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A few days passed , Dark had written a portion of his article but needed more. He leaned against the outside wall of the hospital, a ciggerate between his lips as he let the smoke fall in tendrils, wrapping around the air before leaving. He put the butt out with the heel of his boot as he dropped it to the ground.
He walked in, the nurse, Jacy, greeted him with a smile, "You can't talk to Andrew-"
"He prefers Anti," Dark muttered, the nurse nodding softly,
"-Anti, then, he's in a group therapy, I have another patient you could talk too, his name is Wilford, his rooms right down the hall, 232," Dark nodded, taking the file handed to him, head tilting in confusion.
"Theres nothing on this file,"
"Wilfords a...peculiar case, you're understand once you talk to him," Jacy tucked a strand of the firey red hair back behind her ear.
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Dark knocked on the door, flinching when he heard the sudden shout of "Bang, bang!!" He slowly opened the door, seeing a tall and muscular man sitting against the wall, hand extended and fingers pointed in a gun shape at the door, seeing Dark he repeated 'Bang bang!' 'shooting' him repeatdly, before dropping.
"Damn, it didn't work," Wilford grumbled, a heavy slur in his voice, words meshing together in a strange mixture of accents.
"Good morning, I'm Dark and-"
"Another doctor?"
"Nono, I'm a journalist, a few days ago I interviewed Anti," A sound of disgust left Wilford. "Who I assume you know...I was wondering if I could ask a few questions,"
Wilford really was a character, with a fake pink mustached attached to his upper lip and exagrrated movements, none the less he caused a smile from Dark.
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An hour or two passed before Jacy walked by, knocking on the open door, "Sorry to interrupt but you guys are free to come to the commen room now ," Wilford shot up, smiling.
"Ooo, you can play checkers with me, Darky-poo!" He helped the smaller individual up, taking him to the commens.
There were a few couches , a moderated t.v. with a rug and several games and books. A few tables and chairs as well.
Anti sat a table, carefully setting up a game of chess. He was relieved of the straitjacket now, in a black t-shirt that hung off him. He may have been tall but he lacked any meat , arms extermly small and skinny , bones promient. His natural crazed look was distracted from the simplicty of setting up the pieces.
His hair was signifigantly less green and spiked up and messy , it hasn't been washed in a while and looked as if it had been tousled and pulled at.
He looked up , about to shout at Wilford before pausing , mouth agape as he watched Dark. "Wil , you see him?"
"Darkie-poo? Of course!" Wilford hugged Dark, almost sending the smaller to the ground as he leaned against him.
Anti grinned, giggling and waving, showing multiple jagged scars all over his arms. "Lookie! No more straitjacket! Hey , Darkie , why don't you play checkers with me?"
He was overly excited by the other returning , he was desprate for attention.
"I'll gladly play both of you," Dark hummed, pulling up a third chair. "Why don't you two play first and I'll play the winner?" Wilford sat nodding.
"Fine then!"
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