ONE
More often than not, people like Patrick Danville are drawn into bad situations by the work of ka, or Gan, or maybe just the evil of the Red King himself. However, he was no longer afraid, even without a tongue. He was gaining muscle, and he had laid eyes on the Dark Tower, and seeing such a lovely thing would certainly banish almost all his fear of the world, at least for the time being. Nevertheless, O Discordia... the game was not yet over. Unanswered questions. Things came to Patrick in his dreams that he drew- one of Roland bent and sobbing by Susannah, others of a door marked ROLAND. Some of an old man sitting in complete darkness, being tortured by the very words of a slick man in a black suit (can you say Gawd). This intrigued the tongueless boy, wondering what exactly happened after Suze left- after Roland walked through the gargantuan doors of the Dark Tower itself.
He did not want to concern himself with such things- he was free of Dandelo and he had his pencils, and his pad, and sharpeners as well as erasers. The memories of being locked in that cage were fading from his everyday mind, and he felt stronger. His goose egg muscles had grown stronger (like Eddie's junkie arms, over time) and by the time he reached the diverging Odd's Lane and Tower Road, he went in the ramshackle hut and spat all over the things Dandelo previously owned. After that was over, he spent a night sleeping in the road (along with some of Stuttering Bill's equipment, for he had everything needed for survival down at his matinence outpost). He would not dare sleep in the Joe Collins that was residence... for it would give him nightmares. Though now not of afraid of many things, the fear of Dandelo still hung in the fifteen-year-old boy's mind. It would fade eventually, he was sure, but he didn't know exactly when.
TWO
At the moment, Patrick Danville sat at the edge of Fedic, eating what Roland would have called tooter fish, and he shivered from the endless cold, besides the fact that his gunna was almost completely wiped out. Even though Patrick knew there was food, he surmised that the journey to the Callas might be a hard one. Besides, he'd been along this route more than a couple times.
THREE
Patrick Danville sits in the back of a van in the year of 1999, and he is shitscared of what is happening. Even after that horrible incident at the Civic Center those years ago? He asks himself. Yes, yes it is. Because his mother is dead and his father is dead and his family is gone and Richard Sayre is looking at him. Oh, lord god in heaven he's looking at him, and it feels like he's been cut with a knife. He has neither pad nor pencil, and he shifts uneasily in his seat with nothing in his hands. He needs something to grasp. Even a pen without any fucking paper will do. Oh, Jesus H. Christ Sayre is looking at him and he's smiling his evil fucking smile as he rides towards his may have his tongue to scream humanly this time around, but he does not use it, for he is too nervous. He knows these are the Low Men, the Can-Toi, for he has drawn them out of the dreams he's had. He has somewhat of an idea where he's going but he doesn't know for sure. They've been drving for hours and the sleek black van is windowless. Moreover, Sayre keeps looking. The month and date is January 19, 1999, only months before the assult on the Dixie Pig, where he is headed at the moment. There, they will take him through the god-awful (and already malfunctioning) door to Fedic where he vomits on the ground and gets shipped off to blue heaven, where he breaks. Even though he has other powers contrary, he is still considered a precog and breaks for what seems like monthes before he makes his escape.
Before then, Patrick had also made various paintings for Sayre and others, mostly ones showing the triumph of the King or the Dark Tower or some other shit. And he breaks, and breaks, and breaks... until Brautigan escapes. Brautigan has no idea who Patrick is, nor has he noticed him sketching even more lovely pictures in the corner of the study all those monthes. When Brautigan slips out, Sayre goes out and so does Pimli Prentiss. Only the Weasel remains. Patrick draws for a full hour a picture of Finli O' Tego with a beautiful Taheen female weasel, one the Finli would fall head over heels for, staring at it for hours on end. Sadly, drawing for a man as evil as Finli would not bring the drawing to life. Then, the psychic he was, Sheemie came to him, and teleported him out. Without much talk, either. Sheemie could read Danville's emotions and there wasn't much time, anyway. Sheemie had teleported him to Fedic, and Patrick continued on Badlands avenue until he came to the Castle of The Crimson King.
After that, Patrick Danville remembers little. The first memory he can muster from the depths of his mind is being shoved into the cage by Dandelo, covered in snow. Dandelo appears to him as the monster he really is- because boy, Dandelo be a-hungry like Mordred be a-hungry, and Dandelo has been dying of hunger the past month and he needs his nutrition. He feeds on Patrick's fear, directly after taking his pad and pencils (Patrick to this day still did not know how Joe Collins that was knew of his powers) and Patrick grows thinner and thinner. He soon loses some of his intelligence and free will as he slowly dies down there, talent wasted, mind slowly going each time Dandelo sucks the life out of him. Them, after what Patrick judged was four weeks Dandelo gets tired of his yelling and yanks on his tongue. This is Dandelo's first attempt, which only loosens the muscle. It swells in Patrick's motuh and he yells more. The next day, Dandelo comes and yanks harder this time, and his tongue is out- only hanging by a few tendons when the second tug came. His mouth bled for hours, creating blood stains on the floor that Dandelo forced him to clean up himself. And then, Patrick Danville gave up hope. It could have been years that he'd been down there- Patrick didn't entirly know. But there was a greasy stubble of a beard and goatee forming, so some time had to have passed. Then, boom- regains his humanity. He regains his knowledge... and he draws every day. He draws every day not knowing that the man and woman who saved his life are each in grave danger.
Because the game ain't quite over yet.
FOUR
Stuttering Bill had wanted to come with Patrick back to Fedic, making an excuse that he wanted to "F-f-fix the B-b-b-broken doooorrrsss." Patrick knew gravely in his heart that Bill was becoming more human then ever. And, it seemed, that his stutter could never be fixed. Whatever was wrong with him went all out of wack again, it seemed, and there was no turning back.
Stuttering Bill shorted out and died on the way to Fedic.
Patrick, suprisingly, buried the robot, as well as cried a little.
Say sorry.