I got the idea from this from a Tumblr post. Yep, I'm not kidding. To make matters worse I have not one but two stories in progress, one that I haven't updated in months. But ya know what, I felt like I just needed to get this out of my system. So enjoy.
There's a fine line between bad and evil. A bad person wasn't really a threat, you saw it all the time, perhaps on a cartoon for a child. The bad guy was stupid, probably just causing mischief for fun. The hero would take him down and they would be back at it again the next week. A good guy and a bad guy, playing a game of cat and mouse.
But an evil villain was different. They wanted something, revenge or power or maybe both. They were the type of witches and monsters that filled the children's hearts with fear. The ones that the heroes couldn't always takedown.
Dally was bad. He knew it, he had heard it all his life. When he was a kid, from his mother when he broke something important to her. Or a teacher when he would tug the hair of a little girl on the playground. "Dallas, you've been bad." They would tell him.
Most little boys grow out of their antics. Mature and learn morals. Not him. Even as he got older he still got into trouble. Fighting and stealing, doing anything he possibly could to disturb the peace.
He could handle being bad, but he couldn't bear to become evil.
"You know what to do." A voice that he didn't know said to them. They both nodded eagerly, Dallas could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins. They didn't know the man leading him, but some members of the gang did. He was a cool old guy anyway.
It was a simple job, Dallas and Kenneth would distract the security guard while the older members of the gang would sneak in and steal whatever they wanted. It wouldn't be hard, the guard would trust them, they were only kids after all. Dallas was only ten, and Kenneth twelve.
They were at the beginning place now, in the alleyway. They were close enough that they could see the guard, but the way that the buildings were set up he wouldn't be able to see them. Dallas stared at him, what was he guarding? What was his gang even trying to steal? He questioned to himself. Kenneth gave a crooked grin, and Dallas tried his best to return it, but it was brief.
"Hey!" He whispered to the unnamed man that was leaving. He turned around, looking ready to put Dallas six feet under.
"What is wrong with you? Did I not just tell you not to talk?" He demanded, and the boy curled up like a kicked puppy.
"Yeah, I just…" He started, he knew he would sound stupid, but he still had to ask. "Should we be doin' this?" He asked slowly. "What if we get caught?" He said, jamming his head. The older man laughed as if he had just said sometimes pleasantly hilarious. His roughed hand reached up and ruffled his messy, light-colored hair.
"Look at it this way." He told him. "Life's a game right?" He said. And Dallas did what he had always been coached to do. Nod and agree.
"Yeah, just a game. He mumbled and looked down. He really felt stupid now.
"And there ain't no consequences to this game, so if you can't be punished, then why should you be good?" He asked, bending down to look him in the eye. He scowled, leaning back. "You shouldn't be." He responded. He smiled a pointy-toothed grin that made his skin crawl.
"Okay." He said slowly, behind them Kenneth gave an excited giggle. "Okay." He said again because he didn't know what else to say. He was still mumbling okays after the man had left.
Kenneth had already begun walking towards to the guard, and he had to jog a couple strides to catch up with him. The older boy was whistling a happy little tune. Dallas didn't know much about him, but he knew he loved his gang and he loved the little jobs that he got assigned.
"Excuse me?" The older boy asked the guard once they entered the guard's line of sight. "We're not from here and we're horribly lost," Kenneth said, making his eyes big and wide. He had black eyes, the biggest Dallas had ever seen, he wasn't hard to make himself look innocent. "Right, Dal?" He said to him. He cleared his throat.
"Yes, sir. We've never been to New York before, don't know our way around." He lied smoothly, making sure to speak quietly and quickly so the guard wouldn't be able to hear his Brooklyn accent. The truth was he knew New York better than the back of his hand, but the guard would never know.
"Hm. I see." The guard said, scratching his face thoughtfully. "How about I get y'all a map, would that help?" He asked. Kenneth nodded, grinning eagerly.
"Yes, sir." He said politely. The guard smiled back, turning his back on them. Kenneth winked one of his big black eyes at him. He winked back, not being able to help with his other eye closed a bit as he did.
The guard suddenly whipped around, glaring at them. "I've seen you before, on a poster or something." He mumbled, more to himself than to either of them.
Dallas froze, the gears in his head beginning to turn. He had seen them, he knew it. All around New York City there were wanted signs for them. They were criminals, they were in a gang, and this guy worked for the law, of course, he would recognize them. Stupid, stupid! The boy scolded himself. The guard's eyes were locked on them, and Dallas' heart began to pound.
There was nowhere to run, they were going to get caught. He looked around skittishly, his breathing became heavier, he swore within those few moments he went insane. He patted his pockets mindlessly. His hand brushed against something and he freezes. He slowly pulls it out, his switchblade.
He's never used it before, hasn't even threatened to use it. And he wouldn't dare to use it now, would he?
He glances at Kenneth, he's scowling with his teeth bared. If the guard's suspicions weren't confirmed before they sure as hell were now. He looks from Kenneth to the guard and back to his blade. The guard ain't even looking at him, he's so focused on Kenneth.
He flicks to open, it's razor sharp enough to at least scare him. Yeah, that's what he'll do, he would scare him.
It would have worked if only fate had been kind to him that day.
"Alright, I'm gonna go get something. You boys stay here or I'm gonna have to call the cops." The guard warned. Upon hearing those words Dallas reacted.
To be perfectly honest it wasn't something he thought of doing it was simply something that just happened.
"Dallas, no!" Kenneth cried, and before he knew it he had his switchblade handle in his hand and his blade oi the guy's side. The guard fell to the ground, but not before pressing the button on his belt that caused alarms to blare and lights to flash. The boy cowered for a minute, shrinking back as if he could go invisible if he tried hard enough.
"They're gonna call the cops! Why would you do that? You son of a bitch! Kenneth screamed. He took him by the shoulder, turning him roughly to look at him. "This is your fault. You hear me? He demanded, giving Dallas a good hard shake. "This is your fault.
Guards, about twenty to thirty of them came charging out. From beside him, Kenneth snarled and took out his pocket knife. He shoved Dallas, hard, in the opposite direction. "Run!" He growled loudly, and Dallas hesitated for a moment before sprinting off.
He could hear the guards yelling at Kenneth to drop the knife. Kenneth yelled back obscenities, and among the chaos, Dallas could hear another sound, the loading of a gun. He turned his head to look at Kenneth, he really wished that he didn't.
Two shots were fired, one caught the boy in the lower back, the other straight through his rib cage. Dallas found himself wanting to scream, but couldn't bring himself to. They both stopped running, and the younger boy looked at his companion in fear.
"Kenneth?" He whispered though he knew he wouldn't get a response. Those usual bright and intelligent black eyes stared back at him, dull and dark. The older boy collapsed to his knees, before falling into his side. Falls dank down next to him in an instant.
He didn't bother to try and stop the bleeding, he knew there was no use. Instead, he took Kenneth's hand in his, holding it in between his own.
"Please." He whispered, feeling hopeless. His eyes locked on the other boy's even though he knew that it wouldn't do much.
He was still holding his hands when the cops showed up. They had to pry Dallas off the lifeless body, and the younger boy barely seemed alive himself as the patted him down. They wouldn't find anything though, his only weapon, the black handled switchblade he usually carried around, was still on the side of the dead guard.
"Dallas Winston, you under arrest for the murder of…" He stopped listening. He didn't want to know the name of the man he had killed.
It wasn't his first time being hauled into the station, but it was the first time he had ever been arrested. His dad was there, and we was drunk by the looks of it.
"Aren't you sorry." His father asked, crossing his arms over his chest, his fingers digging into his skin was the only thing that gave away his anxiety. Dallas scoffed, doing his best to avoid his piercing eyes.
"This is your fault!" Kenneth's voice shouted once again in his mind.
"I'm sorry that we got caught." He replied cleverly, scowling back. And it was true, if they would have gotten away with it they would be right back out there the next morning, causing more trouble. If they hadn't gotten caught Dallas would be back with the gang, sharing a soda with Kenneth, laughing with him about something.
"Don't you get it Dallas!?" He father suddenly screamed, lurching forward. "You're the villain, you committed a crime, you're getting arrested!" He yelled, cupping his son's face so Dally had no choice but to look into his eyes. But Dallas had stopped listening after he realized what he had become.
"Look at me, Dallas Winston! Look at me when I'm talking to you." He slurs. He's still yelling at the cops drag him away.
The villain, he wasn't only bad but evil. He was a murderer, he was the person he was scared of. And now he was that person. If only they had gotten away with it, he wouldn't be like this…
But they had gotten caught, and nothing could change that, nothing at all.
He woke up suddenly, sweat on his face, from the nightmare or the nearby fire that was lit. He was still panicking, he could feel his heart pounding, and he couldn't calm his breathing. There were tears in his eyes, but he immediately blink them away, he coaxed his face into an uncaring look.
His arm was still around his friend's shoulder, the younger boy was curled up his knees pulled up to his chest. Dallas rubbed his eyes, slowing his breathing. God, why did those memories come back?
"Hmm?" Johnny made a small, tired sound. Dally gently ran a hand through his hair.
"Shh. Go back to sleep, Johnnycake." He whispered. "The younger boy mumbled something incoherently, and Dallas chuckled a bit despite himself. He looked up, his big black eyes slowly slid open, locking on Dally's blue ones. A lump formed in his throat when he saw his eyes, but he swallowed it down.
His eyes closed slowly once again, and Dallas ruffled his hair once again, before closing his eyes, hoping that the rest of the nice would be peaceful.
…hi.
That's probably the darkest, most cruel thing that I've ever written. Yes, I just implied that Dally is so fond of Johnny because he had the same eye color as his dead gang member.
…but I'm oddly satisfied with this.
Please review.