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Into the Web	By : Florville Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > Crossover Views: 2436 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Invader Zim, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
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Additional disclaimer: This chapter contains torture and it’s a wee bit gruesome. Fellow juggalos will get the ICP reference.

CHAPTER SIX

Dib came around to find that his trenchcoat, shirt and holster had been removed, and that his own handcuffs had been used to bind his wrists to the latch of an old dumpster behind the remaining wall of the café. Dib’s eyes widened in horror when he saw what was left of his fallen companion strewn on the ground all around him, and he barely managed to keep himself from puking. Shuddering, he lifted his head slightly to see a thin, wiry frame watching him from the shadows. “I know imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but you’re pretty goddamned far off the mark with this one, asshole.”

“The name is Jimmy. My friends call me Mmy, though.”

“Oh, great, I’m being held hostage by a cheap imitation.” Dib’s head was jerked to the side by a vicious kick to the jaw, the pointed steel toe on his assailant’s knee-high boot leaving a gash in his skin.

“What would you know about my personal hero?”

The Agent shook his head, blood running from the corner of his mouth and one of his nostrils as he clenched his fists in the cuffs. “He isn’t a rapist, for one.”

Mmy laughed. “I know. I was just having fun.”

“And he has no tolerance for people like you.”

“People like me?” Eyes narrowing, Dib’s wiry aggressor knelt down in front of him, flipping a switchblade open.

Dib clenched his teeth, eyes narrowing hatefully. “All surface and no depth. Cruelty without reason or remorse…discrimination and bigotry.”

“Bigotry?” Mmy frowned stupidly.

“You’re doing this because I’m a fag.” Dib spat.

Eyes brightening, Mmy waved the blade and grinned. “Ooh, you’re pretty smart for a cop!”

“I’m an FBI Agent.” Dib kept his eyes on Mmy’s face rather than the switchblade the killer was toying with.

One brow quirking slightly, Mmy seemed to consider this. “Then why was it so easy to do this to you? Aren’t you supposed to be all smart and intelligent?”

Dib rolled his eyes. “That depends on my basis for comparison, and thank fuck it isn’t you.”

After fifteen minutes had passed, Dib was almost grateful that Strange had met his end so quickly, both because of the torture he himself was enduring, and because of how horrifying it might’ve been for the young officer to watch.

After being brutally pistol-whipped with his own gun and having the word ‘FAG’ carved into him countless times with Mmy’s switchblade, Dib was now forced to watch as the depraved killer dangled what was left of his right eye in front of his face.

“Didn’t SEE that one coming, did you?” Mmy laughed in Dib’s face and threw the eye against the side of the dumpster. “How do you like me now, fag-bitch?”

Fighting not to retch, Dib spat a mouthful of blood in Jimmy’s face and snarled at him, his left eye narrowing hatefully. “You’re goddamned pathetic. You’re a zit-faced little fuckhead, idolizing someone better and smarter than you’ll ever be. He may not get caught or hauled in front of a judge for what he’s done, but you can bet your sick sorry ass that you will. And if he ever meets you, he’s not going to want to associate with you. In fact, I’d bet any money that he’d kill you.”

Mmy pulled out a zippo, scowling at the agent as he wiped the blood and spit from his cheek. “I’m gonna enjoy burning your other eye out.”

There was a swishing sound that ended in a sickening crunch, and Jimmy started screaming as he writhed on the ground, blood pouring out of the stump where his left arm had been a moment before.

“What are you doing?!” Mmy screeched, looking up at the axe-wielding maniac he’d worshipped from afar for so long. “Why are you hitting ME? I’m just like you, I—”

There was another crunch, and Johnny stepped back, growling as he looked down at where he’d just embedded the axe in his imitator’s pockmarked face. “I don’t like myself much,” he muttered, slipping his hands into his pockets as he walked over to where Dib was cuffed to the dumpster latch, picking up the can of cherry Fizz-Wizz he’d set down on the lid of a nearby trash can.

Taking a long sip, Nny set the can aside and began rifling through Dib’s jacket, eventually pulling out a small set of keys, quirking a brow slightly. “Are these for your handcuffs?”

Squinting slightly with his left eye, Dib nodded. “Yeah.”

“Are you going to try and arrest me if I undo them?”

Dib gave a half-hearted laugh. “No, I’m going to call an ambulance. I couldn’t cuff you if I wanted to.”

Walking over to him, Johnny crouched down between Dib’s spread legs and looked him in the eye. “Why?”

Beginning to tremble as the adrenaline drained from his system, the Federal Agent drew a shaky breath. “I dislocated my right shoulder pulling at the cuffs. Old injury…it’s my own damn fault for aggravating it.”

Pursing his lips slightly, Nny reached up and undid the handcuffs, frowning slightly as he played with the metal circlets.

“Did you mean all those things you said?”

Dib blinked, frowning a little. “Which things specifically?”

“You said I was smart…how would you know that? You only talked to me for a few minutes yesterday.”

“It was basically a deduction. Either you were intelligent, or you were insane, random, and a Beethoven nut…but from what I could already tell after meeting you, I leaned more towards you being an intellectual.” Dib pulled out his cellphone with his left hand, grimacing as his dislocated shoulder violently protested even the small shift in his weight. “I recognized the scraps of that album cover I found when I was combing the café. It’s a limited edition pressing, only five thousand copies made. I happen to have one.” Dib shuddered, fighting back a sudden wave of nausea as he dialed 9-1-1. “Only intellectuals and classical music aficionados would bother with such a rare item, really. Pretentiousness will only carry certain listeners so far.”

“You’re not stupid like the rest of the people here,” Johnny stated flatly, his brow furrowed slightly.

Licking his dry lips, Dib cleared his throat. “It’s a blessing and a curse, really.” Taking a shuddering breath, he spoke to the 9-1-1 dispatcher, giving his location. “I’m a cop, Dib Membrane. My fellow officer and the assailant are both code 5.” After answering a few questions, Dib flipped the cell phone closed and tossed it aside, picking up what was left of his dress shirt and holding it against the right side of his face, applying as much pressure as he could to the empty eye socket, which was still bleeding.

Nny sat down, his spindly legs spread out to either side as he leaned back on one hand, sipping at his cherry Fizz-Wizz. “Are you going to get a glass eye?”

Dib flinched. “I don’t think it would work…he damaged the socket pretty bad.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Yeah.”

Johnny looked over at the opening to the alleyway, then back at Dib. “Glass eyes are really creepy. I don’t like them.”

“Neither do I,” Dib grimaced and spat a mouthful of blood onto the pavement.

“So what happened to your shoulder anyway?”

The question made Dib tense, and he closed his good eye. “I was attacked a long time ago.”

Nny nodded, finishing his Fizz-Wizz and crunching the can in his fist, tossing it away. “On a case or something?”

“No…” Dib clenched his teeth for a moment. “It happened when I was 10.”

Johnny frowned. “I kill people who hurt children. I hate them.”

Dib opened his good eye again, gazing at Johnny for a long time before speaking. “I hate them too…but I can’t really subscribe to your form of problem-solving.” He pressed his shirt a little harder against his damaged eye socket, groaning in relief when he heard a siren approaching. “Guess that’s your cue to leave, huh?”

Nny blinked. “Why?”

“Two officers down means there’s gonna be cops on the way.” Dib smirked, “Ones with two eyes and functional shoulders.”

Johnny actually laughed, rising to his feet. “So, you’re going to try to arrest me again when you’re better?”

Despite the horrendous amount of pain he was in, Dib chuckled softly. “Try nothing. I’m going to arrest you and that’s the way it’s gonna be.”

Nny walked to the end of the alleyway, smiling and shaking his head, pausing when Dib called out.

“Nny?”

Looking over his shoulder with a moderately surprised expression, Johnny quirked a brow. “Yes?”

Dib nodded slowly. “Thanks.”

Johnny stood there for a long moment, then smiled back at the injured officer before waving a hand and disappearing into the night.

*****
To Lydia Marie: I love you too! Hee! ^^ Homicide is a purtyful thing when Nny is the one committing it ;)

To Tesgura: Hope this chapter answered your question ;) Thank you for reviewing, hun. *huggles*
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