Umm… yeah. Add-on of ‘Broken’, my first post and set in the ‘afterwards’ sort of setting. Total length is about 1500 words and took just over 2 hours.

I was going in a direction, then the writing GPS in my head got lost and directed me to crazy lane.

Warning, this chapter is rated “I” for insane. If you read on and get disturbed for any reason or perhaps laugh your guts due to going insane, you have been warned.

I have no idea what I just wrote and am posting it before I decide to scrap everything. Seriously.

(1:21 AM at time of posting)

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Oh how time flies in the eyes of an undying freak of nature. It’s already been 20-some-odd years and that little girl I met on that fateful day is all grown up. It feels as if not a single day has passed since I took it upon myself to help guide her. Ooh, this sort of thing always gets me in a poetic mood. Even if I am strung up by my feet, in an underground dungeon, and am talking to a stone faced hunk.

Though the time may pass

and beauty fades to wrinkles

You are in my heart

Maybe I should become a poet with my next mental reset.

… What are you looking at me like that for? You want to know what the heck happened these past 20+ years to me and that little girl? Fine. Wish granted.

Let’s see… with our initial meeting, I got shot no less than a total of 13 times and suicide charged them so that I could stab them repeatedly with my conveniently pre-sharpened pencils. As I tackled the first, the second started freaking out and decided it was safer to try peeling me off of his buddy. He was probably afraid of shooting his friend on accident. Whatever, the end result was a big help as it let me pin him to the ground, crucifixion style, before piercing his heart at my leisure and and enjoying the view.

What? You were expecting something cool like me going all ninja, jumping up in the air, twisting whilst front-flipping as I threw pencils into their eyes, dropped down, landed behind the second brute, and finished him off with a pencil to the jugular? Well too bad. I may be an immortal being that can’t die with literally centuries of experience, but sometimes getting down and dirty is more effective. Not to mention more fun. A guy’s gotta find something to do when he lives forever.

Man, you shoulda seen the look on their faces when they got charged by a dirty looking freak like me. Haha. Classic.

After that was all sort of a blur.

...By the look on your face I can tell you don’t buy it.

Ok, I admit that I remember it all but I simply don’t want to put in the effort of a long drawn out epic which would amount to: I saved a girl, I raised the girl, I taught the girl, …, profits, and here we now are in the present with me strung up by my feet, in an underground dungeon, and talking to a stone faced hunk.

Stop staring at me like that.

Seriously… stop it. You’re freaking me out man.

*covers eyes with hands* *peeks through fingers*

Fuck. It’s not working. What’s wrong with you! This always works!

Fine, I give up. Might as well tell you the basics so that you know what’s happened up to now.

Descriptions first.

Me: shaggy, sandy blonde hair long enough to cover my ears; oddly colored grey eyes; average height; generic face easily lost in a crowd; tattered hawaiian print button-up shirt; light denim blue jeans; and sturdy leather boots.

Girl: daughter of a now deceased crime lord; cute face, mix of oriental and caucasian; 14 years old; determination of an ox and the tenacity of a starved tiger hunting for meat; wearing typical teenage wear; and brown shoulder length hair, usually worn in a ponytail.

20 years later, she’s grown up to be quite the looker, but don’t let appearances fool ya, those looks conceal the ferocity of a war-bear. Half the fun of being around her is watching her beat the shit out of the guys that think it’s a good idea to hit on the local crimelord.

Haaha-ha-*cough**cough*...sigh. I think that’s enough crazy laughter for now.

Ahem, getting back to the story, I taught her how to cheat, swindle, lie, and more importantly, run a business. She was averse to the idea initially, but she soon warmed up to the task. What drove her was pure greed. I mentioned before that the only things that catch my interest was purity, right?

Anyways, after the first few years of playing bodyguard/meat-shield/go-to-scapegoat, her power and influence dominated over a third the city from the shadows. I’m not talking about some small-town stuff either. I mean Las Vegas sized shit. After that, all I had to do was sit back and enjoy the show. Free food, a nice warm bed, nice chick who just so happens to have a hold of most organized crime in the city practically worshiping me, what more could an eternal leech like me wish for. I had it good, so I might as well enjoy it.

Well, that pretty much brings things to a close. With the former innocent child turned yandere crime lord, she locked me up in her personal dungeon to admire and hold for her personal enjoyment. I don’t fault her though. Love does strange things to people; women more so than men it seems.

So… here I am. Hanging upsidedown. Talking to you.

Might I mention that it’s an honor to finally meet The Rock in person? I love your movies. The nickname matches you finely chiseled muscles perfectly.

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/lacky guard POV/

Two grunts dressed in dark clothes stand guard by a recessed door at the bottom of a flight of stairs.

Incoherent babbling can be heard from the grille in the door.

(grunt 1) “Hey, you think he’s finally cracked?”

(grunt 2) “He must have. To survive more than 20 years of The Mistress, he must be immortal or something. A guy can only take so much, even if the one dishing it out is a super hot chick.”

(grunt 1) “Don’t forget, she’s a super hot chick that’s got you by the balls and curled around her little finger. She might not look like it, but she can still kick a guy’s ass who’s twice her size.”

(grunt 2) “Ugh, don’t remind me about it. My backside is still sore from the beating she gave me when I got her the wrong sandwich.”

(grunt 1) “Sure, sure. I’ll drop it, if you get me connections with your sister’s friends. I hear some of them are single.”

(grunt 2) “Dude... Shut. Up.”

An awkward silence threatens to grow between the two only to be regularly broken by the steady stream of gibberish from the sole occupant of the locked room.

Grunt 1 glances at his watch and the time reads 6:30 AM on the digital LCD display.

(grunt 1) “Hey, it’s about time to check in on him and get him out of whatever he’s in while we’re at it. Rock-paper-scissors to see who does this round?”

(grunt 2) “I’m game, if it’ll mean the possibility of not entering that room.” *shudder* “The first time I went in there, I had nightmares for weeks… Okay, I’m ready now.”

The two grunts then proceed to ball their hands into fists and face each other.

(grunt 1) “Rock-Paper-Scissors.”

Grunt 1 draws scissors while grunt 2 has paper.

(grunt 2) “FUCK!”

(grunt 1) “No getting out of it now. Here’s the keys.” With that, he tosses a key ring to grunt 2.

Trying to calm his breath and steady his shaking hands, grunt 2 takes a moment to mentally quell the unease in his heart, then inserts the key into the lock and twists.

At first glance, the room is a simple brick room with no windows and a few tables covered in unknown devices with even more unknown purposes strewn about.

It’s best if I don’t think about those any more than I have to. Moving on now.

As he peers in, the babbling man is bound by his legs and hangs suspended by a chain to the ceiling, talking to a large rock with a face drawn on in sharpie. He’s wearing a bloodied shirt with the sleeves ripped off and the usual denim jeans.

Huh, seems tame this time around. At least it’s better than last time. grunt 2 thinks to himself, that is, until he decides to look into the far corner of the room.

(grunt 2) “HOLY SHI-” *thud* He promptly faints.

Notified of something wrong by both the scream and sound of something heavy hitting the ground, grunt 1 looks in to see what’s wrong. In the corner of the room lies a pile of bloody somethings. Realizing that further investigation will only serve to create the stuff of nightmares, grunt 1 wisely turns away and goes to assist grunt 2.

(grunt 1) Damn. She did it again, only worse this time. That’s a new level of messed up, even for her. Looks like I owe the new guy a drink later.

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A/N: Sorry, but can somebody tell me what the hell I just wrote?

I’m writing past midnight… again… and my head seems to be on insane mode.

I didn’t have the problem of my last two even though I wrote them well past midnight too. Then again, I did have a general outline in my head as to what I was doing with it… This one was ‘put crap on paper loosely related to ‘Broken’, check for grammar, and go’.

Uhh... I think future posts connected to the 'Broken' theme will only be loosely related. Sorry about that if you guys are expecting more of this time-frame.

Thanks for reading it if you got this far in the chapter to actually read this message.