A killJoy fanfic... NOT involving the band members from MCR (yet), just a number of original characters :3
Just some little fun to right, something less dreary and depressing than my other stories I've posted
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Being out here in the desert, on the run from the brain-washing Better Living Industries, it’s got its good’s and bad’s, or really as it should be called, it’s terrible’s. The goods: You get to do whatever you want, say whatever you say. You do things your own way, be who you are. But that’s if the Draculoids don’t discover you, which is without a doubt one of those terrible things I mentioned that can happen. My friends and I, or as we like to be called, The Cyanide Biters, have had a few run-ins with the Draculoids in the past. Now there’s a situation I don’t want to be in again, and I’d rather not explain what happened, just for the sake of my sanity. But right now, I’m pretty happy with life, chillin’ out in the sand dunes amongst the snakes and spiders and other creepy crawlers. I’ve got my 3 best buddies with me. Adrenaline Gunner, Crash Cola and Black Widow. I’ve got my beauty of a 1979 FXEF Fat Bob Harley Davidson motorbike ‘Night Stalker’ and my beloved brown and green poncho, which is one of the only reminiscent I have from my life before the fires, before The End of the World happened. You see, we’re outlaws, rebels, outcasts, freedom fighters, whatever you want to call us. We are part of a wave of resistance that is fighting back against BL.ind. And although our allies are few and far between, we still have hope that we can bring this world back to its former glory.
“SHIT!” Adrenaline Gunner shouted. Her yelp echoed into the dark abyss of the California outback. Her marshmallow had caught fire, and was now melting all over the bonfire we had created. A small trail of deliciously sweet smelling smoke drifted from what was burning puffy goodness, and rose into the cold air. Gunner waved around her stick, thrusting the marshmallow back and forth, almost hitting Crash Cola in the face on multiple swings.
“Gah!” Crash screamed and jumped back over the log she was sitting on, as the flaming marshmallow came just a bit too close for comfort. Gunner continued to wave the torch around, and was now running in circles a few metres away from the fire so that she would not hit anyone. Black Widow sat there, cracking up laughing, which in fact sounded like a hyena. I chuckled to myself as I shifted my position on the cold desert rock, watching the accidental slapstick comedy show that Gunner was performing in front of me. The flame then spread to the actual stick itself, and it was burning the dry wood at an exceeding pace, crawling up and around the stick like the Draculoids do when they surround you in a surprise ambush.
“Dude! You gotta throw that stick away!” I said with a smile on my face. To my left, Widow doubled over in hysterics and then tumbled onto the sand, crumbling up like plastic does when you put it under extreme heat. Gunner flung the stick in the air sideways, and it whooshed into the darkness of the desert night.
“Fucking marshmallow!” Gunner cursed and came and sat back down, picking up yet another stick and placing another pillow of marshmallow into its tip. She then passed around the bag in a clockwise direction to the rest of us around the bonfire.
“Y’know, I heard that there was an exterminator who had a run in with a bunch of rebels around 150 miles north of here not too long ago. Of course, the rebels won, but apparently the exterminator’s draculoid friend got away.” I told to the rest of the group.
“And where did you find that out?” Gunner asked, poking another marshmallow into the fire. Crash sat on her log, wide-eyed, at the information she was hearing. She unconsciously pushed an uncooked marshmallow into her parted lips and started chewing. “I heard it on the radio, the Wave, Dr. Death Defying.” The rest of the girls nodded. Dr. Death Defying was our guidance, our protector. He and his crew had set up a secret radio signal, which was hopefully undiscoverable to BL.ind. The Wave was a personal signal we shared with only Dr. D and his crew. It allowed us to call him whenever we needed, without the rest of the rebels knowing. He told us where the exterminators were heading, who they were hunting down, even what the weather was going to be. He was our saviour. He was all of the resistance’s saviour and guidance. And man, were we thankful for that. It helped us know that we were not alone in this struggle for survival.
“I heard they were called the Killjoys.” Widow suddenly piped in, sharing glances with everyone in the circle.
“Oh… well, let’s just hope they survive, now that they’ve got a Drac on their tails.” I said. I lowered my head. Everything was quiet. And then a wolves’ howl could be heard in the distance. The beast’s cry was amazing. It travelled through all of us, evoking a sense of distance and hopelessness. It sounded so alone, so scared. It was electrifying. Another howl sounded, this time coming from Crash Cola’s mouth. We all stared at her and her black and purple hair. Everything was silent, except for the crackling of the bonfire. She encircled her mouth with her hands; her black nail polish was chipping off. She cried out again. This time the lonely wolf howled back. A grin erupted on Crash’s face and she looked at us all with excitement. Her wide, eyeliner drenched eyes bulging as they normally do when excitement filled her. I cupped my hands to my face and joined in. I howled, as loud and as proud as I could. And then the wolf replied. Crash Cola joined in and the three of us, including the wolf, hollered together in a triumphant battle cry, to let each other know that we were not completely alone in this desert.
“Guys, don’t you think that howling would attract the wolves towards us?” Gunner interrupted. Widow’s face suddenly turned from wonder to one of a scared expression, and she hugged her knees tightly against her chest. Gunner raised her eyebrows and squished them together in the centre of her forehead.
“I’m not scared of the wolves.” I replied. It was true. I had never been one to fear nature. I felt at one with it. I breathed and lived just as the animals did and I was ready to face whatever it threw at me, whether it was friendly or not.
“Yeah! Me neither.” Crash added. Crash Cola had been slowly adopting my ways of nature, in which I was greatly proud of. Widow suddenly threw herself at Gunner, and whimpered like a dog scared in a thunderstorm.
“I don’t want the wolves to come, Gunner!” She cried, looking distressingly at Gunner while Gunner held her in her arms, like a mother cuddling her child. Gunner was a few years younger than Widow, who was in fact the oldest, but Gunner had the extreme maturity that Widow obviously lacked.
“Alright then…” Gunner sighed, “But if the wolves come, I’m out of here and you can stay back and fend them off.” She said, standing up off the log she shared with Crash and dusting her palms. She attempted to push Widow off her side with great difficulty. Widow finally detached her grip on Gunner. “Welp, I’m going to sleep.” She said, walking over to her motorbike. She came back with a wrapped up blanket in her hands. She began to settle herself down in between the bonfire and the log, which Crash was also slowly departing from. Gunner placed the roll of blanket between her head and the sand, pulled her red leather jacket tightly over herself and closed her eyeliner covered eyelids. “Good night, Cyanides.”
We all sighed and slowly lied down in our own spots around the bonfire. We said our good nights and shut our weary eyes. Noises of the desert filled the air, which mainly consisted of chirping crickets and the occasional owl’s hoot.
I wonder where you are, Killjoys.
