The White Shadow 1: The Dancer

Chapter 14

Darryll strode underneath a blanket of grey clouds and misty rain that filled his hair and stuck his shirt to his gaunt figure. But despite the cold and the wet, Darryll continued onward, past the shops and under the traffic light. There were no cars at this hour, and the only noise in the enveloping darkness was the light pattering of the rain and Darryll's rhythmic footsteps. His thick, unwieldy fringe stuck to his face, but had been previously brushed out of his eyes and stayed put due to the rain. Carried in one bruised, bleeding arm was a soaked plastic bag that held a large box within and swung back and forth with each step. The lampposts overhead flickered within the cloud of rain, and Darryll grimaced through the pain in his arms.

The door swung open and Darryll stumbled in, the door closing behind him. He walked over to the front desk, walking past shelves of many electrical components. Motherboards, Arduinos, hydraulics, wires, motors, batteries, and many other devices lined the well lit walls. Darryll came to the desk and found the bell. He pressed it and it rang loudly throughout the small room. From some backrooms some thuds were heard, followed by some cursing, before a staff only door opened and a boy of the same age as Darryll came out. He had short golden hair and large, bright blue eyes and he was rather short. As soon as he saw his visitor, drenched from the rain, eyes dark and beady, shirt drenched from his bleeding left arm and his right arm twisted in an inhuman fashion, the golden boy gasped, the colour draining from his youthful cheeks. "Oh my god Darryll!" He cried, "What the hell happened to you?"
Darryll groaned, "I need several things. I've got a list..." And he dug his left arm into his pocket, wincing in pain before pulling out a small and crumpled napkin covered in scribbles. Placing it on the table, Darryll stared at the other boy who looked back with worried eyes, "But you need he-"
"I need," Darryll grumbled impatiently, "...you to get me my fucking parts Josh. So get them."
And then Darryll collapsed again.
Josh sighed, "What is god going to do with you?"

Darryll awoke again, and would've punched something out of a white hot frustration if not for the fact that he was just way too tired to do anything. He looked around and found that he was lying upon a couch in the middle of Joshes storeroom. It was similar to the store, except that it was much less organised, having tools and parts of varying sizes and designs all in boxes together with little rhyme or reason. The room in question was also much dustier, and much more brown, being all wooden and not at all painted. Darryll pulled himself into an upright position, and he squinted in pain as all the blood rushed to his head. Once his headache had subsided, he attempted to push himself to his feet, but found that his legs could barely sustain his weight. He slumped back down in defeat, and saw his left arm was finally scabbing. Josh had probably removed the glass. He had better have gotten the parts before doing that. Darryll also saw that his right arm was covered in thick bandages. He tried to moved the arm, and found that it no longer hurt as bad. Probably some kind of painkiller or anesthetic.
"On your ass again, Darryll?"
Darryll looked up and saw his brother, once again, smirking from above, as he cried, "Deja vu!"
"Oh my god Dennis, shut up." Darryll sighed, "At least this time I won."
"We won," Dennis corrected, brushing his hair back in his fingers, "And more importantly, we have the upper hand. But we won't have it forever. We need to get this next plan done fast."
"You're in my head right?" Darryll asked spitefully.
"Yeah, what of it?" Dennis replied.
"If you wanna be a bitch about my inability to stand, maybe you can pilot my body and see how it fucking feels."
Dennis suddenly burst into laugher at this idea, crying, "You would really let me in? You wouldn't be able to force me out if you you did."
Darryll's face suddenly froze, "Oh, then forget it."
And then he saw Josh, holding a large cardboard box, standing beside some containers of junk, watching the whole conversation unfold. Darryll stared back, "Tell me thats the stuff I wanted."
"Who were you talking to?"
"Your mother."
"My mother's dead, Darryll."
"Just like my brother."
Josh's face started at this, and he placed the box upon the floor beside the couch and sat beside Darryll. "Do you think it's schizophrenia?"
"Nah," Darryll replied, "it's too... I don't have the right word... too real? for that."
"Schizophrenia induced hallucinations will feel very real to the sufferers." Josh replied rather patronisingly.
Darryll rolled his eyes, "Yeah, I know, I took the same A-level as you. It just feels too... Specific? Concentrated? Like, it's only our old classmates and my brothers."
"Hm." Josh placed his head into his hand in deep thought. Darryll started trying to push himself back out of the couch again.
Josh pondered, "Maybe it's some kind of PTSD induced acute hallucination... hey, heyheyheyhey calm down!" Josh was on his feet, pushing a grumbling and resistive Darryl back into his seat by the shoulders rather forcefully. Darryll groaned, "I'm fine, Josh. The longer I sit here the more danger I'll be in."
Josh did not relent. "You'll be in more danger if you deal with whatever problem you have without arms, ok? Please, you can take at least a couple hours, right?"
"No."
"I'll drug you if it means keeping you safe."
Darryll's face suddenly lit up, "You have drugs? What other chemicals do you have?"
Now Josh was incredibly confused, "... Im sorry what?"