A/N: WAAAAAAAAAAAAH! SOB! BOO-HOO! I'm back at school now - my holidays are
over! And to add to that, I already wanna kill some of the boys taking the
mickey out of me! RANT! RAVE! SHRIEK!
OK - I'm calm - calm...enjoy Chapter Number 6!
*
Chapter 6
"...But if zey are going to be built for bad matters, zen zey von't vork for ze maker".
Crumhorn shut the tape recorder off with a displeased look on his face. DM, standing next to Woodruff by the attic hatch, exchanged a troubled look with the collie.
"Why didn't you warn me about this?" demanded Crumhorn fiercely.
"I didn't know that Squakencluck had been so careful", said DM worriedly. "But there is a way to beat it. Play the recorder again".
Crumhorn glared at him, but pressed the 'Play' button on the recorder.
"Vell - oh, zis is rather silly - but zey vork if ze maker acts as if vat zey are doing is gut", said Squakencluck's voice.
Crumhorn gave DM a weird look.
"That's what I thought", said DM.
"There's something very wrong with that scientist", piped up Woodruff. "He doesn't seem to live in the real world. I mean, acting like Florence Nightingail just to get a machine to work? What the heck does he think he's doing?"
Crumhorn and DM looked at Woodruff, and then at each other.
"Well, he trusts me", said DM thoughtfully. "And besides, he has a brilliant mind - he's one of a kind. Acting like we're doing the right thing - not everyone would realise that's all it takes to get these weapons to work for us".
"He has a point", admitted Crumhorn grudgingly. "So, boys, starting from now, BE CAREFUL OF WHAT YOU SAY IN FRONT OF THE MACHINES. Don't let on any of our plans - do you understand me?"
DM and Woodruff both nodded.
"Now, Woodruff", said Crumhorn, turning to him. "I want you to go down to the underground room and check that everything is undisturbed. I shall be down any moment to continue my work".
"Yes, Professor". Woodruff took off for the ladder.
"And you", said Crumhorn to DM. "You go back to your pillar-box, and prepare yourself for my final order. Don't make them suspect ANYTHING".
*
"Damien?" said Penfold in confusion.
Kim showed him the Polaroid photo. Penfold looked at it, his eyes widening (they seemed to be doing that a lot these days...).
"I found all this just now", said Kim, as Penfold gave back the Polaroid. She handed him the certificate. "What's weird about him is that he looks like DM, but DM never told me about him - and by the sounds of it, he never told you either?"
"No. I don't remember him telling me about any Damien", replied Penfold. "In fact, I didn't even know about any of this stuff!"
"Well, check out this", said Kim, taking the framed photo from the shoebox and handing that over. "Doesn't he remind you a bit of DM?"
"Yes, he does", said Penfold. "Especially in that jumpsuit. But he's without an eyepatch - and DM's had his since he was a baby; he told me".
"He had an eye-infection, didn't he?" said Kim, sidetracked from the matter of 'Damien' for a moment.
"Yes - his left eye was scarred and closed up", replied Penfold. "The doctor couldn't cure it, so DM had to wear an eyepatch".
"I think he looks nice with it", smiled Kim fondly. Then she blushed and looked away. Penfold couldn't help but giggle a little under his breath. Then his giggling came to abrupt halt when there was a sound of motors and a faint noise as the lift shaft went up into the lounge.
"DM's back!" hissed Kim, grabbing the picture from Penfold and putting it back into the shoebox with the rest of the clues. She slammed the lid down and quickly slid the box under her bed. Then both of them struck casual poses as DM came past the door. He stopped and looked in on them suspiciously.
"Er - hello, you two", he said.
Penfold nearly fell over from his folded arms position. He had expected a harsh remark from the Chief. Kim too was looking surprised.
"H-hello, Chief", stuttered Penfold with a hopeful face.
"Been up to anything today?" asked DM in a lighter tone.
"Uh - yes, we were looking at a - "
"Nothing!" cried Kim, cutting across. "We were looking at - nothing".
"Really? Well, I'll go and put the kettle on", replied DM, actually adding a chuckle to his sentence.
Penfold and Kim exchanged disbelieving looks.
Then their faces broke out into big grins.
"C'mon!" giggled Kim and she and Penfold ran out to the kitchen to where DM was filling the kettle with water.
"Coffee or tea?" he asked in his usual, polite tone.
The rest of the day went on like this. DM was pleasant, almost like his old self. But as much as Kim liked his behaviour, she couldn't help but feel as if something were missing. Something just...didn't feel right.
But what was it?
And all the time, the hidden items lying underneath Kim's bed in that dusty shoebox kept swimming before her eyes. The photos...the certificate...and the name Damien...what did it all add up to?
Kim hoped they would find out soon.
*
Two days later - on the morning of HALLOWEEN!
"Cause this is Thriller, thriller night...!"
Penfold's voice warbled out from the kitchen as he sang Michael Jackson's 'Thriller' to get into the Halloween spirit. In front of him, there was an open pumpkin, the insides scooped out into a bowl.
"Careful!" Kim ran into the kitchen. "You shouldn't do this on your own, Penfold!"
"Sorry, Kim", replied Penfold. "Could you help me to cut out Mr. Pumpkin, please?"
Kim took the knife from him and started to carefully cut out the shape of a triangle near the top of the pumpkin.
"Morning, Kim, Penfold", said DM, coming in with the paper under his arm. "What's that you're - "
His voice trailed off when he saw the pumpkin. He took a step back, giving his lip a very sharp bite. Blood started to trail from where he had bitten.
"Like it, Chief?" said Penfold cheefully. "Mind you, it'll look better once the whole - "
But then there didn't seem any point in Penfold finishing his sentence, because DM had run from the room, his face filled with horror.
"What's wrong with him NOW?" asked Kim, panicked.
"I don't know - I thought he was alright", gasped Penfold, looking scared.
Elsewhere in the pillar-box, 'Alright' wasn't the first word for one to describe DM. The White Wonder had run to the nearest bathroom, and had thrown up in the toilet. His strength suddenly abandoning him again, he flushed the toilet, and then allowed himself to collapse and lay panting beside the toilet bowl.
The whole side of the wall where DM now lay was a full mirror. It reflected the whole room in its gaze. Looking up, DM saw his skinny, unhealthy face in the mirror and gently touched the glass with his hand. His reflection did the same. DM was nothing now but a helpless mouse, pitted against Crumhorn who was putting him through the most unimaginable misery. DM was his servant, his slave, and there was no way out for him.
And there was absolutely nothing that he could do to help himself.
These past couple of days had been hard, acting all cheeful as to make Penfold and Kim not suspect him. They were RIGHT THERE, and DM couldn't ask them for help. He suddenly felt so alone.
"Someone please help me", he croaked. "Someone, ANYONE! Maybe - maybe even - "
No, he would not think about HIM. How could HE help Danger Mouse anyway, after what had happened? DM had acted these past thirteen years as though what had occured was not true. But he knew deep down that it had, and he couldn't change that.
Feeling suddenly overheated, DM mopped his brow and closed his eyes. He didn't know how long he stayed there, but it must have been a while, because when he next looked at his watch, it was 12.30 pm and someone was knocking on the bathroom door.
"DM?" asked Penfold's voice. "What's wrong? Please, just talk to us".
You know what to do, said that little voice in DM's head.
Yes, he DID know what to do. Time to get a grip and get back on track.
DM stood up very shakily. Then he went to a little cupboard attached to the wall. He opened it - and brought out a gun.
DM very slowly opened the bathroom door to reveal Penfold, looking scared stiff.
"Cor, Chief! I'm glad you're..." Penfold's voice trailed off in uncertainty as he saw the gun in his friend's hands.
"Don't move. Don't scream", growled DM. He held the gun out at Penfold, whose face drained of all colour.
"Chief - "
"To the lounge".
Kim was doing some dusting in the lounge. She turned to smile at whoever had entered, but her smile faded and she dropped the duster as DM came in, holding Penfold as hostage.
"Uh - this is a joke, isn't it?" said Penfold weakly.
"You wish", hissed DM. He pointed his gun at Kim.
"Both of you - onto the sofa", he said menacingly. "We're going for a little RIDE".
OK - I'm calm - calm...enjoy Chapter Number 6!
*
Chapter 6
"...But if zey are going to be built for bad matters, zen zey von't vork for ze maker".
Crumhorn shut the tape recorder off with a displeased look on his face. DM, standing next to Woodruff by the attic hatch, exchanged a troubled look with the collie.
"Why didn't you warn me about this?" demanded Crumhorn fiercely.
"I didn't know that Squakencluck had been so careful", said DM worriedly. "But there is a way to beat it. Play the recorder again".
Crumhorn glared at him, but pressed the 'Play' button on the recorder.
"Vell - oh, zis is rather silly - but zey vork if ze maker acts as if vat zey are doing is gut", said Squakencluck's voice.
Crumhorn gave DM a weird look.
"That's what I thought", said DM.
"There's something very wrong with that scientist", piped up Woodruff. "He doesn't seem to live in the real world. I mean, acting like Florence Nightingail just to get a machine to work? What the heck does he think he's doing?"
Crumhorn and DM looked at Woodruff, and then at each other.
"Well, he trusts me", said DM thoughtfully. "And besides, he has a brilliant mind - he's one of a kind. Acting like we're doing the right thing - not everyone would realise that's all it takes to get these weapons to work for us".
"He has a point", admitted Crumhorn grudgingly. "So, boys, starting from now, BE CAREFUL OF WHAT YOU SAY IN FRONT OF THE MACHINES. Don't let on any of our plans - do you understand me?"
DM and Woodruff both nodded.
"Now, Woodruff", said Crumhorn, turning to him. "I want you to go down to the underground room and check that everything is undisturbed. I shall be down any moment to continue my work".
"Yes, Professor". Woodruff took off for the ladder.
"And you", said Crumhorn to DM. "You go back to your pillar-box, and prepare yourself for my final order. Don't make them suspect ANYTHING".
*
"Damien?" said Penfold in confusion.
Kim showed him the Polaroid photo. Penfold looked at it, his eyes widening (they seemed to be doing that a lot these days...).
"I found all this just now", said Kim, as Penfold gave back the Polaroid. She handed him the certificate. "What's weird about him is that he looks like DM, but DM never told me about him - and by the sounds of it, he never told you either?"
"No. I don't remember him telling me about any Damien", replied Penfold. "In fact, I didn't even know about any of this stuff!"
"Well, check out this", said Kim, taking the framed photo from the shoebox and handing that over. "Doesn't he remind you a bit of DM?"
"Yes, he does", said Penfold. "Especially in that jumpsuit. But he's without an eyepatch - and DM's had his since he was a baby; he told me".
"He had an eye-infection, didn't he?" said Kim, sidetracked from the matter of 'Damien' for a moment.
"Yes - his left eye was scarred and closed up", replied Penfold. "The doctor couldn't cure it, so DM had to wear an eyepatch".
"I think he looks nice with it", smiled Kim fondly. Then she blushed and looked away. Penfold couldn't help but giggle a little under his breath. Then his giggling came to abrupt halt when there was a sound of motors and a faint noise as the lift shaft went up into the lounge.
"DM's back!" hissed Kim, grabbing the picture from Penfold and putting it back into the shoebox with the rest of the clues. She slammed the lid down and quickly slid the box under her bed. Then both of them struck casual poses as DM came past the door. He stopped and looked in on them suspiciously.
"Er - hello, you two", he said.
Penfold nearly fell over from his folded arms position. He had expected a harsh remark from the Chief. Kim too was looking surprised.
"H-hello, Chief", stuttered Penfold with a hopeful face.
"Been up to anything today?" asked DM in a lighter tone.
"Uh - yes, we were looking at a - "
"Nothing!" cried Kim, cutting across. "We were looking at - nothing".
"Really? Well, I'll go and put the kettle on", replied DM, actually adding a chuckle to his sentence.
Penfold and Kim exchanged disbelieving looks.
Then their faces broke out into big grins.
"C'mon!" giggled Kim and she and Penfold ran out to the kitchen to where DM was filling the kettle with water.
"Coffee or tea?" he asked in his usual, polite tone.
The rest of the day went on like this. DM was pleasant, almost like his old self. But as much as Kim liked his behaviour, she couldn't help but feel as if something were missing. Something just...didn't feel right.
But what was it?
And all the time, the hidden items lying underneath Kim's bed in that dusty shoebox kept swimming before her eyes. The photos...the certificate...and the name Damien...what did it all add up to?
Kim hoped they would find out soon.
*
Two days later - on the morning of HALLOWEEN!
"Cause this is Thriller, thriller night...!"
Penfold's voice warbled out from the kitchen as he sang Michael Jackson's 'Thriller' to get into the Halloween spirit. In front of him, there was an open pumpkin, the insides scooped out into a bowl.
"Careful!" Kim ran into the kitchen. "You shouldn't do this on your own, Penfold!"
"Sorry, Kim", replied Penfold. "Could you help me to cut out Mr. Pumpkin, please?"
Kim took the knife from him and started to carefully cut out the shape of a triangle near the top of the pumpkin.
"Morning, Kim, Penfold", said DM, coming in with the paper under his arm. "What's that you're - "
His voice trailed off when he saw the pumpkin. He took a step back, giving his lip a very sharp bite. Blood started to trail from where he had bitten.
"Like it, Chief?" said Penfold cheefully. "Mind you, it'll look better once the whole - "
But then there didn't seem any point in Penfold finishing his sentence, because DM had run from the room, his face filled with horror.
"What's wrong with him NOW?" asked Kim, panicked.
"I don't know - I thought he was alright", gasped Penfold, looking scared.
Elsewhere in the pillar-box, 'Alright' wasn't the first word for one to describe DM. The White Wonder had run to the nearest bathroom, and had thrown up in the toilet. His strength suddenly abandoning him again, he flushed the toilet, and then allowed himself to collapse and lay panting beside the toilet bowl.
The whole side of the wall where DM now lay was a full mirror. It reflected the whole room in its gaze. Looking up, DM saw his skinny, unhealthy face in the mirror and gently touched the glass with his hand. His reflection did the same. DM was nothing now but a helpless mouse, pitted against Crumhorn who was putting him through the most unimaginable misery. DM was his servant, his slave, and there was no way out for him.
And there was absolutely nothing that he could do to help himself.
These past couple of days had been hard, acting all cheeful as to make Penfold and Kim not suspect him. They were RIGHT THERE, and DM couldn't ask them for help. He suddenly felt so alone.
"Someone please help me", he croaked. "Someone, ANYONE! Maybe - maybe even - "
No, he would not think about HIM. How could HE help Danger Mouse anyway, after what had happened? DM had acted these past thirteen years as though what had occured was not true. But he knew deep down that it had, and he couldn't change that.
Feeling suddenly overheated, DM mopped his brow and closed his eyes. He didn't know how long he stayed there, but it must have been a while, because when he next looked at his watch, it was 12.30 pm and someone was knocking on the bathroom door.
"DM?" asked Penfold's voice. "What's wrong? Please, just talk to us".
You know what to do, said that little voice in DM's head.
Yes, he DID know what to do. Time to get a grip and get back on track.
DM stood up very shakily. Then he went to a little cupboard attached to the wall. He opened it - and brought out a gun.
DM very slowly opened the bathroom door to reveal Penfold, looking scared stiff.
"Cor, Chief! I'm glad you're..." Penfold's voice trailed off in uncertainty as he saw the gun in his friend's hands.
"Don't move. Don't scream", growled DM. He held the gun out at Penfold, whose face drained of all colour.
"Chief - "
"To the lounge".
Kim was doing some dusting in the lounge. She turned to smile at whoever had entered, but her smile faded and she dropped the duster as DM came in, holding Penfold as hostage.
"Uh - this is a joke, isn't it?" said Penfold weakly.
"You wish", hissed DM. He pointed his gun at Kim.
"Both of you - onto the sofa", he said menacingly. "We're going for a little RIDE".