Reverse Dipcifica Oneshots

act iii (3/5)

Warning: this instalment is very intense. There will be flashing images used throughout this chapter. Please be warned.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1Zgvdsrihw5XR9q0RLN943

ACT III

~.~ꪊꪀᛕꪀꪮ᭙ꪀ ꫀꪜꫀꪀꪻ~.~

Trapped. Was he even awake? He blinked once and then twice. He was definitely awake, but in complete darkness?

Beneath his feet was solid, metal, but also relatively flimsy. It quaked when he moved backward, and he found himself against a more or less solid wall.

Panic nearly swelled in his chest, but it was quickly diminished. If this was how he was supposed to die, then his kidnappers were clearly incompetent.

He knocked on the wall beside him, it sounded terribly hollow. Slowly, he reached out forward and pushed even more slowly at the front end of the metal box.

A door opened and he had to blink a few times to get properly adjusted to the light. He stayed quiet, ten seconds of observation might save his life after all.

The room appeared to be set up like a classroom, with desks arranged systematically but weeds were scattered around. In the centre of the room there was a boy with soft, pastel blue hair, back facing him. Soft sniffles could be heard. He determined that because the boy was the only one in the room, paired with the fact that his entire body was practically shaking like an earthquake, that the noise was coming from him.

He wasn't about to rule out the fact that the boy was the enemy, but it would be best to gain any information he could get. He stepped out of the locker and cleared his throat.

The boy shrieked, yes he actually shrieked, and nearly toppled over. Turning so violently to face him, the boy's teary-eyed expression tried to stay firm. "W-who are you?" His voice shook just as much as his body.

He regarded the boy a little more. "I could ask you the same thing." His voice went a little hoarse at the sudden use.

"I-I woke up in a locker," the boy pointed to the only other locker that was open, "I-I!"

"Calm down." He took a step toward the boy, eyes firm. "Tell me your name."

"I'm W-William." The boy —William?— stammered, fingers fiddling with the hem of his pastel blue sweater. "Y-you can call me Will."

"Will." He tested the name on his tongue, finger to his chin. "How did you come to be here?"

Will glanced around the room, anxious. "I d-dunno. All I can remember is. . .is waking up."

That wouldn't do. He was hoping to gain a little more information out of Will, but beggars couldn't be choosers and this situation showed that he had to be a beggar. Will also seemed to be too frantic to answer any questions logically and level-headed.

"Well, who are you?" Will asked, his voice gaining a little more of a confrontational tone, but there was something laid underneath that he couldn't quite place.

Now that was a rather curious question. It was definitely the right one to ask in such a situation as this, but that wasn't why it was curious to him. He didn't know.