Sweet Vendetta //Danger Days//

18. Fucking Psycho

"Ah, hello children." Dr. D smiled as Missile and Gear approached the front door of the studio. The old radio host was sitting in the shade of his own junk pile, his tinted sunglasses pilled over his eyes as he tilted his face to the sky.

"Hey D, is Cola here? I need some more target practice." Missile asked, moving her balance from her heels to the tip of her toes.

"Afraid not, but Psycho's inside. I'm sure he can help ya." Dr. D motioned towards the shack.

"Alright, thanks." She responded, spinning to face the door.

"How's your sister doing?" Dr D. spoke to Gear next.

"Wonderfully." He grinned.

"Good to hear it." The old man yawned, returning to his relaxation. Gear quickly followed his friend inside, only to be met by an eerie darkness.

"Hello?" Missile called, her eyes darting around the presumably empty room.

"In here." Psycho's voice responded from down the hall. Gear and Dylan crept towards the DJ's office, confused as to why there were no lights.

"You okay there buddy?" Gear asked, stepping into the unorganized office.

"Yes, better than ever." Psycho smiled broadly, although his posture said something completely different. He was hunched over on his wooden desk, softly stroking his brittle fingers against his white and yellow ray gun.

Today was the day he'd shoot Dr. Death. Finally, after over a month, Ms. Management would stop talking to him. There would be no more Scarecrows and Dracs in his office, and Chimp would be safe.

A strange feeling of calmness washed over him at the thought of finally being left at peace.

"You sure? You look sorta... out of it." Missile observed, crossing her arms.

"Yes. I'm fine. Now go on home, children." Psycho told them kindly.

It was far too nice.

"You sound like that reporter from Bat City news." Gear scoffed. Psycho let out a high pitched laugh.

"You're funny. Now go home." This time, his voice was low and stern.

"Actually, we came here for some more shooting practice, but Cola isn't here." Missile replied.

"I'll see if I can help you later. I have more important things to do right now." Psycho glanced back down at the gun. These kids weren't going to be leaving any time soon.

' Just shoot them. They're too young to be living out in the Zones. If you care about them, put them out of their misery. Then you go and kill D.'

"Where's Show Pony? Maybe he can help us." Gear asked.

Psycho abruptly grabbed the ray gun, aiming it at the two kids. Missile stepped back in surprise.

"What the hell, Psycho!" Gear widened his eyes, reaching for the doorknob.

"I'm going to fix you." Psycho hissed.

"D! He's gone insane!" Missile called, hurrying out of the room. Gear remained in the office, carefully watching the unstable man.

"What's wrong, sunshine?" Dr. D asked, his wheelchair creaking against the wooden floor as he moved inside. At the sound of the Veteran's voice, Psycho hurdled over the desk, rushing to the living room.

"DR. D! LOOK OUT!" Gear hollered, sprinting after the man with the gun. He reached the living room to find Missile cowering in the corner, and Psycho standing over Dr. Death, a gun pointed at his head. The old radio host didn't even flinch, just stared at his younger companion.