Darkness.
That was all he could see.
It wasn't from having his eyes closed, nor from lack of light. No
He was 'dead', so to speak. He could never 'die', something kept him from doing so. 'Ain't my fault, Comedy' A voice said. This was a voice that 'helped' him whenever he couldn't handle a "Problem", he'd often go into a Frenzy whenever he was insulted or hurt. And always. ALWAYS. Afterwards, he'd feel a burning anger and a desire to inflict pain on any who'd hurt him. 'Eye for an eye'. Or in Comedy's mind 'Limb for an insult'. How he ended up "dead" is a story for another time, for now a event kept on playing in his mind. it began a long time ago.
Comedy was sitting in a abandoned warehouse, it's location only known to him and his only true friend. His Sister. She was the only one who didn't see him as a Psychotic Killer, or as a Potential Weapon or a Tool to be used. No, she saw her brother behind that mask. Only she can remember the days before Comedy. Back when he didn't wear a mask and rip anyone foolish enough to insult him or bring harm upon her limb from limb. She remembered when She and him would go see horror movies together, and were there for each other when the other needed comfort. But now, he was Comedy. Even though he was a Murderer who literally couldn't be stopped, she cared for him and would attempt to salvage what was left of her brother.
If there was anything to salvage
Comedy would often draw pictures to pass the time, cause hiding out in a abandoned warehouse. Tends to get boring after a while. He was doing that as she walked in. "Good morning, Comedy" she said with cheerful tone. Comedy placed down his notebook and pencil to wave in greeting at her. "I brought some books to for ya," She said. "So that way, you don't have to draw all day when I'm not here." Comedy tilted his head. His sister only smirked as if she could decipher his particular way of 'speaking'. "Don't worry, I didn't bring you any of those crappy kid books." She said still holding the smirk on her face. She then pulled off her backpack and held it out to him. Of which he'd gently grab and open it. There were a few good novels, as he pulled the novels out. He'd hand the backpack to her.
"Thanks," She said as she slid the backpack on. "Anyways, I have to go somewhere." She hugged him, of which he'd gently return as to knock accidently break her back. Afterwards she would start to walk away to entrance/exit to the warehouse, Comedy watching as she did so.
She was almost to where her car was, but right next to it was a Camaro. When a man walked into view. He looked like a cliché jock. "Hey there, pretty thing." The jock said with a bit of a southern accent. She scoff and attempt to walk past him, but he blocked her path "Where do ya think you're goin'?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Get out of my way, Creep." This caused the jock's to scrunch up in anger "What did you just call me?" He asked, his voice full of anger and annoyance. "You heard me." She said. The jock would suddenly smack her across the face, causing her to fall backward. "Don't you ever DARE call me that!" He practically yelled at her. She slowly got up, she happened to look up to see a very familiar white mask in the distance.
"If you value your life, you will run." She said with bit of worry, for she knew was about to happen.
"What's gonna happen?" The jock asked with a mocking tone in his voice. She looked at him. "Run now." She said with worry. The jock only laughed at this, he then reeled his hand back. But before he could slap her, something grabbed of his hand. As he turned around, he was greeted by a hooded man wearing a snow white mask that bore a small smile upon it. "Who the fu-" The jock said before being cut off as Comedy lifted the jock by his throat, before he'd squeeze the jock's throat. His sister would see this, she'd run up to him and grab his arm. "No, no! Stop! You're killing him!" The jock's face was practically blue at this point. Comedy looked at her, then back to the Jock. He'd lower the jock's face so he was level with his mask, emitting a low growl to him before throwing the jock away. The jock got up quickly running to his car and rummaged around for something.
Comedy's sister stood infront of him. "You could've killed him!" She said practically steaming with anger. As she went on and on about this. Comedy noticed something shiny behind, wasting no time he suddenly grab her and used himself as a shield as a number of gunshots went off. All the while his sister screamed, he slowly lessened his grip to notice that she was shaking profoundly. But not from the cold, he looked down to see a small hole over where her heart was. He put his hand over the wound in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding, but it was too late. She looked up at his mask. "B-brother...." She said weakly, while reaching up to touch his mask. Her arm soon fell to her side. He looked at her, before holding her body close to him. Silently crying, he let out a inhuman scream.
'Punish. Avenge.' A voice chanted in his head.
The voice kept on chanting this, before subconsciously. He'd look at the Jock, who had a expression of pure fear upon his face. Upon seeing the jock, Comedy's vision went red with anger. He lowered his sister's body to the ground gently, before snapping his attention to the where the jock stood. He then began stomping over to him, the jock pathetically tried to run away. Only to trip on a rock, before he had a chance to get up. Comedy put his foot on the back of the jock , before grabbing the rock. He'd flip the jock over, and began to bash his face in with the rock. 'Punish. Avenge' repeated in head multiple times, he didn't even notice he quickened the speed of the bashings. Before long, the anger faded away. He looked at the jock's face only to see that the front of the skull was caved in, the brain was a mushy like minced meat. He dropped the rock which had some brain matter on it, as he went to his sister lay. He gently picked her up, and walked to a area of the nearby forest. Soon coming across a spot, he put her body down, as he began to dig a grave with his gloved hands. Once the grave was dug, he picked up her body and placed her in it. he pushed all of the dirt on top of her body, patting it down so that the dirt was somewhat smoove. He made a makeshift gravestone out of sticks.
He stared at the grave, before turning to walk off as it began rain.
