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Note: Overtime is a sequel to S.Z., which is a sequel to Walk of Delirium and Derangement: A Bloody Road, which is a sequel to Walk of Doom, which is an official Invader Zim episode. Spoilers ahead.

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Chapter One: Fade

Zim stared down at the cold ruby plasma on his hands. He slightly remembered the sight of someone’s demise, but he did not recall murdering anyone. “How did I get into this mess? What is this?” Then Zim took a glance at the blood again, and replied to himself with, “I don’t even want to know what this was about. Never tell me, like, ever.” But while he was walking out of his base, he heard a voice identical to his own, demonic yet soft, whispering…

“You’re missing out on a wild ride!”

Curious to see what was awaiting him, the boy turned around.

But nobody was there.

“It’s like playing with fire, if you get my drift!”

Zim looked again to his backside, but he saw nothing.

“You must be heathens. Heathens is code-word for HELL.”

Zim disregarded the voice this time around.

“IF YOU KEEP IGNORING IT, IT WON’T FUCKING GO AWAY, YOU IDIOT!” The voice was screeching this time.

The Irken was rather perturbed by the sudden and thunderous words, so much so that he tried to scamper his way out of the base like a gerbil on a spinning wheel. All the while he was running, light started to dim, and there were bloody cryptic writings on the wall, driving his movement to a further speed. One read, “I THOUGHT YOU WEREN’T AFRAID OF THE DARK…” and another read: “THE TRUTH IS ENGRAVED IN THEIR SOULS…” and another: “THE MORE YOU LOOK AWAY, THE WORSE IT GETS…” Zim immediately opened the door out of his house, but Dib was waiting for him, with a kitchen knife in his hand. “You’re paying, Zim. You’re paying quite the debt.” Zim scurried away again, but Dib chased after him. “Try to run, Zim, yes, try to fucking run. You’ll definitely get out of this one by running, oh yes, running.”

The desperate green boy, as he sprinted away, started to feel like nothing would make a difference. No matter how fast he ran, there would always be something to demolish his escape. The final key ending to his story would be a deplorable one, no matter how seemingly lucky he had been in any other events. But, he still had the nerve to keep running in hopes that he would win this game of eternal hide and seek. Just as he had that thought, he noticed Professor Membrane standing right next to Dib, looking rather irritated with the situation at hand. “Come back here! And you’re grounded for the rest of the year.” Dib and Membrane sauntered away from Zim. Zim wiped sweat from his forehead, and sighed.

Chapter Two: Party Of Two Halves

At the very next day in Zim’s skool, the boy was totally silent, and mostly avoided the attention of his classmates. He had this notion that if he said or did something, the other children would pick up on his quirky behavior and possibly request a Crazy Card on him, and he already was feeling demented and disturbed to begin with. After all, he had just a few months ago saw a monkey escort him back to his base with his magical god powers. The principal came into the classroom, with an announcement to make. “Okay class, Miss Bitters is dead, so I am going to give you a new replacement teacher. Everybody, meet Professor Membrane.” Membrane explained, “Okay class, we will learn about the Periodic Table of Elements today.” The principal walked out of the classroom. Zim was unnerved at this sight. This is Dib’s father! Who knows what he’s going to do?

Many hours passed, Zim wasn’t paying attention to anything in that time period. He was just hugging himself in his chair, shivering, with wide eyes. Nothing would be important to him anyway, when he supposedly KNEW his grim fate would tell this tale a full one.

“Cold?” questioned Membrane. Zim hesitated for a few seconds to think, but then he replied with in a slightly high-pitched, extremely soft voice: “Um… no… sir.”

“Oh really, boy, is that so?” interjected Membrane.

“I-It is so,” mumbled Zim.

“Alright then. I swear to god, Zim, one of these days you will catch AIDS or something,” scoffed the newly recruited teacher.

An announcement was upcoming on the skool intercom. “Students of the skool, we are in lockdown mode, I repeat, we are in lockdown mode. This is not a drill, there is an actual dangerous man within our campus. Get ready to hide now.” The children hid in the down left corner of the classroom.

Zim was getting extremely bored out his mind while hiding. His boredom left him a thought in the back of his head.

What are you doing? Why aren’t you getting up and defending yourself? Why can’t you save your life? If it’s in such fatal danger, why can’t you protect it? Stop fucking hiding and stand up! Why must you be a coward who has to HIDE from everything? You can’t think of anything but YOURSELF. You always have something to CRY or BITCH about. It’s only your problems. That’s all you ever think about, Zim this, Zim that! And yet you still keep up your struggles in life like an idiot! Just then, did Zim realize what he had to do.

“Alright, everyone! This situation is in CRITICAL CONDITION! We must evacuate NOW! Everyone get your weapons! Reach for the knives! Grab your hacksaws! Acquire the skool’s guns!” clamored the green child.

The entire class facepalmed in shame. “We have nothing to lose here! Come, conjoin with me! There is nothing to fear but fear itself! This skool stalker is an enemy of Germa-”

The door opened up suddenly. A man, unidentifiable due to the lack of illumination of the classroom, brought out an M16, and a bullet was struck through Professor Membrane’s head.

“Come on, guys, let’s show this man what for!” Just as Zim said that, his neck was being strangled by the man, and he was being carried away. “Hey, why aren’t you fighting this beast! Get me out of here! NOW! NOW!

The door shut.

Zim was kicking and screaming at the man. “LET ME GO! I BEG YOU! IT IS EITHER THIS OR YOU SUFFER ZIM’S WRATH! I AM GOING TO--”...

“What wrath?” snapped a voice, belonging to the man.

“ALL OF THE WRATH! ALL OF IT!” howled the Irken adamantly.

“You wouldn’t know wrath if it hit you in the head,” the man scowled.


“Shut up,” growled the voice. Zim sighed, and bit the man, but that did not seem to affect him. He tried to activate his PAK’s spider legs, but the man ripped each leg off.


The boy was hushed with a sleeping pill shoved into his throat, and it’s effect was perfectly successful. The man carrying Zim left the skool’s campus, and treaded far away, so far, that by the time he came to his destination, it was 11:00 P.M. The man was in a dark forest where a bar the size of a mansion was built. When he got into the bar, he pushed up a chair, welded handles onto the chairs, put Zim’s hands and legs through them, and tightened the handles as much as possible.

The pills stopped taking effect as soon as Zim realized where he was. Zim saw Professor Membrane’s shirt on the anonymous entity, but nothing else. “Who-who must you be?” he asked, quivering.

“I’m YOU, silly! And by silly, I mean stupid! And by stupid, I mean extremely mentally deficient!” screeched the voice! A light was shone. The man looked exactly like Zim, and he was grinning wildly like a menace.

“AAAAUGH!” bellowed Zim, with a blatant expression of very intense terror showing on his face. “My name is actually S.Z., to be more precise,” he explained. “PLEASE GET AWAY, PLEASE GET AWAY, PLEASE GET AWAY, PLEASE GET AWAY, PLEASE GET AWAY RIGHT NOW!” cried Zim.

“Oh, now I know why people always keep kidnapping Zimmy-boy here. He acts in the best ways possible! Seriously, you should look at yourself in the mirror! You are motherfuckin’ comedy gold!” taunted S.Z. “I love these pills so much. I love them almost as much I love you and your hysteria. They are my third favorite weapon, next to pendulums and Clorox Bleach. I love them like I’m sick,” uttered S.Z.

“If you hate me so much, why can’t you just kill me already?” dared Zim.

S.Z. chuckled. “You think that I hate you? Stop deluding yourself into ludacris romances. I love you, Zim, which is why I’m turning YOU into ME. We can be together forever!”

Zim was sweating, heating up, and whimpering.

“Oh, my lord. You’re very warm. I suppose I should use you to reheat my pancakes before you’re gone,” sputtered S.Z., pointing to the pancake leftovers on the bar table. “But jokes aside, I should stop stalling and commit the exorcism of your soul.”

S.Z. removed a scalpel from his pocket, and immediately began to strike Zim with it in the head. Blood poured into Zim’s wide open eyeballs,  thus burning them to an enormous degree. “AUAHAUAAAAAAAAAGAGHHHHHAAAH! WHY ME, WHY ME, WHY ME, WHY ME, WHY ME?” screeched Zim in an extremely high pitched voice, tears uncontrollably escaping his eyeballs.

“That’s the exact same question I was asking when I was in your place, ironically.” S.Z. put his scalpel on top of Zim’s cheek, and started moving the scalpel up and down, as if to shear the cheek. He kept at it until the cheek was replaced with a huge hole in Zim’s head, and did the same with his other cheek. The blood went into Zim’s mouth, and he immediately spit it out.

“Oh, what’s this? I thought you LIKED yourself! Why are you spitting it? I thought you valued yourself, but I guess not…” he theorized.

Zim let out a long, slow, miserable, mewl as he cried. S.Z. continued his speech with, “And why are you treating this like you’ve never known what pain was? Do you even know what pain is? You saw this coming, didn’t you? You know, you are going to DIE someday. You are going to die a tragic, unpleasant, agonizing death! In fact, we are ALL going to die horribly! It’s natural for everything in the universe to die a traumatic death! What were you thinking this whole time? Were you living under a rock?” accused the Irken in the white trench coat.

“Um… uh… well…”  stuttered Zim sheepishly.


“Uh… um… uh...” whispered Zim in a faint, hardly detectable voice. He then sighed heavily in a deep tone.

“Alright, fine! Be rude like that! Forget I don’t exist, you dickhead!” stammered S.Z. Then he pulled out a hot glue gun from his pocket, and poured glue around Zim’s neck, bordering it like a tight collar. Then he layered more glue again, and again, and again.


“Aw, too hot for your scalded body? Let me cool you down.” S.Z. brought out a bucket of frigid water, and then poured singular drops of water onto his head at a pace that when the bucket finally was empty, two hours had passed.

“My head… is being ripped open cell by cell…” quivered the trembling, bonded Irken.

“That’s only one part, you’ll feel more of the water torture sooner. But it won’t be AS bad, will it?”

“M-MORE?” squealed Zim.

“I said it wouldn’t be that bad,” S.Z. declared. He refilled the bucket with the bar’s sink, added more ice to it, and then he dumped the water all at once on Zim’s head.


“This way it’s faster!” S.Z. crowed. The water startled Zim so much that he

flinched, and could not respond. His pupils were extremely small, and he was hardly moving, only twitching.

“Oh, look! You can’t seem to take it anymore! That’s a MIGHTY shame, because we still have far more events to get through. If this is all you can stand for, then you’ll probably be forever mentally broken and traumatized by the time we finish half of it! No, wait, you WILL be forever traumatized! You’ll want to end QUICKER and QUICKER by the second! You are going to-” “ISTANBUL WAS CONSTANTINOPLE, NOW IT’S ISTANBUL, NOT CONSTANTINOPLE, BEEN A LONG TIME GONE, CONSTANTINOPLE, NOW IT’S TURKISH DELIGHT ON A MOONLIT NIGHT!” sang GIR, who was legless, and was missing one eyeball.

“What the…” murmured the man in the lab coat.

“Hey, it was getting so boring here, I needed something to break up the tension,” admitted GIR smugly.

“YOU FUCKING NUISANCE!” S.Z. shouted. Then he ripped GIR’S head off of his body, killing him.

“S.Z.!” Zim hollered. S.Z. had actually just laughed. “Are you sad that I just murdered GIR? Bawww, you’re so helpless. Poor Zim, he’s so depressed.” mocked S.Z.

“Y-you k-k-k-killed GIR, YOU KILLED GIR, DARN IT!” shrilled the crying child restrained in the chair.

“Yeah, I was the one who stole his life right before his eyes. Get over it.”

The words “get over it” echoed in Zim’s head. Meanwhile, he was tearing up, but trying to hold the water back at the same time.

“You really seem to be thoroughly disturbed by GIR’s imminent death. Maybe a bedtime story will cheer you up. I’ve just finished this poem of mine, why don’t you tell me what you think?” S.Z. cleared his throat, and then began to speak again.

“Have you ever wanted to change something about yourself but just couldn’t? There’s always a huge flaw, a huge sin in your personality, like a virus in a code. You try your hardest to rid yourself of that one flaw, but you cannot. It is integrated into you. It is the scab that you just can’t pick out. You live on and on with that huge defect, the inadequacy constantly peering into your life at sudden distances, to wreak havoc and cause chaos within. Eventually, you decide to outright destroy your weak spots. You don’t just quickly do them away, you brutally tear them apart in gruesome and grotesque ways, organ by organ, cell by cell, straining and struggling with utmost effort, all of this, just to tell sin to fuck off, and never come back to bite your flesh again.” Whilst speaking, he was cutting Zim’s left arm into many pieces, and force feeding them to him.

“Do you like our popcorn?” inquired S.Z. “Only made with the best of flavors.”

Zim didn’t hear S.Z. Instead, he was thinking about the poem that he had just heard. It sounded very familiar. It WAS very familiar. He remembered writing it down, but in a liquidy substance. He remembered writing a lot of poems back in the past. The most iconic of the poems, also being his earliest, was one detailing his resentful abhorrence for someone, but yet his loyalty and devotion for that person, specifically being an extravaganza to keep that person entertained. What Zim had remembered most recently, was the stench of semen. Or was it urine? That was the one thing that slipped his mind.

Chapter Three: Lies

Reality had finally trumped Zim’s mind. Zim looked around, and saw, he was in no bar. He was in a dark crowded stone cell. The only thing he could see were writings of poems on the wall, that he could of SWORE he saw were engraved in Gaz Membrane’s bedroom somewhere.

They were written in… tongue marks? he wondered. The writings looked like they were crafted in liquid excretion. He had also saw himself tightly secured inside a straight jacket. However, S.Z. wasn’t there. Zim started to sob and wail in horrifically gigantic suffering. Just the mere thought of being in this situation made him feel like a worthless, scummy pile of trash. He could not take over Earth like he had always been planning. He could never see his Tallest again, they were gone. He could hardly even move a muscle because of the jacket he was confined into. Exactly what was the point of living anymore if you couldn’t even move properly? Zim actually felt like dying. He WANTED to die. He actually tried banging his neck against the wall in a very rough manner, in an attempt to shatter and destroy his own PAK.

The guards that were monitoring Zim were laughing. One of them said, “He thinks that his life is horrible, when HE was the one who killed all of those Mexican campesino that July.”

Zim’s pupils shrunk in astonishment. So, he thought, I wasn’t arrested in the first place?

I was instead placed in a mental asylum?

The Scary Monkey isn’t real?

Nobody had brought me back to my base? I’ve been in this asylum for the past five months?

Gaz didn’t sneak into my life and step on me? “I-I..” sputtered Zim, his eyes widely open, and his pupils still minute. He stared at the cadaver of Gaz in his cell. “I might as well be Satan himself! I might as well be the devil! I never understood… WHY DID I THINK OF ANY OF THIS?” he yelped at the top of his lungs. S.Z. appeared in front of him.

“Oh, please, Zim. You remember what Gaz did, don’t you? You remember they way she assaulted your state of well-being, the way she made you contemplate your own suicide, how she bounded you to a shower, went into you and snatched your sperms, the way she fatigued your voice and vocal cords. Do you remember needing to lick up your own seminal fluid just to speak with her?”

Zim knew that this was completely false. He knew for certain that what S.Z. had said did not happen. However, he did know that S.Z. believed every last detail of what he said. He was so specific, he did not stutter or talk fast, he sounded natural, and he was actually a PART of Zim in the first place. Nobody would ever lie to themselves, it just does not make any sense!

Zim felt a little less terribly about himself, but still began to keep crying. He was alone forever, with only his demons by to ruin his life in ways disastrous, but even so, the closest things he could call “friends.”

To make matters worse, visiting hours had started today. Dib immediately raced up to Zim’s cell, knife in hand, and a can of Mace.



The new article in the newspapers of Zim’s city was titled “MADMAN TAKES PSYCHOTIC MEASURES TO END HIS LIFE AS PAINFULLY AS POSSIBLE”. Bitters had actually stayed alive during Zim’s insanity. She started to read through this article, and then she saw Zim on the front cover, shearing his cheek with a scalpel.

“So, that’s where he went,” Bitters interjected. “One less scumbag to teach.” “But… he won’t be in skool for years on end, and I’ll have to deal with him AGAIN the next year, possibly the year after that, if I’m not lucky… SHIT!” Bitters immediately jumped into her Mercedes-Benz, and dashed onto the road hastily, not caring about traffic or speed limits as she went.

Story belongs to XxShaym1nxX

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