Shit, he's waking up!
Ugh, do you have a plan?
Yeah, I have a plan.
...
...
...Is it a good one?
I have a plan.
"Wh-What?" he whispers into the dark. "Wh-Who's there?" Tears prick his eyes. He can't see anything, his whole body hurts, where is he? He can't remember.
Aw, poor kid.
Cut the foreplay-
That's what she said!~
"Who is it? Wh-Where are you!? Where am I!?"
Jesus, cool it, kid! We're voices in your head-
Way to be subtle, idiot.
"Wh-Wh-What's going o-on," the boy sobs. He's so confused. Voices in his head. Is he crazy? Are they trying to trick him? Where is he? Did they kidnap him?
He's too loud. They're going to notice it soon.
Shit. Sorry kid, this is gonna be a little scary, the voice says apologetically, and the boy feels like he's being pulled out of his own body.
"Well, hello there," says a man with cropped dirty blond hair. His eyes were two different colors- his right was a glowing purple, while his left was a normal brown. He wore a pale green denim jacket over a white tank top and had a necklace with a small padlock hanging off of it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, again. I'm afraid that you don't remember us, unfortunately. We aren't completely sure as to what exactly those people did, but it definitely messed up your memory."
"What?" blurts the boy. "I don't get it- we-we were friends?" he asks confusedly.
The *huff* bestest of *huff* friends, pants the other voice from somewhere else.
The man nods, ignoring the clearly physically exhausted voice. "Yes, we are. Do you remember anything at all?" the blond asks.
The boy looked down. "N-No, I don't."
"I see," the man hums. "I doubt you are the same person you were before. You feel the same, but you don't look the same," murmurs the man.
"What do you mean?"
"You're hair and eyes used to be brown, but now they aren't. They're purple. Violet."
"L-Like your eye?" asks the boy.
The blond smiles. "Yes. The same." He blinks. "Ah, I suppose I should introduce myself. I am Calvin, it's nice to meet you if you can call it that."
"U-Um, nice t-to meet you too?" says the boy nervously. "I-I...what's my name."
"Well, you are a new boy, so a new name is in order~" singsongs another man, his voice matching the one from earlier. He was of Asian descent, with long dark bangs, and a cheerful grin, unlike that of Calvin's stoic expression. He wore a ruffled white collared button-up shirt with a beige vest. Around his neck was a skull necklace, and his ears were pierced. "Oh, and the name's Rylan by the way- call me Rye!"
"Rylan, why are you here?" Calvin sighs.
"I got us out, but I passed out in a dumpster!~" Rye says cheerfully, despite the content of his words.
"U-Um, Calvin, why is he bleeding?" asks the boy.
"Because he's an idiot."
"I don't think that's how it works..." he says hesitantly.
"It's an unusual phenomenon."
"You're such a meanie, Cal!" Rye pouts. "Kid, call that grouch Cal. Calvin is a shitty name for shitty people."
"You don't want to call me Calvin. Does that mean you don't think I'm a shitty person?"
"Shut it, Cal," snaps Rye. "Anyways, a name for the kid..."
"Rylan. I think we have more important things to worry about," says Calvin, "You know. Like the fact that you left the body, which is physically a child, bleeding out in a dumpster in Germany."
"Pfft, whatever, Cal." Rye scoffs. "Just turn the Window on, we'll be fine."
"The body is unconscious, Rylan. The Window doesn't work if the body is physically incapable of comprehending what is going on outside the body."
"I-I don't understand," says the boy softly. "What is the Window?"
"The Window is how we on the inside find out what's happening on the outside," explains Calvin. "The three of us are trapped within the same body together, so we have systems to function. Look around."
And the boy did.
It was just a room. There was a closet on the at the back, with a black door, and another closet next to it, with a rainbow door. Next to it was a kitchen-like area, with cupboards, a fridge, a stove, an oven, counters, and a coffee machine. In front of the kitchen area was a small living area, with a white bean bag chair, a plush yellow recliner, and a comfortable-looking violet armchair. There was a coffee table, with a shelf, which held books, DVDs, and puzzles. There was a T.V sitting on the floor, positioned so that it would easily be visible no matter where you sat.
Then, in the remaining space, was a soft, comfortable brown sofa, sitting across from a window with curtains closed. In front of the window was a hole. Inside the hole was a seat.
"Rule one of being inside, kid," says Calvin, "is never, under any circumstances open the black door. Never ever enter it."
"Why?"
"It's the Zilch Locker, Kit," explains Rye quietly, "you go there to die. You enter the closet, you get erased from existence, and that's that. No take-backsies. Get it?"
The boy nods solemnly. "Yeah," the boy affirms, "I get it."
"Next is that rainbow door. We'd...it's not off limits, but we'd prefer if you didn't go through it. It's where we put all the stuff of the people who went into the Locker," says Calvin. "There's also the Window, which is, quite literally, a window. In front of that, in the hole, is the Driver's Seat. Whoever's in that chair control's the body. You never, ever force anyone off the Driver's Seat without permission unless it's an emergency. Behind that is- "
"The Box of Voyeurism!" Rye interjects excitedly.
"We aren't calling it that," Calvin shoots Rye down sternly. "Anyways, you can comfortably see what's going on Outside from there."
"Feel free to use anything you want, Kit!" laughs Rye. "Also, I'm calling you that from now on!"
Rye and Kit (as Rye calls him, Calvin is sticking to 'kid') were working together on a jigsaw puzzle when they got a signal from the body that it was ready to wake up.
"Who's going out?"
"The kid, it's his body," says Cal, "we'll direct him from the Lounge-"
"Box of Voyeurism!"
"Not calling it that."
So, Kit gets into the driver's seat.
And wakes up in a dreary cell with water damage.
Well, isn't this just a nice change of scenery, says Rye from the inside.
It's a prison cell.
I was being sarcastic.
"Ah, so you're awake." There's a quite unpleasant-looking/smelling man standing on the other side of the bars.
This can't go well.
Kit, I think I should take over, suggests Rye, This could get messy, fast.
'Okay,' consents Kit internally.
Hey, Classy, can I kill this guy-?
No.
...
No.
...Not even a little?
No.
...
...Maybe a little. Maybe.
Okay, what should I do?
You know the thing?
Hell, yeah.
Set a small fire.
Small fire.
...
I said a small fire.
...
That is not a small fire.
...
And that man is more than just a little dead.
...
He is very dead, Rylan.
...
Very. Dead.
So, Kit, I'm going to stay in the Driver's Seat, if that's okay with you.
'Yeah, I'm okay with that,' replies Kit easily.
What Rylan did, did it bother you? Calvin inquires.
'No, why would it?' asks Kit, confused.
There was a brief pause. Because he killed someone, says Calvin finally, and some people think that only bad guys kill.
'Well...' Kit trails off. 'I don't think Rye's a bad guy.'
...
There's a moment of silence.
Thanks, Kit.
We are lost.
Thanks, Rylan.
Hey, don't take that tone with me! I think I did pretty good, considering I was running away from criminals in a nine-year-old kid's body! Rye cries defensively.
This is bad.
The noise of people yelling and the thud of footsteps against the roads suggests that Rye didn't throw them off.
This is bad.
You said that already.
It seemed worth repeating.
'Um, I think they're still following us,' points out Kit.
Rye...
I'm dealing with it, okay!
Rye runs for his life, hearing the small group of men tailing him. He takes several shortcuts, climbing onto buildings, and taking sharp detours. Eventually, he finds a car with the keys in the ignition. He starts the car.
Switch, R.
Yep.
From the outside, their body stops moving. Their eyes close, and when they reopen, they seem sharper than before. More aware.
Rye has switched with Calvin, and Calvin begins driving.
Do you even know how to drive this thing?
Normally, I'd lie and say yes but considering the fact that I just nearly drove into a building, I'm going to assume you know the answer.
'We're so screwed,' Kit bemoans.
Ain't that the truth.
"Child-"
WHAT THE FUCK!
Shit.
'H-How did he get in here!?'
"My name is Checkerface, and I'd like to make a deal."
Rye rips control from Cal, and slams his foot on the breaks. He is panting because that scared the shit out of him.
"Well, my name is shitface, and I'd like for people to stop randomly appearing in cars I don't own," Rye blurts.
Dammit, Rylan! What the hell are you doing!?
Cal, let me! We don't need a custody battle in the middle of an ongoing conversation.
Checkerface chuckles. "I've never met many Clouds with a sense of humor," he says. "I'd like to make a deal; I'll save you from those pesky nuisances and give you protection, and you will owe me a favor."
"How long will you protect u-uh, me for? What's the favor?"
"I will protect you until you fulfill your end," Checkerface explains. "And as for the favor? You'll accept the invitation when it comes."
Rye frowns. What invitation?
This guy... Calvin trails off. Take it, Rye.
"...Deal."
A/N: YES, this is sloppy, and NO, I don't care. This is for my own entertainment, it has virtually no plot, and it's literally me channeling my inner crazy.