Johnny C Tweets

I was asleep when he came down. I actually heard him before I saw him, heard him yelling about something – it's what woke me up.

There was that sound of his boots on the stairs and everyone who was still awake tensed up the way you do when you're trapped in some insane asshole's murder basement. He walked up to the first person he could, the redhead guy closest to the stairs, barely more than a kid, late teens, maybe early 20's.

"Just LOOK at this!" mister boots says to the guy as he holds out a phone with I guess a video on it. The kid looked, of course, did whatever the hell mister boots asked him because what else are you gonna do? I couldn't see, but boots was describing everything and apparently it was nanny-cam footage of a babysitter smacking a baby around.

This really pissed mister boots off and he sure as hell let everyone know about it. "How the hell could anyone do that to a baby?" he said, honestly sounding aghast like he couldn't imagine some of the awful shit humans do to their own kind.

"What the fuck is wrong with people??"

Red just shook his head slowly, unsure of what the hell was happening Because he was pretty new here as far as guests in this place go. He hadn't seen some of the shit the rest of us have.

"Yeah, that's really bad" the kid managed.

"This world…" mister boots said, looking down at the phone as he turned to head back up the stairs.

Somewhere else in the place, somewhere deeper below us was the sound of someone screaming suddenly, the kind of scream you imagine characters in a Lovecraft novel would let out when whatever happens to their tiny unraveling minds happens.

I've been here a while, and I've seen some fucked up shit but that scream got to me, but mister boots just kept walking slowly up the stairs, distraught about what he was watching.

"This world…" he said again before disappearing.

--Oct 1, 2019

As dungeons go, there’s probably worse ones. The smell of cleaner can be a bit much but it’s almost pleasant if you had to pick a stink to be trapped in.

I won’t even try to guess how long it’s been, me being down here. Lost track of days and weeks with no changing light, just the permanent gloom with no real pattern to when he comes down, making it hard to tell when he sleeps or wakes, if he sleeps at all.

“I made too much toast” he announced last time he showed up, with not a slice of toast in sight. “If anyone wants some I can bring some down.”

Some did, and so he did. It strikes you as weird what people are capable of enjoying when in the worst situations. Sometimes a piece of toast, some decent sourdough in that case, connects you to a different world, a better world that isn’t haunted by a sleepless lunatic, a world that isn’t blanketed in cleaner masking the smell of nightmares just underneath.

He seemed happy a few of us accepted the toast, happy to be part of such a small, almost normal moment, and then he got that look in his eyes again, like this world was barely there to him and he was seeing something else, hearing something else.

“Not tonight” he said to whatever he saw through the walls. “They just ate.”

I’m not getting out of here.

--Sep 28, 2019

Been feeling out of sorts. Gutted this lady like a fish the way I do and said something like “well, I guess you’re gonna be dead now.” I could see she was expecting something cooler and she died with this super let down look on her face. Snap out of it, me!

Put up a shitty, fake looking zombie robot that jerkily waves it’s arms around and you’re a hit with the neighborhood families, but scatter some actual badass human corpses around the yard and suddenly you’re a “person of interest.”

Don’t believe the lies, with the right knife you can totally shank a ghost.

Once I slipped on a puddle of someone’s blood after disemboweling them and the person stopped screaming to laugh for a moment and at first I was embarrassed but then it made me feel good to cheer someone up a little.

I once saw a person get stabbed through the skull with a street weenie fresh off the grill. That wasn’t my doing but I thought I’d mention it because it was cool as hell.

I’ve let quite a few people “escape” from down below but it’s really more for fun because not a single one has or ever could have made it past the duck in the final chamber.

I’m terrified I’m only dreaming I’m still awake.

Apparently you can caramelize a person. The things you can learn by accident!

Time to start murderin’ the shit outta people with all those pumpkins I grow special for this month.

Getting some mixed messages: So is it or is it not safe for me to be wearing someone’s face on my face these days?

Sometimes, while slicing a person’s face off, I wonder if I’m doing the right thing. Then I look up at the mural of a koala bear drinking a soda I’m making out of human faces and I think yeah... this is right.

Remembering this one time I stabbed a guy and TWO ghosts flew outta him. Life’s just full of cool mysteries.

And some people are just fulla ghosts, I guess.

Nothing tastes better than a sandwich made from a stranger’s sandwich fixins’ as said stranger sleeps unaware you’re in their home at night thinking how lucky they are that on this night you only really want a sandwich.

Some weird shit growing in my garden I didn’t know I had but I guess I have because someone had seeds in their pants or something.

When I kill a person, I have to wonder if that new ghost I just made would be considered a baby ghost. Not the ghost OF a baby, but a baby in the sense of it just having been born as a ghost. Something to think about.