She was whimpering like a little baby, that was new. John had no idea she could get this scared. But of course…when your friend is serious about disfiguring and dismembering you, who wouldn't start crying? John went around to the back of the chair. It was all good and tight around the dormant heating pipe in the back of the abandoned basement.
John found the perfect place; no more public places where he might be found out—like a bathroom or bottom of a staircase—a very much unused and abandoned house not too far from his home. The emptiness caught him when he first discovered it: The blankness, the smell, the loneliness…lovely.
"John, I'm sorry, okay? If it was something I said over PesterChum…" The girl whipped her head away as John walked over to the table. It was full of various sharp and sickeningly jagged and distorted metal objects. All of them were rusty from blood and smelled like rotting skin. Rose hunched her shoulders and her face came to her chest; it was all over and there's no escaping it. But no way was she going to watch her fate. 'Might as well give up,' she thought.
John giggled; he found something that he wanted. He gripped the makeshift handle he crafted himself—a glittering red handle from an old Victorian mirror. Attached to it was a slice of old church windows, adding beautiful wings to the grip. A simple wavy blade was the sharp of John's creation. To him, this would honor Rose's love for descriptive writing. He made it for this specific occasion.
John turned and saw Rose's head limp and breathing even. John admired the fear in his victim's eyes, but Lalonde was showing none as he came towards her. Whatever. John chortled at the thought of making his friend scared.
John stopped and smiled, waiting for Rose to lift up her head. At the silence she did almost flinching with every inch she turned her head. John bent down and brought his hands behind his back, glowering close to her face with distorted eyes. The pupils stuck as if the light of the sun was always showering on them, dilating them.
"Lalonde…why are you sad?" John asked, "Do you not want to have fun with me?" The voice was almost whining.
"Egbert," Rose mumbled, "Letting you torture and dismember me is not my definition of "fun." No, I do not want to be killed, and I wish for you to release me." Her confidence came back and sassed out at John, who only stood up straight and stared down at her with a growing sadness forming on his face as he was sobered.
"I guess not and I'll go have fun with someone else." John took up the ropes, and with a swish they broke. Rose flinched, was that it? A little cut formed on Rose's side and bled on her clothes, but that was it? She looked on at her friend. John put the blade down on the table with a laugh. Still a little kooky with a sensitive nose; "Go, then, Rose and leave this in the past?"
"Yes," Rose said. She left the room and went up the stairs, John behind her without her knowledge. She turned left, he turned right. John smiled at her disappearing figure.
The house's beauty was going to be in full effect tonight. John turned a corner and bellowed out the laughs he held until now.~~~~-
Of course I was going to turn around. John was insane and I wanted to make sure he was with me at all times unarmed until I exited this hellhole. But he was gone and I heard him laugh. So I followed his giggling and turned the corner of the direction it came from. There was a hallway and I couldn't adjust my eyes fast enough to see what John was doing. Then in the back of the long hallway I heard a sound that burned my stomach.
It took a nanosecond to register. John only released me to play cat-and-mouse with him. Before the sounds of the horrifying weapon presented in the darkness became violent, I stalked off quietly and quickly in the direction of the exit. I anxiously trotted past the hallway leading to the basement around the right corner, down the stairs and through a main entrance room. I could still hear it.
My cool disappeared instantly with that one bone-chilling confirmation.
"Oh god NO!" I screamed instinctively. I had to get out now now now now now! Forget the sounds, I was already at the main entrance and running as quickly as I could. But I stopped for half a second and ran the other way; to the left door on the other side of the room. He locked the entrance DUH. How stupid could you—
"!" John was right there at the corner of my eye at the top of the stairs, holding a chainsaw no doubt covered in blood already. I swear I heard him say "Hello Lalonde…" under my scream. My concentration was gone and my coordination was lost. I jostled the doorknob to no avail. Locked and I was very much "flipping my shit." In my messy desperation I tried at the Main Gate; yes, it was locked as I just claimed. Did I try the right door at the opposite side of the room? It was open to my fortune. I entered not caring what it lead to.
I sighed and made a great distance between me and the door. My gaze stuck to the ebony slab as I backed away slowly, pondering on each step of my newly dusted shoes of delicate lavender. I contacted a wall and I waited. John whooed and called my name, "Lalonde? Laaaaloooonnnnde?" The chainsaw's looming connotational sounds rumbled close to the door. We both knew he saw me enter the room, and I ran for it. There was another door on the opposite side of the room, its golden swirly design like a light towards heaven to me as I opened them in a flourish.
I entered a hallway once again, which I sprinted through. Why did my friend lead me to this abandoned mansion only to kill me in a frightening rumbling race to the back entrance? Am I going to die? Hell no, says I! I felt my feet bounce and speed up. I felt confident again that I will be alive and outside.
"No he got through the door!" I shouted and my pace wavered as I sped up even more, "nooooo nononononononononononononono…nonononononono nonononononono!" My eyes squeezed shut so I would stop babbling and keep running. I needed as much distance from Egbert as possible. But I couldn't help it…
In the distance John heard Rose completely lose it and scream. She keeps up quite a distance. John slipped through the door he destroyed and carefully balanced the chainsaw he named Charles beside his body to let him through. From experience, Charles has gotten him a few times and a rule for one who is being scratched by a chainsaw:
DO. NOT. FLINCH.
John lost a finger and a half learning this rule. He sewed them back on, but they're just limp appendages now. John trots to the door in which the hallway concealing his friend lies. And opening it reveals a sprinting Rose whom turned the corner in horrified anxiety at the sound of a creaking door and a rumbling Charlie. John revved up his bestie and laughed loudly.
I am literally crying now. Whimpering away tears and fumbling around hallways whilst I listen to the impending laughter of my…John…my masochist.
I hide in a random room. It's dark with no windows. There were no lights to turn on, so I just opened up my phone to look around—
Oh my…no way am I here.
This is the worst place to hide.
I cover my own mouth to keep myself from screeching out in terror. I point the light to the walls that are streamed with stained blood and…on no way…the ceiling…chains…the chains held bodies. Limp swinging bodies…or what is left of them. Dark…blood…STOMP STOMP…
"Ah!" I squeak. I hear feet pounding on the ground in front of me. Hallucinations no doubt. But…I see bodies…they are dead and I…I'm here…
If I don't leave I'm going to end up here.
I drop my phone. HA…HA…STOMP STOMP stomp HA HA HA…THEY SEE ME HERE!
"God, please save me oh Holy One. I am on the brink of insanity and I wish for your guiding hand out of this room, out of this out house and into Your arms in the sun. Give me sanity to go on and tell me what is right. I will be in Your debt forever oh God Almighty save me from this terror—nuh!" I hear a rumble and a giggle.
Charles barreled through the door illuminating the carnage inside. Rose looked up in fear and widened eyes. He was so close to her now. John could see in his mind Rose's body bubbling up and her blood spraying everywhere, the body of her easily coming apart in a ground-up mess…her screams ceasing as her brain is jumbled and stops sending signals to her person—the heap of fresh blood and body brimming brightly in the grayness of the other bodies. Her stench mixing with the others…lovely.
John laughed as he raised Charles up to come down on Rose. He advanced slowly…shufflingly…John saw the horror in his friend's eyes. He stopped as Rose began to scoot away from her position on the floor.
"Charles," John set his chainsaw lower to be eye-level with it, "whatdo you wantTOdo?" He giggled as he made his bestie respond:
"Me too!" John chortled at his chainsaw, "We thinkALIKE me andyou…so let's DOthat now. Hehe…heheheheeh…hahahahahahaha!"
The light of the moon shined dimly on a black silhouette. Rose gaped at it as it proceeded to close the door.
"Ah…no, please…John…please?" Rose begged. It was pitch black now. She got up and moved among the corpses, trying to get John around and exit quickly.
"…" John teased, "Wanna know something?"
"Pray tell me," Lalonde whispered.
"I'm goingtoKILLyou!" John screamed. The chainsaw revved up loud and as if by coincidence the sound headed towards Rose. She tried not to scream but attempted to run to the left. Not without tripping over a body and feeling John's legs pass hers. He stepped on them as if it were just another carcass, and Rose wailed in pain. John threw the chainsaw against the wall and Charles sparked the whole room with strobing light. She looked up at the screeching sound and saw John looking down at her.
"THERE YOU ARE!" John shouted above the din, and the room was dark again as Charles was lifted and sent down on where Rose's body was thought to be. Rose threw herself away from a grinding terror as the device was met with an old dead body spraying black blood blindly in the black room. Rose screamed and ran towards the door, which had a sliver of moonlight coming through it. She barreled through the door and proceeded down the hallway, deeper into the mansion.
John was quick to follow outside the room. He stopped and called out to her, dark, stale blood plastered on his features and some skin flailed around and around on the chainsaw: "You're MINElalonde!"
I heard nothing but my own breath; it was cold in my throat but still so agonizingly bristling at the same time. For the past ten minutes I have been running blindly searching the farthest back part of the house for the exit. As I pass some rooms I tended to look inside, and I saw odd things. There were rooms full of toys, rooms with flowers in them, and some with shadows from my hallucinations. John has been holding up people and killing them long enough to have an indoor garden. Why didn't I just jump out the window? I didn't want harm to myself in the first place. What about my phone? Too late. In my scramble to exit that incident I left my phone on the floor with all the bodies. There was no reception, while John was bringing me over, I checked my phone and there was nothing. So it was only really a flashlight.
John really was psychopathic. He'd snapped some time ago but I guess I didn't notice. On PesterChum he might write funny and with a bloodthirsty relish, but now the pieces fell together. And here I am, panting and gasping for breath as I speed on, my pace an exhausted jog now. But I had to keep going. Don't think about anything and keep going, I thought to myself.
John threw himself in front of me, chainsaw at the ready. He caught me! The device came down and I screamed.
It was a hallucination.
I just stopped there, shocked and relieved. I fell down, and just stopped. I shook and shivered, staring at where John vanished like he teleported at invisible speed. I swear my eyes shivered like a computer screen.
That's when I realized I was really screwed loose.
I couldn't help it…I fell asleep; a dreamless, fitful sleep.
John turned the corner and saw Rose passed out. He had known that he would find her soon! He turned off the chainsaw and put it down—more or less just dropped it. That smile was still stuck on his face like he had the best joke in the world to tell anyone who'd listen. He got down on his hands and knees and crawled over to Rose, half a hallway's length away.
He got to her and saw her sprawled on her back. "It's like you fainted, Rose-y," John said to the limp body, "Your faceis oh-so pale…" he took her face into his hands, the blood and dirt on them rubbing off on her cheeks. "You're a peacefulwhen you sleep. Oops, didYOU say something? Peaceful little friend…my little peaceful…my little peaceful…~" John began to hum a little tune as he picked his friend up and sat against the wall with Rose in his arms.
"Did you ever think that you'd get free…? Will you promise to share your pleads with me…? ~" John giggled as he noticed he was all out making a new song. He continued:
"Won't you wake up
"Look at me…
"Run and scream
"As I laugh in glee
"Share you screams with me pretty please?
"Your death will make my world complete~
"My little peaceful…" John hummed to Rose's slumbering figure, "Don't you know I still consider you my frieeeeeeennnnd?"
John continued to talk to the limp figure of the slumbering Rose, when until finally she stirred, and she awoke. Numb to the current situation for only a moment before inhaling deeply, and staring widely at her murderous friend. She only sat there, maybe only because there was no knife to her body yet.
John smiled sanely, "Rose is awake now," he said, "We can have more fun I think…are wegonna have moreTAG to play Lalonde?" His voice went from a distant mumble to himself, to a half-shout towards the drowsy but alert girl in his arms.
Rose sat up quickly, rubbed her eyes, and stumbled off her crazy friend, whimpering. She already was shaky and her movements were blocky unlike most one's fluid movements after sleep. She took a lanky step back with each big sweep of motion from John as he lifted himself up almost ghost-like.
John could not help but smile; smile widely and as if he were told a joke, "Just comeHERE, Rose-y…I won't hurt you till YOUgive up." With that, John laughed abruptly, making the fearful girl freeze. Rose knew, though, that that is not the best decision, and started running after a second. John tossed something enthusiastically at the escaping figure. It caught Rose in the back, stabbing her. She yelped openly as her rigid body unceremoniously fell to her knees. She arched her back to get out whatever was in her back, but John was fast. He came from behind and gently enveloped his hands over the handle of the object.
And he twisted…
Every small wrench made Rose scream. John watched the knife encircle something white inside her, her skin already orange and the muscles already coming through her bloodied clothes. Her back began to arch unnaturally and her moans more desperate for the pain to just…just leave. Rose wanted John to just kill her with the chainsaw now; at least he would have come down on her head. Wrong.
Rose's clothes went muddy black as the blood soaked into them. The insides were falling out ever so slowly. Blood squirted out mockingly at John's neck. It trickled down into his shirt's collar, he could feel it roll down and it sent a shiver through his spine, while twisting more of Rose's. It made him giggle, and he enjoyed the little sensation.
"No! No more! Just kill me now! Please!" Rose begged. The body refused to move; either way, she couldn't. John laughed at her creaking bones and her feeble cries, more blood found its way onto John, beginning to shower him a bit with bliss, forgetting he wanted his victim alive for as long as possible. The knife slipped and was angled; out it flew into Egbert's chest, lightly pushing him making him roll on his toes. He let out a giggle as he quickly snuggled the bloodied blade before looking up at the damage.
Rose was bent arched outwards on her side, wailing bloody murder. Rolling around a bit on her flank as she brushed over her wound with her fingers. Blood began to pour from the hole in her back. Her legs flailed in an attempt to ease the pain. John caught the legs, holding her by the ankles. She screamed for release as John dragged her into a nearby room. Her skirt rolled up and hair jumbled in the fury, her eyes puffy with sorrow and pain, Rose was taken away to her final destination.
John chose not to put foreign restraints on his friend, because she probably couldn't run away if she tried. He kept close proximity and held her still using his limbs instead. He gazed around her body, thinking on where to start with lighted eyes. She was always so snooty and uptight, and he hated her little nose for being so stuck-up.
"Rose-y, I'll start with your STUPIDlittle nose. You're alwaysSO HAUGHTYwiththat thing, and I hateIT." John sneered. The knife came up to the bottom of Rose's nose. With a jerk and a little flex, the nose gave way under the cartilage and began to peel upwards. John's world was filled with his friends blubbed cries as he removed her nose. The skin was peeling farther outwards than intended. It bent and twisted with John's ever rising relish. Rose thrashed about as much as she could. John stilled Rose with his elbows, forearms and bloody fingers busied. He chortled and laughed with each new centimeter detached until-pop! -It was off. Rose yelled out as she felt a part of her remove. John lifted up a bit and dangled it in her face, and then dropping it on the floor.
John scoffed, "Now you won't be as snooty and stuck-up!" He held her once again, locking her wrists and her ankles, "It suitsYOU, Rose-y."
Rose couldn't hear what was said, she was crying and her heartbeat filled her ears. She hadn't the dignity to listen to John tease her anymore. She went limp, forgetting her promise to herself—she wasn't getting out anymore.
John held both of her wrists with one hand to settle the knife on top of Rose's exposed stomach. He scrunched his face a bit and laid the tip at the end of her ribcage. He smirked, "I hate your guts, but I'dLOVEto see your real guts. After this, Rose-y, I bet you'll hateTHEM, too." He pressed a little, and the ivory skin gave way to a little scarlet drop of blood. John shivered again inside, and he snapped. He jerkily angled the knife towards him, ripping down Rose's middle with little fits of giggles. Rose found her voice again, and yelled out in agony. John hummed at all of her feeble sentences as he trailed his finger along the slit, eventually digging his finger into the middle, and bringing the other in, too. He pulled outwards, and Rose's skin revealed her stomach, her ribs, her intestine…John got a little overwhelmed and had a good, long laugh with himself. Rose simply watched in a daze.
There was no pick-and-choose, John just dived his arms into his friend's stomach, making her wriggle and grab his arms and beg and beg. John took out a bloodied hand and put it through the hole in her back. He moved around and jumbled up Rose's insides until his hands met on either side. Rose's middle was spilling out blood and her organs slumped outwards as she was pushed forward into John's gory embrace. Her head fell on his shoulder, and she stared out to the door many meters away.
John felt her warmth on his arms and chest. He smiled; he unlocked his hands and pressed her close to him. John began to pick and pull out all Rose's organs at once, the blood fell to his pants. The knife found its way into Rose's abdomen and sawed off her bladder and stomach from the lump. It all came out onto John's body, something he's never experienced before. His eyes grew wide and he smiled, surprised and happy. The organs fell loose from each other and plopped to the floor, rolling about in blood. John started breathing heavily, flustered from the excitement he was earning from this. Rose's body all but forgotten—whom was moaning and fell away from her killer—and John picked up every individual organ and began to play with them like they were little toys.
The stomach—a squishy little pillow house for Mr. and Mrs. Kidney and baby…whatever this pretty is. And they have to go to Mr. Liver's house because he's sick. The Intestine twins are there before the Kidneys, but that doesn't stop them from giving Mr. Liver some blood to eat, but it just gets worse. Soon they call Dr. Stringy-Thing-A-Ma-Call-It. He says Mr. Liver's going to die because he had to work so hard one day. Everyone mourned Mr. Liver; or what was left of him when John began to "kill off Mr. Liver."
"Rose-y, playWITH meeeeeeee!" John whined after a while, "Mr. Liver's alreadyDEAD, and we'regonnado more than THAT! We're gonna BURNdown Kidney's house with a electric thing, and then I'mma see if kidneys can standALOTTA weight. IT'S gonnaBE SOMUCH FUN, ROSE-Y!" Then silence, it was all but a single tap in the hallways from the creaking building that set off John again. His eyes brimmed with the moonlight shining out the garden window. He gasped at the sound and wailed out in laughter. Rose's body twitched as she attempted to react to the scare.
"OhNO! AHhhh! MySIDES! I think I'Mcrazy, ROSE-Y! DidYOU HEARTHAT? So scared! SO SCARED!" John's eyes were filled with joyful tears, "I'm gonna goTOthe CRAAAAZIIIEEhouse! Hahaha! Stopit—stuuupid brains! Gonna makeEE go away! Sill-ry Brain! OH! Mr. LIVER! You'reDEAD! But I can'thaveFUN with you still!" John took up the pile of scrambled liver into his hands and hugged it in his jovial high. Most of it rolled out between John's grip but he hugged it still. He hugged Rose's body, too, and put Mr. Liver in her middle, "How about you be the Lalonde Cemetery for Your Little Organ Family? DoSOMETHING with meeeee! Oh—hehe!"
John snorted when Rose pulled his arm into her body farther. She made him graze over her lungs and her heart and her bones and her blood was bubbling inside with very movement. John sat confused but amused, he let her do this to him for some time before his hand brushed her heart again. He took in both hands and-without warning-pulled! Blood flew about abruptly as ribs and muscles broke outside her. With a splash John fell on his back into the blood behind him.
He got up and saw something amazing: Rose's heart was in his hands. He rushed up to show Rose her heart, but she wasn't looking. Her eyes were glassy, but John still thought she was alive still—he was that oblivious.
"Rose-y! ROSE-Y! Look! Look before you die! Your heart!" John lifted up his friend's face so that her eyes were pointed at the twitching heart, "It's still moving!" With that, he let Rose go limp and he grabbed his knife. He cut through the heart into the left ventricle; with great ease. Blood spurted out of the sac and John squealed when it hit his glasses, which were askew and dangling on his nose. He opened it up and saw the vesicles slow and stop, "OhMY! MYmymyMY," he breathed, "ThisIS better than preservedHEARTS!"
Suddenly a lingering tingle entered his stomach. He stared at the opened heart and gulped. Should he? John let the anxiety dawdle as he focused out from the heart, blood still tickling down his hand. It felt so good, it…seemed so fitting…
"Nah!" John piped.
Rose was dead; she's been dead for a few minutes now, ever since John pulled out her heart. John spread out Rose's heart and looked at its insides.
It all was okay to do, and no one was watching…John shifted his eyes back and forth like someone was going to scold him when he did this. He took a little breath and—
Picked up the flattened out heart and…
"Bluh! BluhGROSS! OhMY! Ahhhh!" John moaned through sputters of blood. It was disgusting. But the thrill was still there. It fluttered in his stomach and made him shiver…he did it again just for the thrill…
His tongue passed upwards on the muscle, blood accumulating on it as it brushed past. John was careful not to swallow any this time. He let the blood dribble off onto his chin when he was done. He shivered visibly and a blush filled his cheeks. He needed to busy himself with cleaning up before he did it again.