User:Kasecade

Jamie Zalgo

Loud yelling echoed down the long hallways, of the Clidesdale orphanage, making most kids plug their ears, flinching away from the sounds, as if doing that would lessen the intensity of the screams. But the kids who spent most of their life's there knew by now what the yelling meant, and have gotten used to it. It was just Sister Charlotte trying to get some kids acts together. Only, the yelling never seemed to fix anything. Especially for the schizophrenic boy and his brother.

"James!" She shrieked from behind closed wooden doors in her office, tapping her foot on the ground. Most everyone in the orphanage, all 27 unlucky souls trapped in that hellish place, could here her. Only, James, or Jamie as he called himself, didn't answer. It would have been best for him to answer immediately, walk in an orderly way down the stairs, turn right and go straight into her office, and accept what was coming to him, like most everyone did. It would have been better off that way. Everything was better off the way that he didn't do it. But instead, he looked down at what he was drawing, the stolen pencil tracing lines over and over again on the parchment, distracting him from thinking about what was in his past, and what was coming to his future.

Jamie never enjoyed thinking, it always took a turn for the dark side when he did. The fact that the voices in his head, a side affect from schizophrenia, well, hell, it WAS his schizophrenia, always told him to do bad things, always made him want to. No matter what his original thought was, he would always end up right back to the voices, one voice in particular, that always told him to do the darkest things. The darkest thing it never told him to do, that all of the other ones told him to, was kill his younger brother Charlie, who was only 12 years of age. Charlie was all James had, the only person who didn't try to beat up the 17 year old, or call him a freak, so losing him would most likely make him go insane. Which, he now was.

Charlie died of pneumonia a week ago, due to poor medical and heating treatment, which ended with Jamie locking himself in the poorly lit bathroom,  if only to be alone, away from those who would hit him and bring pain to him whenever they saw the chance. They saw him as vulnerable, just exactly as he felt.

Charlie wasn't biologically Jamie's brother, but with everything Charlie stuck with James through, he always thought of them as best friends, or in this case, brothers. Charlie was all James had, and now he... Was gone.

Even when Charlie was there, life never really had the most meaning. Beatings after beatings with either candlesticks, or books, or an empty beer bottler or wine glass would come from his biological mother, her punishing him for things he didn't remember doing. "You deserve this." She would always growl, drunken or not, before swinging it down onto his head. Then she would ignore his existence for a month of so, and then she would strike him again, and the cycle would continue. He never blamed her, seeing as life must have been hard for being a single mom and having to bring him to a private school for personal lessons because of the voices in his head, but he couldn't help but feel rage towards her sometimes, and blacking out entirely at others. His fingers ghosted over the scars on his neck and back from it, tears coming to his eyes.

Then, two years ago, his mother threw him into an orphanage even with him being 15, and she left, saying she'll come back at some point.... She never did. And now, people say the same thing when they are coming after him, or maybe it's just his imagination, but it sure as hell seems if they are saying it behind his back. That 'he deserves this'. 'He deserves all of gthis.' No, no he doesn't. But the person he 'knows' says it, the voices say so, is that Sister Charlotte does. Yesterday she said it, and that's probably what she was going to say now.

'Oh trust me boy, she's going to torture you today. You know she is. We all know.'

Jamie let out a loud moan as he shook his head and pulled at his practically white hair, trying to get the thoughts out of his head, more importantly, THAT voice out of his head. He rose from the cold ground, broken tiles creaking as he stood, bringing his picture up from the ground and continuing to draw on the counter of the bathroom sink, giving himself something to do. Instead of thinking about that, he focused on his drawing, which was taking a devil-ish form, like usual. With horns with spike type things coming from them, and reddish mouths placed randomly onto the body,  like some Gory murder scene. As if someone deliberately slowly cut off living tissue from people's mouths and pasted them onto the devils body. It was comforting. None of his drawings were ever what his fellow orphans would call normal, his drawing were the most sane thing to him though. Always involving a devil-like creature, with dark eyes, with red pupils, all drawn in red pencils, basically the way he saw himself, just, the creature always had a name, that wasn't James'.

'Shes coming up the stairs.' A voice warned in his head. The voice he named after his drawings. Zalgo. It was the only voice he liked, the only thing he liked seeing. The lights instantly flickered after that, and then again. It was only a coincidence to make things creepier for himself, he said silently,  the way he liked it.

'Shes going to kill you, you useless brat.' A much less helpful voice offered

'No, she's gonna choke you to death, much more suiting don't you think?' Another suggested

'You should kill her, before she chokes you.' The not so helpful voice said.

'Kill her. She deserves it.'

'She. Deserves. It.'

"She. Deserves. It." He said aloud, before rubbing at his head. No. No she doesn't.

He groaned again biting into his lip trying to ignore the voices, and He scribbled down his name at the corner of the picture, writing:

'Jamie R. Date: --/--/--'

He didn't know the date, so scribbling would have to do. Blood from his own lip fell into his mouth, and by reflexes he stopped biting down so hard, letting out a silent cry of pain. He also couldn't help but crack a smile once he finished off the final bit of his drawing, which was one of the first times he's smiled in a while. He smiled from the slight pain, and from the completion of his masterpiece. Insanity was his home.

When he looked into the dusty mirror, Jamie only saw what was expected. His own pale reflection covered in jagged scars and bruises, red/brown eyes, white/blonde hair, black and red clothing, and then The figures. A cat on the counter one eye larger than the other, Zalgo standing in the background, smirking as if he knew what was about to happen, a killer clown with a knife standing next to him, holding the knife to Jamie's throat, nothing unusual. He didn't flinch, now being used to these images.

Satisfied with his drawing, he folded it and walked out of the bathroom, only to be confronted by Sister Charlotte, who stood outside the door, her arms crossed, holding a rope in her hands. She reached forward, her skirts kitting across the floor as she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him downstairs, making him drop his drawing onto the ground. The picture floated to the ground and landed on its backside, the side Jamie drew on, leaving his only picture of himself and Charlie, staring up at the ceiling, with shit-eating grins on their faces, forever frozen in time like that.

Jamie glared at the spot where the picture lay, before his line of sight was broken by a door slamming in his face, locking itself, keeping him in the nuns office.....great.

"James Richardson." Charlotte said firmly spinning him around to face her, her wrinkled old face seeming to be stuck in a permanent scowl. She let go of him and went behind her desk, sitting down into her chair, which squeaked as she sat in it. "You did not come when I called you. For which you know, deserves punishment. But, I do believe that this one requires something more severe, James. You deserve this. Just like Charles deserved his death." She said sweetly, which sounded strange coming from her voice.

She..... She...... She thinks that Charlie deserved to die?!

As she turned her back his anger from dropping his picture rose, and his fists clenched as he saw something on her desk. It was his book. His Zalgo book. The one that made him feel like he wasn't a psychopath. The one that he could just walk away for a while after something, and just sit down with the book. The one that made him feel normal. It was his, and his only. The only other person he shared that book with was...... Charlie. And Charlie was gone!

He felt tears stream down his face, watching as Sister Charlotte rummaged through her drawers, looking for something. Jamie's vision was blurry by now, the Zalgo voice still in his mind. 'She Deserves this. You know she does. It might even make you feel better.'

'Dont worry about the consequences.' A voice persuaded, which made him move over silently to a cabinet next to the door, which had a letter opener laying on top of it.

'After you kill her, nothing bad will happen. They won't throw you in jail, you can just plead insanity, which always works for you.' Another one said, making a smile come to his face, covering the previous glare. He reached over and silently picked it up, clenching it tightly in his hand.

'No one will miss her anyways. She's always been a bitch'

'Shes just another casualty for you to be yourself Jamie.'

'Charlie would want this.'

'You want this'

"I want this." He whispered to himself quietly, his grin growing wider, stepping as silently as he could towards her. She was still facing the other way, although, he wanted her to know who she was murdered by. Hell, who she was given justice by. Any second now.

"Again James, honey, you deserve everything you've got coming to you. Your mother didn't even want you, and no one wants you. All you ever do is read Satanic books, I'm afraid you are joining a cult and as a follower of The Lord I will have to put an end to this-" The Sister said, turning around in her seat and holding a rope in her hands, before being cut off by laughter. Jamie was confused as to who the laughter was coming from at first. He thought it might have been one of the voices, but no, it was him. He was laughing wildly, smiling and staring over to the retched lady, blood from his lip still plaguing his mouth. He didn't really have control of thoughts by now, only actions, and even those weren't normal. These must be his /true/ thoughts.

"No~ No no no no no~" He teased, his voice slightly higher, stepping closer to her, wagging the Letter opener to her in a 'shaming' manner. Her eyes stared at him widely, her mouth agape as he giggled to himself. "Oh no honey~ Ends are for books, not people. And that's why, Sister Charlotte-" he spat, taking a step closer to her, and pushing the desk out of his way, the laugh still on his lips. "I'm just returning the favor you gave to me. You. Deserve. This." He growled, pushing her and the chair back, so she fell flat onto the floor, her head banging onto the ground.

He lowered himself down to her level, hearing her give out a shriek of surprise. He only smiled to himself and brought the letter opener it his mouth, tapping it against his chin as if He was thinking what he was going to do. Although the voices in his head were gone by now, this was only him.

She suddenly reached up and grabbed him around the neck in an attempt to choke him, but instead Jamie threw punches at her hitting her hardly in the chest enough to make her groan and let go for a second, before she ripped the opener from one of his hands, getting in two good vertical slashes against each eye, making red blood pool from the cuts below and underneath his eye. Jamie sat back for a second, crying and grabbing at his eyes, which gave her enough time to sit up and try to get away.

Jamie wiped at his eyes, crying out in laughter before pouncing back onto her and punching her. Again. And again, and again until her realized that the best he was going to do was knock her out because of his lack of physical strength, so He ripped the rope from her fingers, hearing a slight crack as he saw one of her fingers break. She screamed again, and Jamie quickly tugged up her bloody head, wrapping the rope around her neck, and quickly making the best noose he could, and choked her. He only stopped once he noticed she wasn't moving.

'Dont you feel better now?'

'Wasnt that fun?'

'You truly are Satan spawn you fucking idiot'

Jamie ignored that last part, smiling down at the dead body.

"You. Deserve. This." She was evil, she deserved this. Her eyes stared up at him and he couldn't help but laugh as he saw the light drain out of them. As soon as she looked completely dead, he picked her up by the rope, before tying the loose end of the rope to one of the rafters,  making the woman's dead body hang from the air, as if she hung herself. He smiled at his handiwork, before an idea came to his mind. It was useless, but god would it be fun.

He picked up the letter opener and walked to the body, lifting up her shirt and bringing the sharp object to her wrinkled stomach.

'O N - B E H A L F - O F - Z A L G O' he carved, smiling to himself once he finished, wiping the blade off onto his tattered shirt, before hearing a muffled scream come from behind him.

A kid from the orphanage, a kid Jamie recognized but he couldn't remember the name to, stood frozen at the door, his hand covering his mouth as he looked in terror over the sight in front of him. "I heard- uh- screams." He stuttered, before Jamie smiled, gesturing for the boy to follow Jamie as he walked out of the office, grabbing some rope and the envelope opener, and down the run-down hallway, and towards the front doors that lead outside and to the woods.

'Everyone is evil.' The voice named Zalgo whispered from inside his mind. 'So everyone deserves to die. They all taunt and pick on you, even when they don't personally know you. Everyone is your enemy. I am your only true friend James.'

"It's okay. No one is going to hurt you."Jamie said sweetly, grabbing the young boys hand,  but not before picking up his fallen picture and shoving it into his pocket. He smiled down towards the boy, ignoring the blood clogging his eyesight. "I just want to give you what you deserve."

'Everyone is evil James.'

'Everyone hates you James'

'Everyone should get what they deserve.'