Chapter One

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Wilford Warstache Point of View:

I sat in the corner of the room, my legs crossed. My focus was cleaning my little gun, slowly polishing it's golden surface. Its been a while since it was used, but even still, it can get finger prints on it. I ignored Dark, who was mumbling something to himself and pacing, obviously deep in thought. He hated being cooped up in rooms, and honestly? I feel the same, but at least I keep myself busy and not worry too much about it.

Mark was recording some sort of game for all of his fans, and while he's recording, Dark and I must stay in our room. We're a secret-a really big one to Mark-and even though most of his fans know about us, he doesn't want there to be real proof. I don't see the problem, we're good people!

I grinned to myself at that thought. Well, this gun was proof that that was not the case.

"What are you smiling about, Wilford?"

I looked up, pausing with my polishing. Dark was watching me, his black eyes searching, and his marble-grey hands twitching with impatience.

I scowled. "It has nothing to do with you, Dark."

He watched me for a minute more, eyes following my hands as they cleaned the weapon. "I have a plan."

I sighed, but returned my attention to Dark. "Do you now? Would you mind telling me what for?"

Dark stepped forward, then leaned down close to my face. I didn't move, didn't flinch away, though I wanted to. Personal space, as I would have liked to say.

"To get out of here. To see the world for real. I'm tired of being holed up, and I know you are," Dark grinned. "I need your help with this."

I smiled. "Let's get started."

(Y/N) Point of View:

I got back from school, my head ready to split open from the headache I've had since lunch. Quickly, I stepped inside my house, and made my way to the bathroom. I grabbed a bottle of Tylenol, popped one in, and swallowed it dry. Looking in the mirror, I studied my features. (H/L), (H/C) hair was slightly tangled. I had walked home from school, and the fall wind was picking up. My (E/C) eyes were narrowed into slits, the light in the bathroom almost too bright for my headache. Sighing, I left the room, and went to my room.

Throwing my bag into the corner, I collapsed on my bed, kicking my shoes off. I sighed, then closed my eyes, and fell asleep.

Wilford Warfstache Point of View:

Well, Dark's plan worked. Right after Mark was done with recording, he went to our room-like always- and opened the door. I hid right behind the door, and waited for Mark to enter and talk to Dark. Raising my gun, I shot him in the side. He yelled, then fell, clutching his side which was becoming soaked in his blood.

"Wilford!"

"Sorry, Mark. It was an accident, I swear~!" I tucked the gun away, and shrugged my shoulders.

Dark laughed darkly, then ran out, I followed close behind.

"Get back here, guys," Mark screamed.

We left into the night, going our separate ways without a word.

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