Painkiller - Huskerdust

Intro to Anthony

Chapter 1

Have you ever wanted to escape? Or... wanted the noise to stop?

Well I have, and might I say, I've found quite a few solutions. 

You can either drown out the noise with even louder noise, or you can find a way to turn it off.

There's the simpler options, like suicide, harming yourself or drinking yourself to death, and all of those are fun, they're fine, but I don't actually want to be in pain, or to die.

I just want hell to leave me alone, and I am part of hell.

So I found something easier, something that could kill me, but definitely not as fast. It's much more fun too. 

It started with drinks, as most things do.

Abusive relationships, legal trouble, liver problems. All of those can be due to drinking.

But it wasn't the drinks that got to me.  I could live without it, but I'll still never say no to a whiskey at the end of the day.

It's the stuff that comes after that. When you've hung around a bar late enough to see the people shuffling into the bathrooms in a single file line. Too many of them to all be urinating at the same time.

Or when you're stood outside of that same bar, and you catch a whiff of something in someone's cigarette.

It's not a cigarette, it's weed, it's a joint. And you're drunk enough that you gladly accept when someone offers you a hit. You don't know what it does, you've never tried it before, but by the looks in those people's eyes tells you it can't be that bad.

And it isn't that bad. You feel relaxed, you feel as if you could fall asleep while standing, but at the same time you can't seem to close your eyes because you are thinking too much, nothing bad, just about everything.

But the weed wasn't enough. It was good, but I felt I was constantly chasing the best high I had. And no matter how much I smoked, I never reached that level again. The taste began to make me sick, even just the smell, I couldn't imagine ever having it in my mouth again.

And I tried, when I needed a break from everything else, I tried it, and it just felt wrong. Maybe I was spoilt by the powders.

Oh, the powders.

Before we come to that, we come to the pill. The original form of those powders. Though it's not those exact powders, even though you can find a percentage of that pill in the powders.

The pills get you first. You're at a club or a rave and you don't feel like drinking two bottles of hard liquor to get on the same level as everyone else around you, so your friend offers you a small pill that'll make you feel full of love. And you take it, because you think it won't be any worse than the other stuff.

And it doesn't feel worse, but it is worse. You suddenly love everyone around you, and your eyes can't look straight. Your jaw moves in a similar manner to an eel in an aquarium. Open, closed, open, closed. Like you're gasping for air.

It feels amazing, it feels like your body is engulfed in a tight hug, and you run and you feel free, but the next day you feel like shit, and you realise even alcohol didn't bring you this down the day after.

But one day you don't care about the day after anymore, you're already miserable. You want to feel good. But the pills don't cut it anymore. You've fried your brain so hard that it can't force the happiness out of you with it's magic.

You go back to drinking, you drink so much more, you land in the hospital once or twice.

One day, late at night, someone asks you to join the single file line into the bathroom, and you do. Your head hurts from the consistant hangover that doesn't go away since the bottle doesn't either.

When it's your turn, you're given a straw, and you ask 'How do I do it?' and the men laugh and they tell you to just inhale. And you do. And it's almost instant, the change.

The hangover is gone, you feel happy, not as happy as from the pills, but you feel better. 

You find a way to get this powder for yourself, and you start using it more than you down a bottle. Infact, you drink less since starting with powder. 

And you don't stop at the powder. You only think to yourself, how much better could this get?

You and your friends decide to try more. You try a different pill, one to relax, and it does, and your mind is quiet. But it isn't as fun. It's not your favourite.

Then you try a different powder, and this is the one you've been searching for. The one that stops the noise, that turns everything off. 

You found your escape.

I found my escape.

And it's a high price to pay though.

I couldn't get enough. I needed more and more and more until I had all I could handle.

And it cost me my life.

Luckily, when you're in hell, it can't kill you twice.

I sell my body to afford my drugs, it's not the best earning job, but it's honest work. 

It isn't actually. It's acting. I'm envious of people who do it for love.

And I didn't do this while I was alive. Trust me, I had no need to do this shit back then. But down here it doesn't matter. I don't want responsibilities. I'm dead, it's pointless.

I'll fuck and I'll get high and eventually I'll be so gone that I never care for a thing ever again.

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hello i love writing and im hyperfixating on hazbin hotel so why not write abt huskerdust and i swear to god its so obvious theyre going to be canon in season 2 like cmon the closet is GLASS and i love that theyre are soft. this fic however will NOT be soft. pain for you guys! hahah