Warning: Child abuse and heavy themes explored. Viewer Discretion is advised.
BOOM!
"Wild storms here in Andover, a rarity for our fair town. Temperatures are actually dropping below zero!"
CRASH!
"Residents are advised to stay indoors and dress warmly, unless you want a cold shoulder!"
FLASH!
The windshield wiped and wiped the pouring rain away, the monotone swishing becoming the dominant genre of music in the vehicle.
Watching the droplets of rain pitter patter down his window, Cavendish tried his best to focus only on the storm and the quickly departing images that the car passed.
Quickly departing…
Like Ollie…
"Don't think about it.", he ordered, after feeling a pang of pain in his heart.
He looked over at his father, who had said nothing the entire journey, aside from silent huffs that sent a jolt down Cavendish's spine every single time they were uttered.
Poor Cavendish didn't even have the time to comprehend his feelings for Oliver, or the fact that he might be Bi, or the fact that he almost kissed his best friend…
Who he was never going to see again…
Hitting his head slightly on the window, Cavendish cursed his mind for reminding him of what he was about to lose.
Forever.
"Quiet!", a sudden, loud and frightening command came from the front seat, and Cavendish fidgeted slightly before silencing, allowing a very small sigh to escape his frozen lips.
Thanks to the sudden change in weather and his boarding school outfit now a little lacking for such extreme temperatures, he shivered and shook, his bones chattering as well as his teeth.
His tears would have been icicles, if he hadn't already cried them all out.
Finally, after what had felt like an eternity but was really only 8 minutes, the car began to approach its destination: The Cavendish Household.
Despite literally living in the future, Andover was one of the few towns that hadn't really changed in all those years: In fact, it still sort of looked like it lived in the 20th century.
Cavendish had always been jealous of other towns and cities when he read about them in the official B.O.T.T magazine. Cities like New York, London, Danville… They got to have robots everywhere, a flying car in each garage and incredible technologies like teleportation devices and holograms!
Not to mention time travellers!
Oh, how Cavendish admired them: Tireless men and women who protected the time stream from maniacal villains! Who stood for Truth, Justice and Loyalty to mankind!
All thanks to the one Cavendish admired most: Professor Time (otherwise known as Heinz Doofensmhirtz)!
Now, that was someone Cavendish wanted to be like!
But Andover, unfortunately, was not like that.
The streets were populated not with robots, but with traffic cops and street signs.
The car he was utterly and completely alone in couldn't fly, let alone soar through the clouds, soothing his stormy soul.
And instead of teleportation and hologram devices, all Cavendish had in his sights was the ancient and not very inviting house he lived in, with its white walls and small frame, almost too small to belong to a man this important…
And the back of his furious father, who slammed the door again, bringing Cavendish back to reality.
He wasn't in the future.
He was very unfortunately in the present.
"Balthazar, is that you, sweetie?", a voice called out from the kitchen.
As the voice walked in, it took the shape of a short and stout woman, whose heart was filled with kindness and gentleness.
She was wearing a bright orange blouse, a purple skirt and slip on shoes, and her soothing face was complimented with curly honey blonde hair that looked just like Cavendish's.
"Dinner should be almost…", she started, holding a spoon, which she ended up dropping onto the ground from surprise.
"Oh…", she exclaimed, an expression of… Disappointment? Fear? Resignation? Spreading on her face when the grown up Cavendish crossed her.
"You're back early."
But Chief Cavendish refused to even glance at her, instead dragging little Cavendish by the ear into his room.
"Dad, OW! Please stop…", Cavendish cried, but it fell onto deaf ears as Chief Cavendish opened his room's door, anger still engrossing his soul.
Cavendish's mother tried to stop the fight. "Let go of him this instant! I won't let you…"
But Chief Cavendish turned to her with such rage and intensity, with such madness in his eyes, that she knew she couldn't do a thing…
Lest he go so far as to cripple her.
So, to her massive regret, she stayed silent and ashamed as Chief Cavendish slammed the door behind him, leaving him with his heartbroken son who was tending to his ear.
Silence reigned and for a few moments, Cavendish wasn't sure what was supposed to happen.
Was he supposed to talk? Did Dad want to talk first? Was he supposed to apologize?
Cavendish gulped. He knew how his father could get when angered. It was best to apologize now before something happened.
Sitting on his small and incredibly uncomfortable looking bad, a small and incredibly uncomfortable Cavendish started to apologize.
"Dad…", he started, already feeling a dry and sticky sensation in his throat, the tears that were trapped in there poised for a comeback. "…I'm sorry I cut scho…"
"This isn't about cutting school.", Cavendish's Dad said sharply, towering over his boy as ever, a long and hard shadow cast over the cold and hungry boy.
He started to walk back to the door, almost as if he was leaving, but to Cavendish's misfortune, he stopped and stood with his back to the boy.
"…Dad, if it's about Oliver…"
"My son, the fruit. Didn't think I'd see the day.", the rage was somehow silent and barely concealed, fists clenched and shaking as he tried in vain to contain his anger.
Cavendish then made a huge mistake: He tried to correct his father.
"Well, actually, Dad, I'm Bi-sexual… I think… You see, I like both…"
The seething scream that erupted was one he didn't see coming. "SHUT THE FUCK UP, BOY!"
Chief Cavendish was flared up almost, his face almost red as he neared the boy, making him flinch.
"Look at you. The smallest hint of a threat, and you flinch like a fucking coward."
He raised his fist for a moment, making Cavendish cower some more, shaking now not just from the cold.
"I don't give a shit about your sexual orientation, boy."
Cavendish's father gripped him by the shoulders, his fingers pressing down, hurting his son.
"And I don't give a shit about cutting school, though both things are disgraces you have brought down on me!"
Cavendish tried not to cry, but tears were already running down.
He couldn't help it, he was a crier, always had been. Once something went wrong, the tear ducts would burst open, showing his face with droplets of pain.
"I'm sorry…"
A slap connected to his skin, ringing in his ears, leaving a bright red mark that stung as Cavendish tried to sooth it.
"You don't even fucking know what you're sorry for, boy!"
Cavendish's Father turned around, breathing heavily, rapidly.
"And stop fucking crying! You're supposed to be a man!"
Hot air bounded out of his mouth, and his veins throbbed wildly.
"I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times: You are supposed to be a man."
He kept his back to Cavendish, which only made the child even more tense: Was he calming down or not? Was it safe to calm down too or not?
"And you can't be a man if you tie yourself to other people."
Cavendish wasn't sure he understood. "…Um… I'm not sure I get what you…"
"LOVE, BOY! YOU CAN'T BE A MAN IF YOU LOVE!"
Cavendish's Father was almost swollen with rage, and Cavendish backed up in his bed, reaching the wall.
"Love is an illusion! A trick that turns us soft and weak! It blinds you from what's important!"
Cavendish wasn't sure he could take anymore of this, especially when his Father was so wrong.
"A man needs to look out for himself, Balthazar! A man needs to be strong, tough, invincible! Self sustaining! Standing alone against those who wish to harm him!"
Cavendish's Father was shouting fiercely, almost hoarse now. "A man doesn't need help or support! He does that himself!
"Who says?", Cavendish actually fought back, surprising even himself, and he immediately covered his mouth with his hands, but it was too late.
"Don't you FUCKING talk back to me, you little shit!", Cavendish's father bellowed again, another slap to poor Cavendish's face, who sniveled and sniffed.
"Stop. Crying.", he ordered again.
"I'm… I'm, I'm, I'm tr… Trying…", Cavendish forced between sobs.
"Look at you: You're a failure at school. Your physical grades are nothing short of embarrassing! You keep cutting school, you help your mother in the house when I'm gone, you let yourself get pushed around like some kind of baby!"
Cavendish's Father was boiling mad now.
"And now you're kissing your pansy friend!"
"So what? Oliver is my friend!", Cavendish shouted back, and Cavendish's Father responded by punching the door.
"Over my dead body he is!"
Finally turning after a few moments of silence, Cavendish's Father delivered him the ultimatum.
"Boy… You are supposed to be the best of the best! You are supposed to be the strongest in the room, always knowing better, always in charge. It is you who keeps your world from falling into madness. You and you alone are the master of your destiny. You can't be the man of your life if you stand down!"
"You're wrong! I'm not standing down! I want to work for B.O.T.T and save people, just like you do at work! I want to kill all the bad guys and be loved by all! I want to be a hero!"
Cavendish's Father was almost impressed with the commitment Cavendish had to who he was.
He turned with a terrifying scowl.
"…So… You think you know better, don't you? You think you know better than your old man?"
Cavendish was afraid of nodding, but…
"Answer me!"
He had to.
Cavendish's Father almost laughed, and it sent a chill down Cavendish's spine.
"Ok, boy. You know what? I'll give you a fighting chance. I did say I want you to stand up."
Suddenly, he raised his fists and with his eyes, invited Cavendish to come closer.
"…Hit me."
Cavendish gasped, shocked at the progression of events.
"What?", he asked, startled beyond belief.
The room suddenly grew very small, and all Cavendish could see was his fearsome Father call him up for a fight.
"Come on, you little worm! Hit me! Give me your best shot!"
Cavendish shook his head.
"You want to be a time traveller, no? You want to be your own man, no? To be with that pansy boy, no? You think I'm wrong, no?"
Cavendish had to nod again.
Cavendish's Father growled. "Then if that's what you believe in, hit me! Stop me from stopping you! Fight for what you believe in, even if it's misguided!"
Cavendish desperately wanted to.
He wanted to punish his Father for all those years of pain and suffering.
He stood up, his knees weak, his joints shaking wildly.
But his eyes were nearly rage filled as he thought of all the years of pain.
"That's it, boy, that's better! Now step up and fight me! Hurt me, like I deserve!"
As Cavendish walked up, still shaking like mad, he remembered all the punches and slaps, all the put downs and insults.
He remembered being called a disappointment in front of all of Dad's military friends.
He remembered being shouted at in front of his friends at school for failing the physical examinations.
He remembered being kicked and whacked and spat on and punched hundreds and thousands of times.
He could feel the small scars and wounds that covered his body inflame as he stepped up, ready to teach his Father a lesson.
"Come on, boy! Ready that fist! Hit me where it hurts!", Cavendish's Father cried, flames in his eyes as he finally saw what kind of man his son could be.
Cavendish wanted it so badly…
"Release your anger!"
Cavendish wanted it SO badly…
"DO IT!"
"I want it… SO badly…", Cavendish thought, his clenched fists almost raised, almost ready to connect with the man he hated so much.
"STAND UP FOR WHO YOU ARE!"
But…
But…
Despite all his hate for him, despite wanting to avenge all those years…
Cavendish just wasn't that kind of person.
All his talk of killing monsters and aliens, and Cavendish couldn't even hurt his bastard of a Father.
He just couldn't.
Cavendish slowly lowered his fists…
Tears ran down like a river…
And he apologized.
"…I'm sorry, Dad…"
He wiped his nose.
"…I'm sor…"
But he couldn't even finish that.
SMACK!
A hard as wood punch connected and Cavendish went flying, blood spurting out of his mouth as one of his teeth flew out into the air, his tiny body smashing into the wall, nearly making him faint.
His eyes were covered with spots, he felt nothing and everything, and his mouth was now filling with blood from the gaping hole in his teeth.
Cavendish's Father, merely wiping the blood of his own son on his trousers, walked up to him and viewed him with disgust and contempt.
"You can't even stand up for what's wrong.", he said, and he spat on him.
He turned around and began to leave, but not before leaving him with a final warning.
"You better fucking shape up, you little nothing. You better grow up and become a man…"
He turned to him with a serious frown, grave and devoid of all emotion.
"…Or you'll never be happy."
He left, but not before muttering "Goddamn disappointment…" as he closed the door and lumbered down the hall.
Cavendish's Mom, weeping next to the door, wanted to come in and comfort him.
But she knew that her… Husband would never let her.
She sighed morosely, feeling guilty as she returned to the kitchen.
She'd have to help her son tomorrow.
But even that would be too late…
Whimpering and sobbing into the night, Balthazar T. Cavendish, son of Balthazar Cavendish Sr. and Anita Cavendish, felt utterly lost and alone.
His cries were heard by no one but himself, as his pillow got covered in tears, blood still spewing slightly from his mouth, his whole self feeling dead in this wretched existence he called life.
"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…", he kept whispering between sobs, as he stood up and looked at his poster of Professor Time, even his warm and encouraging smile failing to reignite the hope in poor Cavendish's heart.
Cavendish at first wanted to fight back. He wanted to go back outside and show his Father what for.
But he knew now that he was nothing but a sniveling coward, a failure who couldn't even speak for himself.
Did that mean…
"Is Dad right?", Cavendish thought, asking Professor Time, but also himself. "Am I really just a disappointment?"
The poster didn't answer, but Cavendish did.
"I must be. I couldn't even hit him when I wanted to. And I wanted to so badly!"
Rage mixed in with the cries and Cavendish nearly growled.
"I wanted to bash his nose in, see if he likes it!"
Cavendish sighed, the darkened room closing in on him, no sounds heard but the rapid beating of his heart.
"But I couldn't."
Cavendish sniffed, feeling more tears come down. "He was right… I really am just a nothing. I'll never be a hero like you, Professor Time. I'm just a pansy weakling."
Cavendish was on his knees, almost apologizing to God. "I could never be as strong and tough and smart as Dad! I could never take charge! I could never kill any aliens or monsters or anything!"
He bowed his head down. "I'm no hero; I'm a failure."
"I'm…", he stuttered, feeling his heart hurt. "I'm not the son my Dad wants. I'm not a man."
But with this admission came an idea.
An idea that would forever change Cavendish's life…
But for the better, it was not.
"…But…", he started, eyes filling with hope as his mind worked over time.
"What if I was?"
He started talking quickly, the idea grabbing hold of his childlike excitement.
"What if I was the son my Dad wants? What if I was smart and tough and strong? What if I took charge, and thought I knew better, and didn't cry and stood tall?"
He posed on his bed, feeling a surge of energy like never before. "I'll show him! I'll be even tougher than him! Even manlier than him! I don't need anybody, not even Oliver!"
A hint of sadness was in his tone, but he was too far in now.
"Yes, yes! Dad would be so proud! I'd be alone and independent, facing swarms of enemies on my own, leaping into action without a single thought, always right, always good, never mocked and never loved, because they'd respect me! They have to!"
He almost shouted it out, proud of his discovery.
"I'm a man!"
He turned around, his heart swelling with pride and confidence as he looked at the "Join B.O.T.T." poster, shining like a beacon of hope against the terrible darkness of the night.
"I don't need other people! I have myself! I am Balthazar Cavendish, and I am the best in the world!"
He saluted the poster and felt tears come down, but now they were of joy and hope.
"You'll see, Dad…", he whispered, almost in a prayer, wiping the blood from his mouth.
"…I'll make you proud…"
The faint sound of music started, and "Let Me Make You Proud" by Jeremy Jordan began playing as 10 Year Old Cavendish strode around his bed, his cape now flowing instead of drooping.
10 Year Old Balthazar Cavendish:
Maybe I Make Things A Mess…
(Cavendish looked down, ashamed)
And Maybe You're Right To Have Doubts In Me…
(Cavendish looked at the door, cold and imposing, shutting him out)
Maybe, But Nevertheless…
(Cavendish looks at the door pleadingly, almost begging for a chance)
If You For Once Could Just Trust Me!
(Cavendish tightened his cape and stood tall, trying to feel manly)
Just This Once, Let Me Come Through For You…
(Cavendish saluted his not there Father, making a vow he will regret for the rest of his life)
The Way That You Want Me To…
(The scene suddenly changes, showing the next day as Cavendish obediently goes to boarding school, his eyes on the prize and on nothing else…)
(Not even Oliver, who bows his head, heartbroken)
Let Me Make You Proud!
(Cavendish sings aloud as he works his ass off on test after test, on improving his shape, though he never stops being thin as a stick, and on separating himself from all others, as he becomes more and more egotistical and over confident)
Let Me Show You The Best In Me!
(In a boxing match the school organizes, Cavendish must fight Ronald, the strong boy at school. Cavendish doesn't want to go all out, but his Father orders him too, and, all too eager to please, Cavendish beats the living snot out of Ronald, earning his Father's pride, but nothing else)
Let Me Give You A Reason To Believe That I Can Stand Tall!
(Cavendish sees Oliver's family move things into their car, preparing to leave the country for a better place)
(Oliver comes to say goodbye…)
(But under his Father's watchful eye, Cavendish ignores his old friend)
(Broken beyond repair, Oliver silently leaves with his family…)
(…Never to return)
(Cavendish smiles as Cavendish Sr. finally gives him a smile of approval, basking in his Father's glow)
(The scene suddenly changes, and years have passed)
(Balthazar Cavendish, now 20 years old, taller, leaner, thick eyebrows, his short, honey-blond hair with bangs that part in the middle and curve up at the sides, a deep-blue, futuristic-looking top that has a thick, olive green collar that extends down his chest with three dark circles presented vertically down the collar, long sleeves, with short secondary sleeves in the same olive green color, and two stripes at each wrist, with another around his waist like a belt. The main portion of the outfit extends behind him in a fashion reminiscent of coat-tails, and under this, he wears a pair of white pants tucked into a pair of knee-high black boots with grey cuffs)
(He is leaving to America to enroll as an intern and as a prospective member of the academy, and is on a pier, about to embark on a ship)
20 Year Old Balthazar Cavendish
And When I Return…
(Cavendish doesn't smile or hug or even shake his parent's hands. Instead, he just salutes with a serious face, grave and emotionless, as Cavendish Sr. nods proudly and decisively, and Anita Cavendish cries softly for her baby boy, who's changed, perhaps forever)
And I'm More Than You'd Dreamt I'd Be…
(Cavendish gets on the ship and, when he turns around, has a giddy smile, sure that he's on his way to being the man his father wants, and the hero he dreams of being)
(He pumps his fist, a picture of Oliver that he kept with him even through all those years floating away back to Cavendish Sr., who crushes it determindly)
Maybe Then You Will Realize That You Never Actually Knew Me At All!
(As an instrumental break plays, Cavendish arrives at Danville, in the year
2151
September 12
(Ready to apply for an internship and Academy training in The Bureau of Time Travel)
(Despite his new attitude, he can't help but marvel and gawk at the sights and sounds of the city, the incredibly clean air, sky high skyscrapers and golden monuments filling the horizon, a feeling of destiny rising in his chest)
(He enters the Bureau, walking on a marble floor, passing white walls, underneath a sky blue ceiling)
(After passing a group of school children who seemed a tad unruly, making him scoff, he finally managed to find a worker, who instructed him to keep going left until he reached the office of Ms. Barrier)
(As he did so, a funny looking Janitor with brown hair and a warm smile tipped his hat)
(Cavendish ignored him. He doubted he'd ever see him again)
(How wrong he was)
(After applying, we skip forwards and see ourselves in an Academy class, the polished egg shell white walls and sparkling white floors painting perhaps too pure an image)
(Cavendish and 19 other students, one of which was Brick, looking exactly the same as he would in 25 years, began their training, all holding blasters)
20 Year Old Balthazar Cavendish:
Sure I've Made Lots Of Mistakes…
(Cavendish's blaster keeps misfiring, and he almost shoots Brick's hair clean off, the tuxedo wearing young man now combing it back to perfection)
I Know That I've Disappointed You…
(Cavendish sighs and hangs his head low, feeling his Father's disapproval. He should be getting it right from the first try)
Still Though Whatever It Takes…
(Ms. Barrier steps in and orders him to focus and grasp the blaster properly, to just take the shot and care about the consequences later)
I'm Gonna Fix It, Just Watch Me!
(Cavendish nods and shoots properly at his target, a sort of coldness in his eyes that would struggle to leave for the next 25 years…)
23 Year Old Balthazar Cavendish:
Just You Wait…
(3 years later, Cavendish is still struggling, falling asleep on a written exam, feeling ashamed when called out)
27 Year Old Balthazar Cavendish:
I'll Make It Up To You…
(4 years later, Cavendish is still trying to graduate, reading book after book, when he spots a cat up a tree)
(He feels bad at first, but he has no time for such frivolities. So he ignores the cat, leaving it to suffer)
(His future is way more important that some kitty cat)
32 Year Old Balthazar Cavendish:
If It's The Last Thing I Ever Do!
(5 years later, Cavendish participates in a training simulation, and while his form needs work, Barrier nods approvingly at his no nonsense attitude, "Shoot first, ask questions later" philosophy and his heightened sense of importance, as he sneers at the newbie agents who do worse than him)
37 Year Old Balthazar Cavendish:
I Will Make You Proud…
(5 years later again, Cavendish is acing his tests and showing skill on the field. He's clearly made for smaller, nonsensical jobs, ones that require just following orders, but Barrier and Block agree that one day, he could be a fine asset, taking down those who don't cooperate and keeping them in power by feeling the need to lick their boots all the time)
(In other words, Cavendish is the perfect employee: Works like a dog, prepared to do anything, and blindly keeping them at the top)
I Will Make You Have Faith In Me…
(Cavendish writes home with pride and joy, reporting of his graduation, earning another proud answer from his Father)
(But a simulation goes awry: Cavendish is tasked with killing an obstacle, but he can't do it. He can barely muster a beatdown, as he feels that there is something… Wrong about that)
(His good side is still present, despite his best efforts)
(The 10 Year Old Boy with love in his heart isn't dead yet)
I Will Prove That The Way I Used To Be, Is All In The Past…
(Barrier wants to kick him out, but Block offers a solution: Give Cavendish a menial task anyone could perform, but something absolutely stupid. If he follows through and takes it seriously just for a little praise, he'd do anything!)
(And so…)
I Will Save The Day…
(After a test mission in 2009, Cavendish is summoned to Block's office to accept his new "mission")
(As Block cackles gleefully at the new slave he and the Bureau have acquired, a soldier who would do anything for them, and thus, the perfect pawn, Cavendish shakes hands with his partner: Vinnie Dakota)
And Come Back Here Triumphantly…
(But as Cavendish imagines a victorious return to home once he gets this stupid thing done, things don't go according to plan: The Pistachios vex him, and he fails time and time again, he grows more and more exasperated as even the simplest tasks become failures, thus making him a miserable shell of a man, and most importantly, Dakota begins to free Cavendish's true self, allowing him to be kind, caring and good again)
(And that is a problem)
'Cause I Long For That Look Of Surprise When You See Your Son Rising At Last…
(It's 7 years later and Cavendish has actually done it: He's fallen for a man. He's kissed a man. He's grown to care for others)
(And the guilt is eating away at him)
(What would Father say?)
(And now it's a year later, and Cavendish and Dakota are in a rough patch)
(And Dakota asks a question: Do You Love Me?)
The Pride In Your Eyes When You See Your Son Rising At Last!...
(And as the last note stretches and stretches, Cavendish's mind races with thoughts and lines, Dakota and his Father fighting for control of his heart):
"How DARE you, boy?!"
"I'll always be there for you, Cavendish!"
"You said you'd make me proud!"
"You don't HAVE to be a man, Cavendish!"
"I say how your story goes, boy!"
"You're free to make your own path!"
"You're soft! You're nothing! Just like I thought!"
"I love you, Balthy!"
But finally, it's his Father who wins:
"…I am disappointed in you, boy. But it's not too late… NOW MAKE. ME. PROUD! BE. A. MAN!"
And Cavendish answers Dakota's question:
"I DON'T KNOW!"
The music stops.
Dakota stands there, pain in his eyes.
Cavendish stands there, resignation in his.
"I… I don't know…"
Dakota leaves wordlessly, and Cavendish sees everything else leave wordlessly.
The kids he'd grown to care for.
The people he'd grown to care for.
The things he'd grown to care for.
All he has now is a blaster in his pocket and a hole in his heart.
All he can feel is pain.
All he is…
Is alone.
The scene shifts and we see Cavendish sit alone in the apartment, the lights off, darkness washing him over, the words "Make You Proud" playing over and over and over in a loop on the broken radio.
His knees are close together, his shivers introduce the cold breeze that has invaded the room, and his face is a portrait of utter loneliness.
Is this what Father meant?
Is this being a man was like?
Was this…
The right way?
Meanwhile…
OCTOBER 29TH, 2017, ABANDONED WAREHOUSE IN DANVILLE
"Norikoeru beki wa Satsugai Kyoufu" from Mirai Nikki (Future Diary) (11 minute version) starts playing, its threatening electronic beeps and boops, its artificial feelings echoing across the faces of the Seven Hearts Club.
These seven figures, clad in black, hoods over their faces, exchange looks, worried of the coming storm.
The first one, tall, thin, unsure, crossed its arms, conflicted.
"Tomorrow it's five days. Does he not need us to help him?"
A fact everyone knows all too well, but no one dares say that.
A second figure, also tall, but wider, burlier, well built and muscular, speaks next.
"Has he not suffered enough? He'd do the same if we were in this situation."
The first figure nods, wanting nothing more than to help the man who had helped them all so much.
A third figure, barrel chested and short, cuts the silence with its own argument.
"Help, shmelp! He is what we want, plain and simple: And when you want something, you take it. I propose we go NOW."
The third figures orders are countered by the fourth figure, a tall and well built individual, but with softer features than the second, who speaks surprisingly passionately, despite his usual… Seriousness.
"I disagree! What he needs is someone to save him from this terrible partner!"
The fifth figure, tall, dark, and mysterious, leaving almost no shadow, adds his part to the conversation.
"…Can we get to the part where I please him orally?"
The sixth figure, shivering in disgust and fear, thin, small and monotone, speaks with a great feeling of shame.
This figure was supposed to be good.
But it wasn't.
"…He's suffering. Should we not help?"
And then that's when the Seventh Shadowy Figure stepped in, his thunderous steps and inhuman voice spreading immediate fear and alarm in the six others.
"Oh… His suffering will be cut short."
His tone is near metallic, and his breath is cold, as is his whole body.
He shines in the darkness, but only his eyes and smile can be seen.
Red, blazing eyes shone from near the ceiling, that as how tall the thing was…
And a malicious, psychopathic, near murderous grin is etched across his face as he strokes the image of Dakota that hangs on the wall.
"Soon, Cavendish will be… Removed from the equation…"
"We will not kill him.", the six figures responded immediately, and the seventh merely chuckled.
"Oh, promises, promises…", The Seventh echoed, sending a chill down everyone's spines.
The Seventh stopped chuckling and with determination, removed Dakota's image, bouncing it lightly on his jerky digits and palm.
"Tomorrow… We strike. Tomorrow…"
He lowered his voice to a whisper, talking more to himself than to anyone.
Talking to the man of his past.
"…Vinnie Dakota… Is ours…"
The six others, hesitatingly, raised their fists in salute, and the Seventh lightly chuckled again as he clenched his fist, crushing the image.
"Who can POSSIBLY stop us? Stop me from getting you, Vinnie?"
And the last word was uttered, dripping like honey:
"Who?"
And as the music echoed out, Cavendish was seen again in his room, sighing.
"Well, Father… I did what you said. I cut everything off, and I became a man. Just like you wanted."
He sniffed.
"I hope you're proud…"
He choked on tears he had suppressed for so long.
"I just… I don't understand."
And finally, a tear fell, almost like a sliver of who Cavendish really is tried to sneak through the fake mask he had put on, as he asked a question that would change his life:
"Why am I not happy?"