Quite a while ago, not knowing exactly when, things became abnormally fucked up. Only faint memories took Johnny to the places in which he was once normal, but those memories come in tiny bits, often forgotten again, after he wakes up. Sleep seems to be both a coping mechanism, and a huge nightmare he wishes to get away from. He can't tell if he truly loves sleep, or despises it. Right now, it seemed to be leaning towards the absolute disgust of his fairly normal biological need. It wasn't abnormal, considering how much he hated ALL of his biological needs and functions. Why he hates them, he can never remember quite clearly, either. Whether it be past decrepencies or literally him despising being a physical being instead of a big floaty thing in the sky that blows up heads and stabs little bunny heads, we and also he, may never know.
Many suicidal attempts, somehow failed. Many homocidal attempts, somehow achieved and gotten away with. Only this selfish being he has, the one that takes life unneccessarily, with no rhyme or reason, exists here, on Earth. Even the sky tonight seemed too bright, as he found himself trying to get his favorite drinks and snacks at a convenience store he never remembers the name of, but remembers the location of.
There were only a few people parked outside getting gas, and one or two inside the store. Either way, he tried so hard not to make eye contact with any of them. If he even becomes a tad bit aggrivated, he'd be lost in his pyschotic fit. Tonight, he just wanted a quiet night watching a shitty movie and talking to the latest corpse - or - whatever was on his couch at the moment. His memory, once again, alluding him.
As time goes on, it seems both long term and short term memories were corrupted. Some big important things, some small and insignificant. He remembers people, and fragments of their faces. All victims, or near victims, or his ex girlfriend who wants nothing to do with him ever again.
In the end, he can't truly remember how many times that has even happened. There was a point, long before the point he was at right now, where he would date a bit more frequently. But at the moment, the only person he has had any contact with in the past 5 to 6 years, was the one girl who he lost. Johnny lost her, and it was all his fault, and it was several months ago.
Nothing he could do woud fix it, so he stayed away as she requested. But it wasn't a total lost, since, love had been lost on him many times before. It wasn't something he felt capable of doing. Love was just a side effect of the momentary sanity he gains for a few minutes to hours, before the pyschosis brings him back to the reality he was forced to face.
So of course, it was natural that even though so far today things were fairly normal (by his definition), that things would go terribly wrong. Not only was the machine broken for his fizzy drink, but when he asked the cashier to fix it, he said he couldn't.
"Look, sir, if you don't kindly leave I'm going to have to call the police; you're scaring the other customers with your rioting."
Of course, these string of words only further stabbed at his nerves. Stabbed. Stabbing. He crushed the bag of chips in his palm and bits of crumbs and cheetos flew in the air, as veins popped out of his head and he gritted his teeth. Jumping up on the counter, he grabbed the man by the shirt, who had already pressed the emergency button under the counter.
"GO AHEAD, PRESS IT ALL YOU WANT, THE COPS HAVEN'T CAUGHT ME YET AND THEY NEVER WILL! I'm invincible, a being a pure INVINCIBILITY - only death will get me, and yet, not even DEATH has caught up to me- NO MATTER HOW MUCH I WILL IT! Do you think I haven't tried? I've put a bullet in my head but not even HEAVEN OR HELL WOULD TAKE ME! Do you want to see how it feels to die, PIGMAN?! STOP STARING AT ME!"
As Nny let go of the man's shirt he kicked him in the jaw so his head would jerk back, the cashier immediately bashing his head into the counter behind him, causing a good portion of his skull to visibly crumble and crack in, a small amount of blood splatting at the impact of the blow, before him falling limp to the floor and slowly pooling out the rest of the liquids residing in his skull.
Turning around, he was about to yell at the person he directed the 'stop staring at me' to but found out that it was someone he.... recognized. Where has he seen this male before? He was frozen, something that didn't happen very often to the homocidal old man. Swallowing, he slowly climbed down the counter with a curious, furrowed brow, before smiling.
"Uh, you can still pay for those snacks - as much as the consumption of capatalistic brainwashing government controls the whole marketing of the world, they have a donation to little cancer kids behind the counter. Funny, huh? They spend all that time trying to fix their little bald heads and they die within a year anyways. But hey! Can't blame 'em for tryin - ey?" He grabbed the jar and held it out, rattling it a bit. It was the only thing he could think of doing. That's when he remembered his manners. "OH! That's right! My names Johnny, but you can call me Nny, sounds like Kneeeee, huh? Heheh." Smiling so wide it looked like he was a monster (and in some way he is), there was definitely something off about him other than the way he just slaughtered a cashier and called doctors useless for not being able to help dying bald children with almost incurable diseases.