The composure of the work (the way itâ€™s strung together) is deliberately loose to build feeling. Itâ€™s very quiet inside the mind of Fingâ€¦ yet so very loud.
For those who are clueless, Fing, the central character, is one of the main characters in an amateur comic I do called Stick U. He is a stickbod. Basically a stickbod is a single-pieced body (in his case, skinny and ribs showing), with stick figure limbs, but well-drawn cartoon head and hands. Elbows and knees are circles.
Fing is a teen genius, I mean mastermind genius, with every mental disorder currently known to man, and a few more. He shares an apartment in college with an NRA/CIA/Mafia who has an afro loaded with guns (cartoon, remember), and the gay illegitimate son of Elvis Presley who was raised by Elton John. I know itâ€™s not very feasible, but hell, itâ€™s a cartoon.
In this fic he battles with the constant disadvantage of his most crushing disorder.
This fic in no way insults people with such disorders. It is more of an outlet for myselfâ€¦ Fing is the deepest character Iâ€™ve ever made and I have big plans for him. This particular piece only scratches the surface.
For the record, his full name is Fingworth Bladesheen. His knifeâ€™s name is Rosa.
MIND OF THE MADMAN
A pitiful fic by David Macintyre
Bleed I say.
Thatâ€™s itâ€¦ I knew you would learn to respect me. I knew youâ€™d eventually listen to me. Youâ€™d see things my way.
Of course, you did need a little persuasionâ€¦
A little persuasionâ€¦
That Iâ€™ll live to regret.
But dear me, whatâ€™s a little razor between friends?
Seeâ€¦ itâ€™s not so badâ€¦ youâ€™re not struggling anymoreâ€¦
Are you comfortable? Iâ€™ve seen all I want to seeâ€¦ a little redâ€¦ a little bloodâ€¦
You can go nowâ€¦ that is if you want toâ€¦
How nice! You want to stay. My, you must be tired. Look at you, lying there, you canâ€™t even move. Of course, the fact that I just slit your wrists may have something to do with it. But my, what a day youâ€™ve hadâ€¦
Here, Iâ€™ll just lay you on the couchâ€¦
You know, if I put your arms like thisâ€¦ what do you know. You look just like Sleeping Beautyâ€¦
Iâ€™m going to my room now.
I woke up screaming.
It was terrifying.
I keep having that dreamâ€¦
Would you like to hear about my dream?
It happens every couple of weeksâ€¦ but not frequently enough to be recurrent.
In this dream, I am a madman.
I always am.
But in this dream, even more. I am much more than a quiet, kleptomaniac boy with a high IQ and a passionate taste for violent movies and porn. In my dream, I am a silent, kidnapping man with a genius credit, a cunning tactical intelligence, and a passion, nay, clamoring for violent pastimes and rape. Oh, and I like meatâ€¦
Thatâ€™s the problem.
In my dream, I like meat.
Particularly the red part.
And then, every time it happens, every time I have this dreamâ€¦
Thereâ€™s a dead person on our couch.
Itâ€™s always a woman. And sheâ€™s always laid out nicely, with her arms set on her chest, to hide the slits on the underside of her wristsâ€¦ god, itâ€™s so frighteningâ€¦ every time it happens, I have to fight to keep Elliot from coming out and tossing us off of a building. And I have an amazing struggle trying to keep Wesley calm. Poor kidâ€¦
We know whatâ€™s happening, though.
Every time I have this psychotic dream, and wake up, the others know. And we all know whatâ€™s going onâ€¦ we all know which one of us did it.
I hate him. And I scowl at the fact that we both share the same nameâ€¦
He is evil me. Evil Fingâ€¦
I heard a woman scream in the living roomâ€¦ Elve was already awake. And no doubt heâ€™d walked in, planning to make some toast and cook the rest of us some breakfast, because he enjoyed it. And then he walked in, and all his assumptions that the killings had finally stopped had been shattered. Then he screamed.
I thanked Artemis for his prediction. I inquired Elve afterwards, and he informed me that indeed Artemis was right.
Elve, being his worrisome self, was quick to inform our friend, the CIA and Mafia agent Benedict â€œBangoâ€