couple was an example of fine citizens..."

"Well, maybe you'll find out if you just watch the damn TV!" Nelly yelled as she began to lose her temper.

"Fine..." Alice mumbled. She returned her attention to the television.

"...The motive of the crime is unclear. Both victims did not have a criminal record and were locally known for being a peaceful pair..."

"SEE!" Alice shouted as she stood up and pointed to the screen. "I was right!"

"Oh, shut the hell up. Think of them as being heroes for saving us from being mauled by IT," Nelly grumbled. She returned her gaze to the screen.

"I hate you," Alice muttered. She rested the back of her head on the couch and closed her eyes.

The dull reporters went on. However, Alice blocked out every word they spoke. She did not want to hear what they had to say about the innocent couple. The words would just make her feel even guiltier than she already felt. She began to think of her unfinished homework when she felt something tug incessantly at the purple sleeve of her shirt. She opened one eye to see Nelly tugging her sleeve with one hand and pointing to the TV with another.

"Hey, Alice, who's that kid?" the doll asked with a puzzled expression on her face.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Alice grumbled. She opened her other eye and looked over to the screen.

"...To add to the tragedy, Mr. and Mrs. Cheshire left behind their eight year old son..."

Alice sat up straight and watched the screen attentively. The television showed a picture of a little boy with big brown eyes and blue-black hair. She stood up and stepped closer to the screen to get a closer look.

"N-Nelly?" she croaked. She lifted up a tremulous hand and pointed a finger at the television. "Did I hear that correctly?"

"About the child?" Nelly asked with slight confusion.

"Yeah... that..." Alice replied in a tremulous voice.

"Oh," Nelly said as her lips slowly curled into an evil grin. "Then yes, you did hear correctly."

"No, no, no," Alice whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head in disbelief. "No, this can't be happening..."

"Oh, but it is, my dear Alice," Nelly said with a manic giggle.

Clutching her head, Alice began to shake her head violently. The news finally sank in. She could feel the room begin to spin and her knees grow weak. Whimpers of fright began to escape her lips. She did not fear the consequences of her actions. Even if she wanted to, she could not get caught. Instead, she feared the monster that she was becoming.

Alice fell to her knees and hung her head with sorrow. Her red hair hung over her face like a veil. She bit her lip to hinder herself from sobbing. Because of her crime, she had left an innocent boy an orphan like her.

A rag doll walked into the room as she mutters something about Nelly under her breath. Her blue and black striped hair was held up in ratty pigtails. She wore a black, satin, off-the-shoulder gown. Its corset top contained blue ribbon and the skirt puffed out slightly. Her small feet were donned in leather shoes. Upon seeing Alice in such a fragile state, she stopped in her tracks and gasped. Her blue button eyes went wide in shock and worry.

"Alice, my dear, are you alright?" she asked in a gentle tone.

Fearing that she would break down if she spoke, Alice responded by shaking her head. However, her attempt to remain calm failed, for she began to weep. Her body shook uncontrollably as she let her tears gush down her cheeks. Hoping to stops the tremors, she wrapped her arms around her slender body. She opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling. Her eyes glistened tears of guilt, regret, and grief.

"What have I done?"

Ooooooh the murderer has been exposed! I got the idea of the rag dolls from Zosomoto's dolls on deviantart. I want to give credit to her too. So tell me what you guys think. Remember to review. REVIEW! I can not stress that enough. I crave them more than I crave for cherry ICEEs! Those things are fucking delicious! Once again, please review. I will still send virtual brain freezies if you review :3 Thanks for reading!