Psycho Gem

Chapter 3: Doommeister

We teleported into a room as big as a hockey rink. It was like a science laboratory, but bigger and with more advanced technology. Tracks collapsed to the ground again from the feeling of the teleportation process. His groans alerted a bunch of flying drones to come and point laser guns at the two of us.

Before anything else could happen I yelled out. "Hey Darryl! It's me! We need to talk!"

I saw Darryl walk over from behind a shelf full of gadgets. "I told you to call me by my code name, you asshole!" he said with venom in his voice. His robotic eye glowing red as he spoke.

"I don't give a shit about your name." I retorted.

"But what is your code name?" Tracks asked as he got back on his feet.

"Doommeister." Darryl said, trying to sound cool.

"That's... the best you could come up with?" Tracks laughed to himself.

"It's his gamertag." I whispered back to Tracks who immediately started giggling to himself.

"Aw, c'mon. Doesn't it sound at least a little bit cool?" Darryl asked with a disappointed look on his face.

"We're not here to make fun of your name. We came because *sigh* Something's wrong with Tracks here, but my scanners proved inconclusive. Your tech is better than mine so-" I began to explain before being cut off.

"Hold on, you need my help? MY help? Of all the people you could've gone for, you chose me. HAH! But there is just one tiny, but very important thing. Why the fuck would I help you?" he sneered at me.

"Because I'm the only one who can get you what you want." I said, walking closer to him.

"Will you, though?"

"If you help me."

Darryl thought for a second, then his drones flew back to where they came from.

"Follow me, you two." he said as he led us to his main lab.

I was hit by wave after wave of nostalgia from the gadgets that I saw as I was following him. I saw a ray gun he tried to kill me with, a piece of a scanner he used to try to read my mind, parts of some robots he sent to steal my watch, and many not-so-fond memories. As we got to the main lab he began to type away on his giant supercomputer.

Tracks poked my shoulder and whispered to me. "So what's up with this guy? And why's he so pissed off with you?" he asked.

"His name is Darryl Maestro. He's one of the smartest people I know. The only other people I know who are smarter are omniscient gods. but even with all that he still hasn't figured out the secret to interdimensional travel. That's why he's always tried to steal those secrets from me. He's been unsuccessful so far, but he's one relentless bastard." I began explaining.

"Why haven't you let him figure it out? Being able to hop dimensions would be pretty wicked." he asks, confused.

"That's what I thought at first, but this life does stuff to you. He has a brilliant mind that could be put to better uses."

Darryl spun around in his chair to face us. "Alright, Truck. I'll need you to lay down on this stretcher." he pointed to a metal stretcher.

"My name's Tracks, tosser." he snapped back as he lay down on the stretcher.

"By the way, what the hell happened to your hand?" Tracks asked.

"Oh, that?" he said as he lifted up his robotic left hand. "Lab accident. Even handsome-ass geniuses like myself make mistakes. But now look at me! I'm like a super cool cyborg!" he said, pointing at his robotic left eye with his mechanical hand.