Kobra Kid. It was the truest name he had ever been called, Fun Ghoul thought, when he saw Kobra crouched over his brother’s crumpled body. The peroxide blond man actually snarled at Fun Ghoul when he tried to approach the two. The filthy tangle of his golden hair served only to emphasize the hungry taut lines of his cheekbones, his expression one of fierce ugliness. Fun Ghoul had backed down immediately hands raised in surrender, unnerved at the way Kobra Kid started him down. He was like a cat gone still in readiness to pounce.
Never before had the ebony haired Killjoy seen Kobra Kid react in such a way. It seemed the death of his older brother had unchained a lurking animal from beneath his skin. But never before had there been reason to analyze the sharp glare of malice that flickered in his companion’s eyes after a firefight. Fun Ghoul too felt hatred towards Draculoids and the licensed oppression they stood for.
But Kobra had felt this all consuming hate to his very core for good reason as Fun Ghoul came to find out. He and Jet Star had waited until Kobra Kid had collapsed from exhaustion to quickly remove Party’s body from his grasp. Fun Ghoul clenched his jaw as the tears poured down his cheeks. Party Poison’s body had gone into rigor mortis, and the stench of his death and bowels clogged their noses as they carried him a little ways from Kobra.
“I’m going to take his jacket.” Fun Ghoul stated when they had laid him down. Jet Star nodded and after a struggle Fun Ghoul had the jacket in his hands. Absently he noted the heaviness of it, the pockets had things in them, but right now he was not concerned with that. It wasn’t until later that he would remember his observation. Upon unzipping the pockets the left revealed a small journal filled with sketches and entries, the right held a BL/ind prescription bottle filled with sky blue pills.
“What the hell?” Fun Ghoul whispered as he turned the bottle to read the label. The ground tilted a sickening degree when he read Mikey Way as the one prescribed to these little capsules. Kobra Kid had not been called by his birthname for two years. None of them had. It was one of the sacrifices this new world demanded. He remembered a moment later Party Poison’s journal, and began to read it full of dread.
2020, Bartskull Days
These new pills seem to be working. Kobra’s night terrors have gone away but he says he sleeps so deeply he can’t dream anymore. He doesn’t want to take them, and last night traded his meds for Human’s ativan. (He means Pete Wentz, Fun Ghoul realized with mounting sickness. Pete also takes BL/ind “medicine”. How many other Killjoys had secretly succumbed to them?) Human complained that Kobra’s zoloft made him exhausted. I wish Kobra didn’t trade his meds. I don’t know what will have a reaction with what.
2020, The Trade
Grenadier Vice, for a hefty trade, managed to find new meds for Kobra.
2021, Vampire Sickness
Kobra’s starting to hoard his medicine, taking it in larger doses. I don’t know if he’ll ever become normal again. I only hope that Jet Star and Fun Ghoul haven’t noticed. The latter would be disgusted if he knew that I was weak enough once to take Human and Kobra’s medications at the same time. It was the most beautiful sense of peace I’d felt since this guerilla war started I’ve kept a stash in my inner pocket just in case. Because one day this will all get to be too much and I’ve found I’d rather take the cowards’ way out then die with honor in battle. I only hope that Fun Ghoul would still love me if he knew my plans…
Fun Ghoul let out a harsh sob and could not stop the others that spilled out. He wept so hard his nose ran and spit fell from his mouth in spider strands.
If only Gerard had taken him with.