Johnny the Homicidal Maniac

~Johnny's P.O.V~

I took control over my own body and mind again. The blades were coming down so fast that it would be too hard to stop so I tried to redirect the knives, it worked so instead of hitting Jimmy's neck I buried the knives into my thigh. Pain surged through my leg then body as I the hilts of the knives were visible.

I fell to the side then to the floor. There was a shuttering cry that came from my throat as I fell to the rest of the way to floor. I bit my lip, but that didn't help with the pain. I started to feel tears fall from my eyes. Also the pain to think that I almost killed a person I started to like for no apparent reason. The feelings hurt, the pain of the blades and the anguish of almost killing the one person that caught my eye.

"Please, don't hurt me..." I heard his weak whisper. His voice was filled with concern, and fear. Guilt filled my mind. " I don't want to die... Please..." he rambled.

Trying to force my body to move, it wouldn't so I just shook my head. I wanted to comfort him for some odd reason, I just couldn't bring myself to do it either. I just shook my head. "I wont hurt you..." I whispered softly. "I can't... hurt you..."

He shifted on the floor on his side of the bed. "You just tried!?" He questioned. "And how can I trust you!?" He kept his voice in a whisper as so did I, it was oddly soothing.

"Because- I -" I stuttered. "Because... you just can. I- ugh.." The pain increased as I tried to move. It was pitch black and I couldn't see a thing. I couldn't see, but I defiantly could feel it. By the pain I could feel that it was bad, and was going to take a while to heal. I also knew that I shouldn't pull them out.

"Your in pain and a lot of it... You need help..." Jimmy's voice whispered softly. The fear was leaving his voice and was replaced with more concern.

"Thought you said that you couldn't trust me?" I mocked trying to hide my pain with the mockery.

A second later a light flipped on and I hissed in pain from the sudden brightness. Looking down at my leg I saw the big stain that I had caused myself, I felt pathetic at that moment to have Jimmy see me weakened like this. Looking at my hands I saw small cuts. 'Probably when I-' The Voice broke in.

A gasp from Jimmy, he was staring at my leg at the deep wound. I saw a red slash across his bare chest, the cut was slightly deep. A lick of anger surged through me, that bastard of a voice will pay. I vowed.

The tall black haired boy disappeared and reappeared in a matter of seconds and he was baring a first aid kit and a dripping washcloth. He dropped to his knees before me. His eyes widened at the sight of the knives that were buried to the hilts. He touched one. My blades hilts had a very intricate checkered pattern on them. I had made them my own.

"You made these, yourself?" He asked. I only managed a nod. "Beautiful..." He spared no time he grabbed one, "It's gonna hurt." I nodded. In a flash the knife was out, he repeated the same with the other, as soon as they were out he had the dripping cloth on my leg and was pressing hard.

My muscles spasmed, and I didn't even flinch."Hurts like hell!!"

"Sorry," he grabbed my hands with one hand and placed them on my wound. "Keep the pressure." He dug in the bag and got some stuff ready.

I noticed that he was in his boxers. Mentally slapping myself I thought it was not the time to think that at a time like this! Minutes later the wound in my leg was being stitched after it was cleaned. "How do you know all of this?" I found myself asking.

"Step mom, was a doctor. She taught me everything I know. Well one of my faster mom's at least. I had a lot of them..." He told me.

So he was an adopted/foster care child...

"Sorry to hear that...."

"Don't be." He said. "Made me independent."

Nodding, I said "I never knew my parents, grew up on the streets." All I remember is the last four years of my life because that was when The Voice really got involved into my life. Nothing before that...