Here we go once again, a further continuation. There might be a cliffy… So be advised. Own nothing I'll get used to it…Don't want anything aside from reviews.
Sean Fogle: Glad you're enjoying it so far, and no, it wasn't taken in that way at all, if it was, I just would have ignored it. I do hope any future plot points you've come up with won't be spoiled with this…;P
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"She was like him…"
"She?" Mike prodded.
"What about his dad?" Sully clarified.
"I don't know about him, and I don't think I ever will. Just listen; I'll answer whatever question I can if you have any at the end."
She paused, completely stilling her movements, aside from the slight waving of her hair that continued to drift no matter what. Collecting her thoughts, and running through what happened twice she began to speak. "As I told you I was bringing groceries in. I found him on the doorstep as I was about to come in. I set my things down and picked him up quickly, I wanted to make sure he was alright… Anyway, first thing you're taught is to look around, see if you can find the parents, try to talk to them. See if you can, at the very LEAST, persuade them to look into filling out the proper paperwork.
"I found her. She was standing at the end of the driveway, I could tell immediately because she had the same eyes. She winced and almost ran away but before she could I shouted to her. She hesitated, and that was enough for me to catch up to her."
(Flashback, and not because someone's asleep! Aren't you proud of me?)
"WAIT! Please!" a much younger Elizabeth called out, holding a rather dazed looking black reptile close to her chest.
"What?" The reptile snapped in an Irish accented voice, flipping an overly long frond of a complete set of six out of her eyes. Her body language screamed both irritation and insecurity. Three fingered fists constantly grasped and released sporadically, while her whip like tale lashed from side to side, eyes that were similar in shade to Randall's flicking from Elizabeth's face to the child.
"Is he yours?" Blunt, maybe a little accusatory, but it was the only thing she could think of.
"What if he was?"
"You'd need to fill out some things…name, birth date…"
"He doesn't have a name." The lizard interrupted harshly her voice twisting.
Elizabeth blinked. Looking down at the little reptile that was slowly beginning to sniffle quietly she tightened her hold protectively. "Do you want to name him?"
"No! That thing was a mistake, and that's all he'll ever be!" Her voice was violent, filled with barely suppressed rage. Elizabeth drifted backwards her eyes wide; as her feet didn't touch the floor 'stepped' back isn't as appropriate. "He was a mistake…I never meant to have him…" She said softly, the fight leaking from her body in a matter of seconds.
Elizabeth paused and drifted forward again. Biting her lip she shifted the softly quivering black lizard, that as of yet, didn't have a name. Then gathering all her courage she reached over to the petit female reptile monster and put a hand on her shoulder.
BIG mistake. The reptile brought one fist up and punched her in the nose harshly. She reeled back clutching at her nose with one hand, while the other tightened its grip on the reptilian child before she could drop it. This of course led to him to start crying softly as she tried to comfort him, while still keeping an eye on the deranged reptile in front of her.
"DON'T TOUCH ME! DON'T EVER TOUCH ME! NO ONE CAN EVER TOUCH ME! NEVER AGAIN!" She was in a rage. Elizabeth nodded quickly and put her free hand up in a placating manner.
"I won't touch you. Will you please fill out the forms though, please?"
"I can't. I have to put this behind me, I have to go! I have to get away with from that THING!" With that she vanished. Sounds of soft sobbing could be heard moving farther away as she left, leaving Elizabeth standing alone holding a sobbing baby reptile in her arms. She looked around silently and then took a breath, and took to calming the baby down.
"So what are we going to call you then?" She asked softly looking at the tiny reptile as she slowly managed to calm him down. "Well…I always did like Toby…but nah, maybe not. You're obviously Irish, so maybe something Irish will do… How about…Riley? No…I don't like that one, but I do like the 'R'… Where's a baby name book when you need one?" She glanced around briefly as though hoping for one to fall out of the clouds, when none was forthcoming she sighed and then looked at him again.
"Alright, something simple, Randall…yeah, that'll do it. I almost forgot you'll need a last name too…I could give you a shorter version of mine…Boggs? Hmm…why not, I like that, do you?" She played with one of the oversized fronds sprouting from the top of his head that had a very bright red tip on it. The baby made a face at that, and she laughed. "Well that's too bad because that's your name now!" She smiled in satisfaction and left floating back to the orphanage, and whatever reprimand came her way.
……………………………………(Regular time)……..…………………………………
"She didn't even name him; it's not even his real last name?" Sully asked quietly.
"No. I forgot to ask about his birth date as well. He hasn't had a true birthday party in all his existence at the orphanage. They only just gave him one when it got too confusing, January 1st. They don't even know his age, although we have consented to the fact that he has to be around 29, younger possibly, maybe even older.
"He wasn't able to talk until he was around six, but when he reached that age he was talking in complete sentences and scaring the heck out of his teachers because of the methodical precision he had." She grinned at that and said wistfully, "I was so proud of him. After I found and named him, I became rather attached. Which only proved I couldn't stay working at the orphanage, if that became the norm; we wouldn't have been able to give them to parents who wanted them because I wanted them.
"He passed grades with flying colors and graduated high school around four years younger than was normal. Naturally he graduated college easily after that. But I am getting ahead of myself. This is Randall's public file. You can sift through it as often as you like. The private file, which is under lock and key, is none of your business, this should answer any questions you have."
"Except for one I'm guessing…"
"Oh?"
"How come he has the Brooklyn Irish accent if he didn't even grow up with it?"
Elizabeth laughed. "He learned it, I told him that I always loved that accent, told him he was Irish, and he actually went out of his way to copy it. Once he started he liked it so much that it soon became the way he talked normally."
"Interesting…" Mike said blinking.
"Very much so. I have to go now, I'm sorry; do keep an open mind reading it though. Certain things will be a little shocking I'm sure…" Before they could ask her to elaborate she left.
They looked at each other and then at the file in Sully's hand. "Well…here it goes." They flipped it open and began flicking through the pages looking for something that would catch their eye. Soon they found something that interested them. It was in childish lettering, rather jagged and lacking any of the finesse that was in his handwriting now. However what it said was anything but childish…
Hello… This is rather odd…usually he's the one writing. What do ya call it…Hypnos writing? Whatever, so you want to know about me, well what do you see? Twisted ruthless, vindictive (that's a new word by the way, means maliciousness I think that is how you spell it… maybe maliciosness, whatever, meaning's still the same, ill will, the desire to hurt) and sly. But I never used to be, they judged me they MADE me, and now I haunt their dreams…Poetic justice no? *Snicker, just kidding, that's him. We wrote it in one of those, introduce yourself things. He wanted to do it for fun, freak everyone out. I don't get it really… Well, yes I do… But that doesn't mean I agree with it. You do know the whole Batman comics? What's he called…Two Face? Something like that? I'm Harvey Dent, and He's the scary, evil, kill you with a pair of rusty scissors one. Or is that the Joker…whatever. Point is the guides evil and I'm friendly…But he never was so evil before... I think he actually is using what I wrote up there as a philosophe on life, is that how you spell that? Probably not. Don't let him find these… It won't help any, it might make it worse, I can handle it, and you don't have to worry.
There was a pause as they read it over again their eyes widening as they realized what they were reading.
"He was a rather sick kid…" Mike said slowly. Sully gave a brief snort of agreement. "How old do you think he was?"
Probably around…10. Just looking at his handwriting."
"And he knew a word like vindictive??"
Sully was staring at the words in slight amusement. "Seems so."
"Dang, no wonder he skipped grades. Vindictive… I will never forget that…" Mike grinned then read it again. "He was a REALLY sick kid. Is there any more like this? Course…not that I blame him…" He said the last bit in a monotone biting his lip and returning his attention to the letter.
They pulled out a few reading each and every one, the more they read the more worried they got. Each one of them had a slow darkening of personality and humor. The last one went so far as to insult himself, tearing himself down into shreds and leaving no doubt in their minds as to what he felt about himself. However, the secondary always tried to make light of it, but was steadily failing. Mike was finding it harder and harder to be biased against someone who had that sort of view on themselves and life in general.
"I…I'm not even going to kid Sully…I feel…sorry for the guy…" Mike said quietly. "Can you imagine having someone call you that? Calling you a mistake…how you're never going to be anything but a mistake…just a thing…especially your own mother doing that…"
"We don't even know if he did know that, Mike. Maybe they never told him that." Sully said slowly.
They returned their attention to the file and then noticed three simple words scrawled all over the next sheet. Mommy knows best…They stared at that for a second and then flipped it over.
Nothing, just a nothing. Never going to be anything but a mistake… I hate them all, I hate them all! Why is it always me? Why can't I ever have anything to hold onto? It's not fair! There always is Rachel though… But she ignores me. After all, who would want to hang around me? Everyone says so, my own mother said so…In fact…why bother? Yeah, that's it... Forget them all…but why does it hurt so much? If I'm past caring anymore it shouldn't hurt…He said that today…personally I think I am in agreement, and I shouldn't be. What's the point of acting the part of conscience if you agree with whatever horrible thing the guide is talking about? It doesn't work. I think I'm losing him…
"They told him…" Mike said his eye widening. Sully was staring at it in shock. "What kind of person tells that sort of thing to a kid?"
"Obviously the kind who don't think…" Sully answered softly. "Can you imagine living with that over your head? No wonder he threw himself into that machine after a while. If he's being accepted for it, getting some form of credit for it, can you really blame him? Alright, you can, but still… How could we not notice?"
"Notice what?" Mike scoffed, "He was a creep, and he still is a creep, a nicer creep but still a creep. He…he…dang it, he's a jerk. But I feel sorry for him as well…"
"I'm in agreement…" Sully said sighing. "Wait a minute…this line here, 'she ignores me', you don't think…"
"That she only warmed up to him when there was no one else to comfort her?" Mike asked raising his eyebrow.
Sully stared at him for a second his expression surprised. "Actually yeah…that was what I was thinking…"
"Some older sister, who…isn't really his sister… Dang it Sul, did we have to decide to find out about a person so full of dead ends and half truths? I mean seriously, the guy has a different identity, Toby. He also has a voice in the back of his skull. This is nuts." Mike sighed tossing his small stack of collected papers on the table where they spread out. Then one caught their eye. It was a photograph. They leaned in together and what they saw shocked them.
It was Randall, but it didn't look anything like Randall, this Randall was smiling, this Randall was hanging upside-down from a tree limb, and this Randall actually looked…happy. He appeared to be around four with fronds that looked almost two sizes too big on his head. Mike gave a quick snort at that, but what they ultimately noticed was the eyes. Brilliant green orbs that seemed to hold an abundance of mischief and innocence. The other main difference was the color scheme. They remembered Kyle talking about it and realized that this must have been the guide. Sully quietly picked up the photo and flipped the cover shut. Placing the happy carefree picture next to the one that was more recent and comparing them. The difference was extraordinary.
From the lively brightly smiling one, they turned their eyes (or eye in Mike's case) to the dark twisted smile on his face in the recent one. This one eyes were weary, guarded; you could almost call them jaded. The smile itself was bitter and there were a few lines that shouldn't have been there along the eyes. The difference was astronomical and horrible. Mike was staring at them both in slight shock, his entire outlook on the reptile changing even more greatly than when he had read the writing.
"My word Mike…" Sully said looking at the pictures with horror on his face. "No one should look like that…not at his age…just look at him there…"
"What did we do Sul?"
"I don't follow you…"
"WE banished him to that human world. WE were the ones who let him think for, what was it? Nine years that he had killed his own sister. Don't look at me like that, of course he blamed himself for it, doing it on purpose or not… You can tell what he's like, he gave up everything. He has to be at the LEAST obsessive, he's already schizophrenic, there's no other explanation. And now he's in a hospital in a coma. How bad can one monsters luck be?!" Mike shouted in exasperation clapping one hand to his forehead and running it down his face.
Sully was looking especially horrified. Slowly he took a deep breath and clenched his fists hard; if the knuckles had been visible they would have turned white. "Mike, we need to make this right. We need to talk to him, help him through it somehow. There's no other thing for it; it needs to be done. Let him know he's not a nothing. It's a wonder he's not suicidal..." Sully said shaking his head, his voice determined. "In fact, he probably is, he did slice himself open."
"His secondary did…" Mike said slowly. "He cut his bottom arm open; those are the ones the secondary is supposed to control according to her. That secondary is bad news. I don't like it; he has a murderous little voice in his head that really doesn't think too highly of himself, or others I'm betting. Or us…it probably HATES us. The secondary might be obsessive compulsive. It would make sense. His whole attitude changed, the way he related to people. He's getting progressively nastier to people, it's almost like…" Mike paused and looked at the newer picture. "You know what I think Sul… I think that the one in dominance now was the original secondary, which makes the secondary NOW the guide…I mean, the guy we talk to now, his personality is more like the one who's writing here. And from what I can figure, that one's the secondary. Meaning the one that's trying to get dominance would have been the real guide. It would make sense! No one can change their entire attitude to that degree…"
"Mike I think you're absolutely correct. But I think it would possibly be better if the secondary remained the secondary. He's obviously weaker, which means we need to get the murderous one out."
"You're kidding right Sul, because that would mean that he would try to kill us." Mike stated in a matter of fact tone, his eye widening substantially.
"Maybe he won't, it's obvious the guide wasn't that bad. Just look at that picture and tell me he was. There has to be a way to reach him someway." Sully paused and the two looked at each other. "We'll find a way…" Mike nodded his agreement and the two stuffed the pages back into the folder and knocked on the door. It was opened by another monster, and after they returned the file to the cabinet they were led out of the room and back to the reception area.
…………………………………………(PAST)…………………………………………
In the days that followed Randall began to regret his rather spur of the moment idea to leave. In fact he was beginning to feel guilty, and it wasn't helping that he hadn't been able to hunt anything recently he was feeling so out of it. In fact, he was seriously considering just lying down and dying, if it wasn't for the ever present voice in the back of his skull goading him on, encouraging him, and providing him with energy he had not known he possessed, he would have.
"Come on Randall, we need to get home some time…" The secondary prompted.
"To what? What do we have there that's worth having?" The guide's sullen voice responded.
"I don't know, but we don't have to stay here, it's more dangerous here than it would be if we returned…" The secondary sounded rather optimistic, hoping the guide would agree…no such luck.
"Once again, to what?"
"Cyrus…"
"Probably hates us and Fungus more than likely is happy we're gone just looking at the way we've treated him the past couple months…" The guide was sounding especially downtrodden.
"You mean the way YOU treated him, I told you it was no way to treat your friends…"
"He's not a friend, none of them really are, and you remember the last few 'friends' we've had…"
"We've been around them for years; they haven't done anything to us yet…" The secondary seemed to pause waiting for a response from its other self, when none was forthcoming he sighed. "We can't just lie down and die. It doesn't suit us for one, and well, I always hoped it would be a happier end than this…"
"I have no idea how I got stuck with someone like you, but I'm not so sure I'm complaining. Just don't get too happy ok? Otherwise I might just have to find a way to sever this happy connection."
"Good luck with that, it can't be done. I'm here whether you like it or not and there is nothing you can do to change that." His voice sounded smug in Randall's ears and mind and the guide smiled, it was small but it was there, and it was a start. If only it had lasted. He was captured only a few days after. This time, not as an experiment, but as a pet to a rather stupid person who enjoyed having rather dangerous slimy things around, Randall managed to escape but in that time it had been almost a grand total of six years, and if Randall was right it had been around one when he had been experimented on.
This is glazed over but in the amount of torturing and suffering he went through it was enough to throw anyone over the brink. And it did…
………………………………(Back in the Present, hospital)………..…………….………
Randall woke up with a jolt. His eyes wide and surprised as he stared around at the room around him, cool blankets were on him and the room was white, but his attention soon came upon the rather shocked gasp from the nurse who was currently checking his pulse. Cyrus practically jumped up as he noticed his best friend was awake. Randall barely even noticed. With a rather cool smile on his face he sank back into the pillows, shutting off everything else, and right before he fell asleep there was one last thing he did.
Scales shimmered black and red, color slowly pooling down his body.
The guide had been reinstated. The secondary had given up.
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Cue scary music! Ok, ladies and gentleman, the part you have all been waiting for…well…sort of… Next week… *insert evil laugh.
Alright, brief clarification in case it wasn't too clear. Eight limbed reptiles have a secondary. That secondary controls the second pair of limbs, and in some cases a color changing ability. They have their own personalities, but sometimes they have their own identity. Randall is one of the few that has the second type. He has someone else in his skull so to speak. The guide is a rather pessimistic, gloomy, nasty individual, yet at a younger age he wasn't, at least, not as much. His secondary provides comfort, counseling and optimism. During the movie and before that the guide was in charge, later, not telling you when or why, (for plot reasons) the secondary got control. That's why certain key traits seemed out of place. For instance the comforting of Rick, the quick forgiving of Mike and Sully, the easy response to Kyle, all of these are things the guide (the one in control during the movie) wouldn't do. So for those of you that thought he was getting a little O.O.C that's why, he really was another character. Doesn't my mind work in funny ways? How did it start? Sean Fogle's comment of, paraphrasing here, "I wonder if he even has control over his second pair of arms" in relation to Randall 'accidentally' whacking him over the head with one of them. He doesn't have control…because someone else controls them! (Insert evil laugh) In case you haven't noticed, I'm just a little crazy…
How would that work in a real situation? Think of it like this, the guide proposes a goal, the secondary follows it out. The guide is usually stronger than the secondary so there is no question and it is done without hesitation. However in Randall's case, since the secondary now was originally the guide, there are little ticks in his system, such as odd control panels, virus setting, self inflicted harm… Understand now? Good… (If you don't I'll try to answer any questions you might have, so PM me, ok? Certain things will be explained later though, so if I don't answer you, it's probably a plot point.) Sorry for the length of this authors note, but I figured it'd be best if I clarified this crazy idea of mine before someone went, 'huh?!'