Hello, you know who I am. But, f**k it, I’ll tell you anyways. My name is Glitch. This story isn’t very long, but it is somewhat sad. But lets face it, no ones life is a goddamn sitcom. It all started a week after my brother crashed his car into a lake in a drunk driving incident. He was only seventeen years old. Given, he always had a knack for being a total s**t for brains. Anyway, we were going through his sunken car, and salvaged all that we could. Books, homework, and anything like that was totally f****d. The police had arrested all his friends for technical murder. His friends all paid for the car, and paid off his tuition. But there was one thing money couldn’t fix. My brother was dead. And no amount of money could fix that. My parents never did buy a new car. They paid off his tuition. They say that when things can’t get worse, someone will come around to prove you wrong. Well, I thought things couldn’t get worse. My parents became alcoholics. They got violent, and when they started to throw punches, I would try to stop them. My father smacked me down and my mother kicked me. I suppose I grew a shell after that. My friends tried to help, you know.
” I understand,” and ” things will get better.”
I like to say ” things get worse before they get better.”
I had to stay after school one day for schoolwork, and texted my dad stating so. It was six o’clock when I finally got home. My dad was standing in the kitchen, leather belt tied around his fist.
“So,” he slurred ” Where ya been, dude?”
” I had a lot of schoolwork, so I had to stay after school.” I replied.
“O’really?,” My dad punched me in the chest, knocking me to the ground, gasping for air.
” Why didn’t y’text me?” He asked, looking sideways at me.
“I… Did.” I gasped.
” Hm.” My dad said. A series of whips followed.
“Y’know, Lukey-doo,” he said between whips “Yer so easy to hurt, to abuse… To break.”
” Dont call me that.” I shouted ” Only my dad calls me that.”
” I amyer dad!” He snarled.
“No,” I said,” my parents died with my brother.”
He threw another punch, and somehow, I caught it.
‘Do it, dooo it,’ a voice whispered in my mind,’ betcha wont, p***y.’
I punched my father in the nose. He recoiled and yelled in pain. I walked over to the knife drawer, and pulled the large chefs knife out, the cold steel blade making a menacing shinging noise.
” Y’won’t do s**t, you little f****r.” My dad growled. I felt my cheeks contract into a smile.
” Oh really?”, I jumped up and over the kitchens island, knocking several overdue bills and month old magazines to the floor. I dragged the blade across my dad’s eyeball, him screaming with pain. I did that several more times on his face. I darted up the stairs to my bedroom, I immediately saw what I was looking for. A painted white mask with a red smile. I grabbed my butterfly knife, spring action knife, my bowie-knife, slingshot, my multitool and momo key chain, and then ran out to the garage where I found a machete, two hatchets, and a baseball bat. I didn’t have to run, we lived in the country, seven miles away from the nearest town. I hopped on my dads motorcycle, which he always left the keys in, pulled on the goggles, and kicked that m**********r to life. I saw my mother with my twenty gauge, shooting three shots at me, none even close. I heard the police sirens, they were at least three miles away. I went east, and never looked back.
THREE MONTHS AFTER:
“The black clad man in the white mask has struck again. Three months ago, the sixteen year old boy assaulted his father and stole multiple items from them, including a 2014 Harley Davidson with apingers.”
Carl flicked off the television.
” What a load of garbage.” one of the customers said.
Carl gasped ” Im so sorry sir! Ho-”
” Gas on pump twelve.” the Black clad man said, setting down a drink and a bag of chips. ” Whats the damage?” he asked.
” twenty-five bucks.” Carl replied
” Excuse me, son,” Sheriff Hicks approched the counter ” Do you think its funny to dress like a murder suspect?”
“Excuse me.” the Man in black said.
He pulled the sheriffs gun out of its holister, and shot five times in the chest, and turned to Carl.
” Sorry,” the man said “No witnesses.”
Carl blacked out. Never to wake again.
The police arrived at the scene of a murder, and reveiwed the security tapes. The only one to have arrived other than the sheriff, was a black clad man, but they never saw his face.
” Hey uh, Phillipson.” Officer O’Hanks called into the Deputies office.
“Ahem, yes? Please enter.” He called out.
“We got a name for this guy.”
“Yep, he calls himself Glitch, do you recognise this insignia?”
“That abnormal fire pattern over in Denver?”
“Do you think they’re related?”
“Can’t rule it out as a possibility. Keep investigateing this one, then reopen the Denver Incident”
“Yes sir.” O’Hanks walked away, and left Sheriff Phillipson to think to himself.
“Glitch, huh?” he mumbled, ” Lucas Thomssen and Toby Rodgers working togther? Hm, curious…” Sheriff Phillipson turned to find the Denver incident file and examine it more thouroghly. Whatever this was, was bigger than Sheriff Johnny Phillipson.
Thanks for reading.
Note: I do not own and will never claim ownership of Ticci Toby or his origin story. All rights of ownership go to Kastaway(? Did I spell that right?)
Please do not alter this story without notifiying me first, then writing your own story. Please credit me for the character. And credit any other characters. Dont be a 8==D
Again thanks for reading! To the Proxys!