Be Your Own Hero

Closer and Closer

Celine was now in complete control of Dark's body. She ran her fingers along his cane that he adored oh so much. It sort of angered her. It was Damien's cane that she and Mark had gifted him for becoming mayor. She wanted to snap it in half.

She wanted nothing more than to immediately go to Mark's house and kill him but she had to be more sly and stealthy than that. Barging in may take him by surprise but it will also have repercussions. He has motion cameras now and his two dogs, Henry and Chica could alert him, giving him the advantage.

Celine had to be smarter. She had a lot of time to think about how she'd end Mark but being in her own physical form once more was a little daunting. She had to get used to things first.

Cracking her neck in Dark's body, she groaned a little before walking out of the room.

Wilford hand't been in the best of spirits since the other day. Seeing his friend like that lose control got to him. It's very rare that anything scares Wilford Warfstache but this did. The journalist was currently in the kitchen pretending to look at the daily newspaper upside-down when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. It was well in the afternoon by this time and everyone else was either outside, in the living room or in their own rooms, scattered about the place so it was hard to tell at first who it was coming down.

Then he heard a third footstep and deduced it before they walked in, "Well hello, Darky! Finally coming out of your cave, eh?!"

'Dark' glanced over at him but didn't answer, merely going to the fridge in search of something to eat.

Wilford wasn't perturbed, "Did ya finally talk to Markimoo over the phone or are you still pouting like a child?"

A red glow hummed from him but he didn't answer, still, making a sandwich. Wilford observed carefully. Usually he would be the sort of person people would see as irrational and crazy. Nonsensical and strange. But he did have his sane moments. Something was off.

Before he could speak again, however, Eric walked in. Upon seeing the two in the room, he looked like he was regretting his decisions but bravely stepped in, "H-hi, Wil. H-hello Mr. Dark, sir"

"Eric! How you today, scout?!"

Eric shuffled nervously and appeared to be sweating but answered, "I-I'm fine, Wil. H-h-how are you t-today?"

"Jolly Good!" But Wil's happy demeanor was quickly swiped when he observed Dark again. He was frozen, hunched over the counter as if just listening to everything. As if everything he was hearing was nails scratching on a chalkboard.

"You go on outta here now Eric-boy. Don't want anything to lash out attcha."

Eric, catching on to the hint, started to leave to just go to his room, "O-okay. B-bye."

Once he was gone, Wilford cleared his throat, "Whelp! Imma gonna just go and wreak some havoc, Darkimoo! See ya before dinner!"

"No, Wil" his voice was deep and menacing. Familiar.

"Ah! He speaks! I was beginning to think somethin' was wrong with ya! Not that there isn't, already!" he laughed.

'Dark' glared at him over his shoulder, "You'll only 'wreak havoc' if I have a need for it. Now go do your job."

Wilford hummed but pouted, "Aw! You're no fun!"

But Wilford left the room, only slinking around the corner to spy on the man, 'He seems colder today. I've noticed his spurts here and there but this is different. Ever since the other day when he lost control like that. Never seen him like that before. Yes, yes. Something is definitely wrong. Of course he'd always behave harsh but this is different. Call me crazy'