A Different Time

Eight

Dan
It's been days. I don't know where I am.

These assholes keep coming in and demanding information. They keep asking who I am, and when I say my name, they all chuckle amongst themselves and start beating me again. I don't understand what they fucking want from me besides money.
The trapdoor above my head opens, and the bucket of water comes splashing down on me, soaking my hair again and rinsing the blood from my lips and cheeks.
I can't see out of my left eye. It's swollen shut.
"Fuck youuuu!" I sing up into the hole, and it slams shut, drowning me in darkness once again.
I sigh. They're coming again. I give the first one about 30 seconds. The second one,  32 seconds later. And the third—about a minute after the rest. He seems to be the leader of the group. There's three men, two voices. I can't tell who's voice is who's. If it wasn't so fucking dark in here, I might be able to describe them to the police if I escaaaaa—wait. Oh that's right! The cops are in on it. Well boy oh boy am I screwed.

Just as anticipated, the first one comes in—he's the shortest out of the three—slamming the door open dramatically and creeping into the darkness. I look around. He's never done this before. And I can't see shit.
I count my breaths, waiting for the second to come in. The door creeps open and a much taller figure walks in, not speaking a word.
I stare at the doorway, waiting for the third.

He comes in, his shoulders and arms so much more confident than they should be. He's the cocky one, though he says nothing. With a simple flick of his fingers, the other two men gain on me.

I feel a hand smush across my face, squishing my lips together.
"Who are you?"
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to think of something. I am NOT Dan Smith...
I open my eyes, just as the door comes flying open, spilling light into the room, illuminating parts of the tallest mans face.
I squint my eyes, trying to identify any specific things, before the lights go back out, as a man and a woman walk into the room.
I hear a foot tapping beside me. Three taps, and then one more on its own.
I know that tap...
I narrow my eyes, adjusting them to the darkness, looking around, listening for something else.
I hear someone clear their throat. Its deep, almost annoyed.

"I said—" two pounding footsteps come closer. The voice is more familiar now that I'm focused on it.
"Who are you?"

I need to get them angry.
"Fuck you!" I said.
A fist crashes down on my face, and I laugh, spitting blood into the floor.
"What the fuck is so funny?"
I look up into the darkness and I laugh.
"Kiss my little white ass..."
Another blow—except this one was different. I felt the cold burn of metal on my cheek as the fist collided with my face. Then the sound of rattling, as if the man shook his hand after hitting me.

Realization hits me.
I look to my left.

"Kyle?" I whisper.
A fist collides with my face again.

"Sorry, Dan." Another voice says. Chris.
"Oh! By the way, your mum and dad are here, too!" He says, and a light flickers on, revealing a massive empty room, my mum and dad standing opposite me, nearly ten feet away.

"Mom? Dad...?" I stare, my mouth dropped open in disbelief.
"What are you doing here? Are you okay?"
I turn my head to Chris and I growl at him.
"You're supposed to be my fucking friend, Woody! If you hurt them, I swear to fuck—" I'm cut off by the sound of someone groaning. I spin my head in the direction of the sound and I squint into the darkness, watching in horror as Will, dressed in sweatpants and a black tank, stalks up towards the group with a snake-like look on his face.
"Will? You too? What's going—" Wills fist whips back and slams down on my face, and I feel my cheekbone crack. I spit the blood out onto the floor. There's a puddle down there—waiting for more.
"You didn't think we were really friends, did you?" Will smirks.
I feel a pain in my chest. The only true friends I've ever had—turning against me. But why? What did I do?
"Did you?!" Will shouts, obviously losing his shit.
I flinch.
"Y-Yeah... I did..." I admit. Of course I did. Why wouldn't I have?
My parents come walking up. They're not bound. There's not a single scratch on them.
"What's going on? What the fuck do you want from me?!" I shout, flexing my arms and thrashing myself forward—nearly flipping the chair.
My dad gives a sympathetic smile. So does my mum. She even looks to have tears sliding down her cheeks.

"Dan," my mum starts. She looks at my father and puts her hand on his arm.
"You're—... Not our son."

I sit back.
"What? I'm— I'm adopted?" I asked. I always kind of suspected it, but I never thought they'd go to such extremes just to break it to me.
My dad shakes his head.
"No. You're not adopted. We—..."
He puts his hand on his forehead and he lets out a long sigh.
"They stole you." Kyle butts in, stepping into the light and crossing his arms. Will steps in as well, placing a hand on Kyles shoulder. Kyle nods and takes a step back, glaring at me as Will gets down on one knee in front of me.
"You're not who you think you are, Dan." He says, sounding sympathetic, but behind his voice is an ocean of lies and deceit.
"Then who the fuck am I?" I grit my teeth, making sure not to spit in his face.

"The Heir, of course." He says simply.
"Ever notice missing memories? Waking up in places you shouldn't be?"
I nod my head suspiciously.
"When we all found you, we knew that eventually, we'd have to get you to make a seemingly harmless title, and make you think you'd come up with it on your own..." he chuckles quietly, tracing a finger across my knee.
My eyes widen in horror. This can't be...

"Welcome to WWCOMMS, your majesty."

AUTHORS NOTE:
Okay I know the whole "majesty" thing sounds super awkward, and it is. It totally is. But I felt like I had to put a twist in this because there's all this action focused around Dan and Ryder and nobody knows what it is yet. So—There It is! Dan's the missing Prince of England!
And WWCOMMS is taking over.