AN: Well, here's part two. I don't have much to say about it, so this'll be short. Oh, yeah, I forgot to warn everyone last time. This is meant to be an extremely disturbing fic. It gets pretty…I dunno if you'd call it deep, at the end. More like intense. There's serious death and Issues. Bad Stuff happens. If that bothers you, then…thanks for dropping by. Nothing too graphic, but some rather awful stuff gets mentioned in passing.
If you're still here, let me know when you figured out just exactly what Dryden is to Nosedive.
I bet you'll never guess.
Disclaimer: Not it!
Part Two: Little White Lies
Truth is the Optional Reality
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop the play!" Canard skated from the goalposts to Nosedive, frowning slightly. "Small fry, you missed that puck by a mile. This is a relatively simple play; what's up?"
Nosedive shrugged, refusing to meet the leader's eyes. "I dunno. Just off my game, I guess."
"Well, that's not gonna work out here." Canard tapped the ice lightly with the toe of one skate. "Either you're on your game naturally or you make yourself be on your game. That's what hockey's all about, isn't it?"
"Yeah," the teen mumbled, "I guess."
"Bro, what's up?" Wildwing asked, skating over. "You're not usually this spaced. You okay?"
Nosedive shrugged again, still staring at the ice by his feet.
"Rough night?"
The teen's gaze snapped up in surprise. He looked at his brother, who was smiling fondly and a little sadly.
"Nightmares again?"
He glanced away, embarrassed. Nightmares so terrifying he hadn't even been able to scream. How had Wildwing known?
Canard sighed, giving the teen a lopsided smile. "It's okay, squirt. We've all had rough nights. You can cut out of practice this one time, okay? But you'd better be ready tomorrow. Go take a nap or something."
Nosedive shot his brother and Canard grateful looks as he skated away. Once he was underground, though, his mask melted away and he frowned worriedly at his door, shifting his weight uncertainly. Of course he couldn't take a nap. That involved sleeping, and he didn't want to sleep if he could help it.
Sighing, the alien teen turned toward the workroom, where the newly repaired Duckcycle was just begging to be ridden. No one would mind if he left as long as he took his com.
Right?
Nosedive watched Justin skate, respect and envy mingling pleasantly in his chest. The human practically flew, shifting from half-pipe to quarter-pipe to other obstacles Dive hadn't learned the names for with tricks and effortless talent that left the mind boggled.
"Hey, Dive," Justin greeted, skating over once he noticed his audience. "What brings you to the skate park so early?"
The duck shrugged. "I'm always up this early and I couldn't stay at the Pond any more. I figured I'd head over here and get some practice in. Didn't expect to see you here already, though."
Justin laughed. "Yeah. I like to sleep, but I love skating. There's no contest for me. I'm gonna be here all day. How about you?"
"As long as I can manage," Nosedive admitted, shrugging. "Don't know when my brother will call me back in, but I'm hoping I'll be able to learn something new before then. What do you think?"
"Sure," Justin agreed easily.
They spent the next three hours working on different tricks. Justin took Nosedive through the skate park, naming each of the obstacles and listing all the different tricks that could be performed on them.
"You're getting very good at this," Justin complimented, watching Nosedive on the half-pipe. "You'll be serious competition in no time flat at this rate."
"Nah," Nosedive disagreed, skating slowly over. "I'm not trying to learn so I can compete."
"Then why are you?"
A shrug. "It just looked like something fun to do, ya know? Something challenging and time consuming."
"Huh." Justin glided a small distance away, thinking, a slight frown turning down the corners of his mouth. Finally he grinned back at Nosedive. "Hey, it's lunch time. You wanna go see if Thrash and Mookie are free? They were only supposed to be pulling the morning shift. We could all get something to eat and catch a movie."
"Cool," Nosedive agreed, catching up with the earth teen. "What's playing?"
"Hmm, let's see…my sister says The Count of Monte Cristo was good, but I kinda wanted to see The Mothman Prophecies, myself."
Nosedive shrugged, smiling a lopsided smile. "Mothman looks excellent."
"Great, we can see that. There should be a 2:15 showing we can all go to."
"Okay. That works."
They lapsed into a silence that was neither oppressive nor uncomfortable. Justin studied Nosedive out of the corner of his eye.
Spending a lot of time outside with friends, getting involved with an activity that was hugely time consuming, developing a tendency to brood, worry or fear growing steadily in the eye's shadow… All the signs were there. But why?
"Come on," he suggested suddenly, making Dive look up in surprise. "Let's race!" He took off, leaving the bewildered Puckworldian behind for only a moment.
Justin knew almost instinctively that Nosedive would have won if he'd wanted to.
"Hey, Thrash, Mookie!"
The two, just stepping out of Captain Comics, spotted the skaters and smiled. Mookie waved. "Hey, guys!"
"You guys wanna get something to eat and catch a flick?"
"Sure." Mookie grinned. "Oh, by the way, Dive, your comics came in today."
"No, really? Sweet! Hold on, I'm gonna go get 'em. Meet you guys at the food court. What're we having anyway?"
"Need you ask?" Thrash asked in mock surprise.
"Tacos?" Nosedive guessed, grinning.
"Naturally."
"Okay, meet you there!"
"See ya!"
Dive skated merrily into the comic shop, totally unaware of the calculating gaze that followed his falsely carefree actions.
One of his friends was not fooled.
The moment Nosedive had been dreading since he left the Pond almost twelve hours earlier took place as he was setting up for a landing from what would normally have been a beautifully executed sick grab.
His com went off suddenly, startling him into dropping the skate frame he'd been holding, which rightly and totally screwed up his landing. He hit the side of the half-pipe hard, sliding and tumbling down to lay in a confused, tangled heap at the bottom. Justin, knowing how falls like that felt, stayed at the top of his quarter-pipe instead of skating down and laughed, pointing at Nosedive and clutching his stomach. A few of the other skaters present merely made compassionate sounds of understanding and continued to play.
Nosedive sat up, pulled off his helmet, and answered the call. "Yeah?" he asked almost hesitantly. Justin saw him wince at the response. He kicked off his quarter-pipe, gliding to where Nosedive sat in time to catch him saying, "Yeah, I'm sorry. I know, I should have called, but it's not eight yet and that's when you said to call."
"You didn't even tell anyone you were going out," an angry voice accused.
Another wince. "I know. I didn't think I'd be out all that long."
That, Justin knew, was a lie.
"All the same," a new voice commented, "you should have called."
"I know, Canard. I'm sorry."
"If you know all this and you're always sorry, why do you keep doing it?"
"I dunno…"
"At least it's a different answer," the one called Canard sighed. "Come back now and report to the Ready Room. We'll be waiting there when you-"
"I can't," Nosedive interrupted.
There was a silence. Then, "Why not?"
"I promised some people I'd…help out before I went. It might take a while."
"Well…"
"C'mon, Wing, I'll be there just as soon as I can."
"All right," was the sighed response. "But if I ever figure out you let yourself get distracted…"
The threat hung in the air a moment. Nosedive was quick to reassure the anxious ducks on the other side of his com that he'd be fine. Finally he said goodbye and hung up, sighing and slumping once he'd disconnected.
"What's up?" Justin asked casually, plopping down next to the Puckworldian.
"Nothing."
"Really?" Justin looked skeptical. "Those two guys sounded pretty ticked."
"Yeah. My brother and his best friend, Canard, self-appointed taskmaster." Nosedive sounded bitter. "Now the grand total's up to three."
"Grand total of what?"
"My older brothers."
"What'd ya mean?"
"I've got Wing, my blood brother who worries too much and is Disappointed, Duke, my surrogate brother who watches over me even when I don't need it and is distantly Concerned, and Canard, my reluctant-but-apparently-necessary brother who doles out punishments and is Shocked that I've live this long without killing myself."
"Huh. Seems like overkill," Justin observed, quirking a grin. "I've just got an older sister and I've pretty much got my hands full with her having her hands full with me. It's confusing."
"Multiply that by three and you might have an inkling of what I'm going through." Nosedive sighed and stood, stretching to get out the kinks. "Ow. That last landing hurt."
"It was priceless, though. Truly a masterpiece."
"Thanks."
"No prob. Hey, why'd you lie to them?"
Nosedive winced, skating a bit to loosen his tight muscles. "I didn't necessarily…lie…per se…"
Justin stood as well and glided easily by the Puckworldian. "No one needs you to help out here."
"I know."
"The staff does all that at ten when they close."
"I know."
"You're going to stay here till closing."
"I know."
"So you lied."
"…I know."
"Why?"
"I just…" Another frustrated sigh as Nosedive dragged a hand through his hair. "It's hard. Everyone always wants me to be this perfect little hockey playing heroic teenager. They've set me up with this whole…persona that just doesn't mesh with some of the things I've seen and done and had done to me. I mean, now that he's back, they're going to figure out I'm not who they think I am, and I don't think they'll be able to handle it. Dryden's—" Nosedive cut himself off, continuing to skate but glaring slightly at the concrete beneath him as though it'd betrayed him.
Justin was silent for a long time. Then he asked, very slowly, "Who's Dryden?" From the sudden blossoming of panic in Nosedive's eyes, Justin knew he'd finally figured out just what he'd wanted to know. "You don't have to tell me yet," he assured. "Not if you don't want to."
Nosedive didn't respond. After a while he skated back over to the half pipe; his grabs still needed work, and the skate park would close soon. He wanted it to be perfect before he left.
Perfection didn't save you from pain, but sometimes it helped.
"Why do these guys only attack at night?" Tanya yawned from her seat in the Aerowing.
"Better question," Duke argued, "why are they popping up in a meat packing plant?"
"Factory discount?" Nosedive suggested thinly. He had an idea whose plan would take the Saurians to a meat freezer, though he also hoped desperately he was wrong.
"We'll know in a second," Wildwing responded, bringing the ship in for a silent landing on the roof.
"Tanya, you go with Grin," Canard ordered. "Duke, you're with Mallory. Nosedive, you come with Wildwing and me. There's no way we're having a repeat of last time."
Nosedive winced, unnoticed, as the others went off in pairs. He trailed behind Wildwing and Canard, damning his luck. Should've stayed with Justin. Just a few more minutes and they probably would have left him back in Anaheim rather than waste time tracking him down. Damn his rotten luck and sense of time.
What were they doing in a refrigerated meat factory, anyway? Not that the cold bothered him, but really. It was yet another example of the Saurians' (or his) lack of imagination. If they wanted to freak him out, the least they could do was put a little effort into it.
Just as Wildwing and Canard told him to stay put and slipped into the office section of the compound, an old Puckworldian lullaby tinkled softly in the background, making the tiny hairs on the back of Nosedive's neck stand straight up.
Okay, so maybe they had put some effort into it. Especially if that was song he thought it was. Even now, after all these years, the sound of it chilled him to the bones.
It was the tune Dryden had always hummed whenever he cooked or…froze things.
His mind shied away from that thought even as his feet began leading him toward the sound.
Stupid! his mind screamed at him. Stupid! Do you realize where we're GOING?
Yes. Of course he realized where he was going.
Do you realize to whom we're walking?
Yes. Oh, this was going to be very, very bad. But he couldn't stop. He was totally, 100% incapable of halting his forward progression.
The music was on the other side of this door.
Okay. This was the very last chance he had to turn away and save his own life. If he opened the door, he would probably either die or have to be saved.
Why the hell was he opening the door?
Nosedive slipped into the room and discovered two things immediately.
One: it was a very cold, ice-coated freezer.
Two: Dryden had an excellent memory and flare for dragging to the surface those things that Nosedive most wanted to forget.
Meat lined the walls. Probably different assorted parts of cows and such. In the very center of the room, perfectly preserved and totally frozen, was a heart. Cow heart, his Earthen biology informed him, but it didn't matter. It was the thought behind the heart that truly matted.
Nosedive pushed himself as far against the opposite wall as was physically possible, a whimper of complete and utter terror slipping out unbidden.
The figure standing behind the box with the heart chuckled. "I'd hoped you'd remember," Dryden said, smiling coldly.
The object of his cruel gaze continued to stare blindly at the heart, images and memories long repressed slamming to the surface. He began to tremble.
"Ah, Nosedive," Dryden sighed, stepping around the box as the younger duck slid to the ground, eyes still locked on the heart, "that wonderful look again. It always makes you look and act so…young, so weak. Don't worry though. I'm sure we can work on these little problems of yours the way we used to, right?" He crouched by the teen's side. "You do remember," he growled into his ear. "Don't you?" A huge crash came from just outside the door. The sounds of Wildwing and Canard looking frantically for Nosedive. "We'll continue this later," Dryden promised.
By the time Canard and Wildwing found Nosedive, the dark duck and his horrendous prop were long gone.
"Nosedive?" Wildwing called softly in concern, shaking his baby brother slightly to get his attention. The younger duck was staring at a point on the far wall of the freezer. A fine trembling had a strong hold on his slight frame and would not stop.
Finally Canard reached around Wildwing and hauled Nosedive to his feet. "Up you get, small fry," he instructed, and led the teen from the room.
Only when the door was closed was Nosedive able to talk, though even then he didn't say much.
"What happened?" his brother demanded. "Why'd you wander away? Why were you just sitting there? What happened?"
"I don't know," Nosedive would lie, looking away. "One minute I'm waiting for you to get back, the next Canard is dragging me from a freezer and you're demanding to know what happened. I honestly don't remember."
"You promise?" Wildwing practically begged.
That Nosedive wouldn't answer, settling for shaking his head and averting his already lowered gaze to study something—anything—else.
Wildwing may have questioned his little brother's excuse, but Canard would always remember that moment as the first time he had ever doubted Nosedive himself. It was the first time he'd ever been totally positive the younger duck was keeping secrets, and it was the first time he had ever cared.
But it was not the last.
Nosedive's time in the Pond, already the least of anyone else, began to diminish drastically. Soon he was only found indoors for two basic reasons: practice and sleep. Whoever his new friends were and whatever activities he'd taken up, they were consuming vast portions of his day. At first, no one really noticed. Or, if they did, they didn't make a big deal about it. As long as he made practice, checked in occasionally and kept his com with him, no one could really find fault with him for trying to have a life.
However, as the days became weeks and the weeks doubled and he continued to remove himself from the atmosphere that he used to choose above all else, the Mighty Ducks became concerned.
When asked about it, the teen only shrugged, grinned wryly and went off to do whatever it was he'd been doing.
The more time he spent away from the Pond, the more timid he became with his teammates, including his brother. It seemed almost as though they were beginning to scare him, and that was strange as well as upsetting
His growing discomfort with the team began to show in his game. In practice, he hesitated before passing the puck or shooting and would do anything to avoid checking or being checked.
Why was he so distressed suddenly? They hadn't done anything, had they? What had changed so drastically that Nosedive was choosing to pull away rather than face it?
Finally Canard, seeing no other option, called the teen aside after morning practice. Nosedive seemed nervous, which confused and troubled the leader. What had he ever done to the pipsqueak?
"Hey, small fry," Canard greeted in a desperate stab at nonchalant. "What's up?"
"Nothing," Nosedive assured too quickly, glancing around and wringing his hands slightly. How much did Canard guess?
"Are you going out?"
"Yeah."
"Huh… Why're you spending so much time out lately?"
A jerky shrug. "No reason. It's just really nice outside."
"Nosedive. It's been raining the past three days."
The teen winced. "Good company makes any day better," he offered hopefully.
Canard sighed. "Look, I was hoping I wouldn't have to ask flat-out like this, but…I'm not very good at diplomacy so I'll just spit it out. Who are you spending all this time with and why?"
Nosedive took an almost shaky breath. "Mostly Thrash and Mookie, but when they're working I, um…hang out with Justin and a few of his friends."
"Who's Justin? Thrash and Mookie I've been told about, but no one mentioned anyone by that name." A quick glance at the blank expressions on the rest of his team told him that this human must be a new acquaintance.
"I only met Justin a little while ago," Nosedive assured. "Thrash and Mookie introduced us. Justin's tight, though."
"Tight?"
"Oh, yeah, uh…I mean, he's ok."
"Are you sure?"
"Sure I'm sure." The teen blinked in confusion. "Why wouldn't I be sure?"
"It's just…" Canard sighed in frustration, frowning slightly. "Come on, Nosedive, you haven't even known this guy two months and you're spending more time with him then all of us put together. He's not even from our planet."
Nosedive was offended on his friend's behalf. "It's not his fault he's human. Plus, he's cool. He's teaching me a lot."
"Yeah, but about what?"
"Earth," the teen replied almost defiantly. "The people here and what they do."
"You mean the teenagers here and what they do."
"So what?"
"So—so nothing." Canard sighed again. "If you think what he's teaching you is worth while, that's fine with me. Still…"
"Still what?"
"Why can't you spend more time here?" the older duck exploded with sudden vehemence, motioning quickly with one hand.
And then he began to understand what Nosedive's problem was because, when he motioned, the teen flinched.
Shocked and oddly hurt, he remained motionless as Nosedive skittered away and out of the Pond, muttering something about being late.
"He flinched," Canard stated in a wounded voice when Wildwing came over to see how it had gone. "I just motioned with my hand and he flinched as though he thought I was going to strike him. I've never hit another being in anger before in my life. Sometimes I've really, really wanted to, but I've never actually done it. And that duckling—the pintsized twerp that practically grew up with me—flinched. Wildwing…is that why he's spending so much time away? Is he…is it possible that your brother is afraid of me?"
Wildwing started. "No!" he exclaimed. "Nosedive has known you forever. He knows you would never hurt him, just like he knows I would never hurt him. It's all right, Canard. I don't know what his problem is, but he'll either work through it on his own or come to me for help. He will get through it. He always does. Right?"
Canard didn't answer.
Nosedive pulled himself into a hand plant on the top of a quarter-pipe and held himself motionless. Then, instead of dropping back onto the sloping ramp, he flopped onto his back on its flat high surface. "Man," he sighed, "Canard's probably gonna take that the totally wrong way. But what can I do? It's a rock and a hard place for good ole Number 33. Again." Another sigh.
The sound of skating stopped suddenly as Justin grabbed a seat by Nosedive's blades. "'Sup, dude?"
"Nothing."
"That is the most depressed nothing I've ever heard in my entire life, so I'll ask again. What's up?"
Nosedive hesitated. Then, resigning himself to his fate, he sat up and frowned at the quarter-pipe that dropped off practically underneath him. "Have you ever known something that's really important and kinda horrible but been unable to tell anyone because the ones who need it the most might not be able to handle it and what it means?"
It took Justin a moment to process that. "Yeah," he admitted finally, "I kinda have."
"What was it?"
"I'll tell you if you tell me what you're talking about."
"Fair enough. So what'd you do about it?"
Justin did not miss the fact that Nosedive was silently refusing to tell him what was going on. "The information festered in my brain for a long, long time before I did what I'd always known I'd have to do. But, in the end, I just did it anyway, mostly because the someone who would suffer most didn't think I'd be able to actually do it. That's another story though."
A pause. "Did everything turn out all right?"
"Well," Justin sighed, standing, "it wasn't a picnic, and I still don't have what my sister calls a happily ever after, but things are better. It just got to a point where one of two things was going to happen and I picked option B."
"What was option A?"
"What's your option A?"
"Point taken."
"Nosedive, I'm not saying I don't want to tell you what happened, but you've gotta tell someone, too. The trade is just supposed to be an incentive."
The duck wouldn't respond.
Finally Justin dropped back onto the quarter-pipe, shaking his head as he skated away.
Nosedive watched him work out for a long time, and might have continued indefinitely had his com not gone off. "I'm here," he greeted.
"Nosedive, this is Tanya."
"Hey, Tanya. What's up?"
"Uh, Drake One picked up some weird teleportation energy in a wire factory across town. Canard wanted me to call and tell you to come back to the Pond so we can head over there."
So Canard was taking the flinching slip more personally than he'd previously feared. A pity. Oh, well, he'd get over it. "Be right there."
"Thanks. Tanya out."
Nosedive sighed and stood, stepping down onto the ramp's vertical drop and using the momentum to propel himself effortlessly across the arena to the door.
"Duty calls?" Justin asked, skating up to him.
"Yeah."
"Dude, no hard feelings, right?"
Nosedive grinned. "Actually, I was about to ask that myself."
Justin returned the grin. "Just worried about you, dude."
"You don't have to be."
The human shrugged and began skating away. "Have fun!"
"Yeah, yeah."
Justin's laugher echoed through the indoor skate park.
"Hey, look on the bright side," Nosedive offered helpfully. "At least it's not dark, right?"
"I'm going to kill him," Mallory informed Grin calmly. "I'm going to wring his scrawny little neck."
Nosedive picked that inopportune moment to laugh, and Mallory lunged at him. Grin grabbed her mid-leap and kept a restraining hand on her shoulder, telling her calmly, "Regret is born of haste; mistake born of anger."
Mallory continued to glare.
The three were caught in a cage, waiting anxiously for help. How they'd managed to get themselves trapped so early on was to become a long running joke, but not for many, many years to come.
"Wing and Canard will find us first," Nosedive predicted, toying with one of the thick bars. "Duke and Tanya won't be far behind. Wildwing will lecture me, then start to fizzle out, at which point Canard will take over. You two won't even get frowned at. Man, being the youngest sucks."
Mallory smirked at him and opened her mouth to add a barb.
She was cut off as something was dropped into the cage.
"How odd," she commented, picking it up and examining it. She showed it to Grin. "It's a dagger, but the tip's broken off. And…there's a little vial attached by twine. What's it mean?"
Grin shook his head, shrugging.
Neither looked over to Nosedive, who had pressed himself into the far corner of the cage, his face pale, familiar trembles running thorough him once again. He knew what the dagger meant, knew why it was broken, knew where the tip was. He knew what the vial and twine represented, both then and now.
He was here. Dryden.
At that moment two dark, strong hands darted through the bars to wrap tightly around the teen's neck.
It took a few moments before he could work up the ability to flail and gag. Once he did, Mallory and Grin turned to him.
Mallory let out a little cry of surprise, darting over and slamming the butt of her puck launcher into the closest hand. Grin jerked Nosedive out of the figure's hold, keeping him held protectively close as the laughing creature faded into the shadows once more.
Wildwing and Canard finally showed up and freed them. Mallory immediately gave an account of what happened and showed them the dagger, vial and twine.
"What does it mean?" Wildwing asked. No one knew.
Canard studied Nosedive inconspicuously. Even for a surprising physical attack such as had happened, the half-pint was very shaken. It was staying with him, making the fine tremors wracking his body continue even now that the threat was gone.
A few moments later, Duke and Tanya rounded a corner and were told the story.
Once they had all been gathered, the figure reappeared as though he'd been waiting for just such an occasion.
"The Mighty Ducks," it hissed, chuckling. "Not so mighty as all that, I'd say."
Nosedive recognized the voice and his trembling increased two-fold.
Only Canard noticed.
"You know us, but who're you? What do you want?" Wildwing demanded with all the strength he could muster.
Another low, dark laugh. "I? I am Dryden; just Dryden. And all I want is my property."
"We don't have anything that belongs to you!" Mallory told him angrily. "Why did you try to kill Nosedive?"
"I want what is mine."
"Oh yeah?" Duke challenged. "What's that?"
Finally Dryden stepped into the light and Canard's worst fear was confirmed. The duck smiled evilly, his eyes narrowed. "You will see."
He vanished in an explosion of black tinted green light.
"Ok, what was that?" Tanya demanded, turning on Canard. "Your face paled when he showed himself. Who is he?"
"Dryden," Canard sighed miserably, massaging his temples. "Dryden is…it's hard to explain. Let's go back to the Pond; we can talk about it there."
"Is the story long?" Mallory asked, confused.
"I'd feel safer there," Canard admitted, shaking his head.
"Is he that bad?"
"Yes. That and so much worse."
The trip back to the Pond was silent. It was quickly becoming the norm.
Nosedive excused himself before Canard told his story.
But that was to be expected, too.
"Dryden was…is the worst criminal Puckworld has ever known." Canard paused, studying the tabletop. Then he sighed, rubbed his face harshly, and continued, "For a long time, no one knew how bad he was, because he has this uncanny ability to blend right in with everyday people…who would have suspected him? But…he's nuts. When he was about twelve, at least that's how old the coroners think he was, something drastic happened to him and he went off the deep end, killing his entire family, mother, father, two older brothers and little sister. Then, over the next fifteen, twenty years, he murdered more people. The total was something like thirty-six all together. His trademark in all the murders showed how sick he really was. Whenever they looked the bodies over, they could always find everything except the heart. Even today no one knows what happened to them.
"You know, it's strange. Up until the day he was caught—and there's still speculation as to how he came to justice—he was a model citizen. He didn't have a record, hadn't ever even gotten a ticket or warning for anything. Once the Government realized what he was, they locked him up as tight as they could. Honestly, he frightened and embarrassed them. After all, they were dealing with Puckworld's only serial killer.
"When the Saurians hit, they stumbled upon information about him and decided to see if he'd work for them, which, predictably, he did. He led one of the worst, most horrifying camps to date, known as Dryden's Hell. Few survived, and those that did are wounded in every way possible, physically, mentally and emotionally. They can't tell anyone about what he did because they can't form the words. Most of them are so terrified of him they can't even be in the same room with people who are discussing him. They are physically incapable of hearing the name Dryden.
"And that's why I paled," he sighed. "That's what we're dealing with here. That's what the Saurians have contacted and dragged to this unsuspecting world. I honestly don't think they know what they've done yet, but they will. When they do, we can only hope they send him back to his cell."
Silence as the Mighty Ducks processed the new information.
"So…basically," Duke summarized, "now, instead of fighting Saurians bent on our destruction, we've got to face Saurians and the most evil Puckworldian ever created who, if he catches one of us, is probably going to kill us and rip out our hearts."
"Yeah," Canard agreed heavily, "that's about it."
"Well, damn."
"Pretty much."
AN: Erm, wa-haha? Anyway, see you next Wednesday(ish). Have a great Halloween!!