Danti One Shots

·Mysterious· (Pt. One)

Goodness, I'm so so sorry that I was gone for so long!

It's dark. The room is humid and empty, all except for the man that is huddled in the corner. Perspiration gathers on his chapped upper lip. It itches. But he doesn't move. Moving agrivates the voices.

He doesn't know how he had gotten here. He doesn't remember anything previous of sitting in the lonely room. All he knows is that his name is Anti. Printed on the tag of the shirt he was provided with.

There was a bed in the corner of the room. He had come to terms with it being too uncomfortable to sleep in. The room itself was uncomfortable.

He hated it most when the light would go out though. When the yellowed bulb hanging in the middle of the ceiling would shut off. He would hear the voices. Either caught up in heated arguments, begging for something, or whispering insulting or obscene things.

Sometimes the voices would get to be too much and he would bang his head against the wall. Sometimes even go to the red door in the corner and pound his fists on it until he bled. But there was a voice that saved him from hurting himself further. It was warm and comforting. Unlike the other voices, which were cruel and cut deep.

This voice though gave Anti memories, of which he didn't know he had. The voice reminded him of sitting in a forest as a fire crackled beside him. Or standing in an open field as the soft rain fell against his face. Another memory the voice gave him was holding the hand of someone dear to him. A little girl with bright green eyes, and if the light caught them just right, they'd turn gold.

There was one more fragment to add. One much more intimate. Staring into dark crimson eyes that would have scared anyone else, but comforted him. But then the voice would disappear when he got drowsy. The red door would change to steel once the light turned back on. The memories just a tiny voice in his mind amongst a hurricane.

The experiments came when the light turned back on. There was a small speaker in the corner that spoke. It wasn't like him, Anti thought. When he spoke, it was fluid, and had emotion to it. When this voice crackled through the speaker though, it was the opposite. Not alive.

The speaker would pound at his eardrums as it spoke.

"Grab the ball. Throw it against the wall."

A hole in the wall opened, dispensing a bright yellow ball. So Anti picked it up in his hands. The tips of his finger were raw from being chewed and picked at. Bandages went across his knuckles from when the voices were too loud. A plastic man would come in through the steel door and clean the blood. Then leave. Without a word to determine the plastic man was alive or not.

Anti tossed the ball. He winced when it hit the wall. The 'pong' was far too loud. The hole in the wall then dispensed a round, sweet, disc. The voice from the speaker called it a cookie. He got one whenever he performed an experiment correctly.

"Good job. Eat the cookie."

Anti looked down at his body. An orange jumpsuit with a t-shirt and underwear underneath. Once in a while the plastic man would come in and turn a hose in him. The water was always so cold. Frigid. It hurt, so much. The voice in the speaker said it was to make him clean. The plastic man would then lay a pair of fresh clothes on the bed and leave. He would be shaking as he stripped of his wet clothes and place them at the door, as the voice directed. "It feels nice at least to have fresh clothes." He would always whisper to himself. When the light turned off, there would be the sound of a swoosh. The soaked garments wouldn't be there when the light came back on.

The voice in the speaker was much louder this time when it spoke. It snapped him out of his trance.

"EAT."

So Anti scrambled to the hole to grab the cookie and shoved it in his mouth to appease the voice. The cookie was always so dry and stale. It made him cough. He would repeat the experiments the voice told him to do again and again until the hole dispensed a plastic bottle of water for him to guzzle. The voice would direct him to put it at the door once he was done. Then the light went off.

***

Nothing was different this time. The voice crackled just as it had done so many times before. Directing Anti to pick up the ball. He sighed and picked it up. The voice then told him to throw it against the floor. And so he did. The ball bounced back into the air, then fell back down. Bouncing until it came to a standstill. Anti watched as it did so. The voice dryly congratulated him and dispensed a cookie. Anti reached down to grab it. Then he stopped. The warm voice was back again.

Which was strange, the warm voice only came when the light was off.

Leave the cookie. Pick up the ball.

Anti visibly gulped and curled his fingers, abandoning the cookie and going to pick up the ball.

Very good! Now throw it at the speaker.

He stilled. He had never done that. What would happen? Would the plastic man come back and hurt him?

Trust me, dear. I won't let the man get you.

He looked down at the ball before cocking his hand back. With a huff, he threw it at the speaker.

"First warning; do not attack the speaker."

Anti chuckled. It felt good to disobey the voice.

Again. Throw it harder this time.

He took the ball and threw it again, this time stumbling a little from how much force he put into it. The speaker shook from the impact.

"Warning two; do not attack the speaker."

Throw it again with all your might.

So Anti did, laughing in excitement as he did so.

"Final warning; do not attack the speaker. Go to your bed and sit, or else security will..."

He stopped listening to the speaker and tuned in on what the warm voice was saying.

Don't go to your bed. Yell. Scream. Jump up and down.

"Fuck you! I don't have to do another motherfucking thing you say!" Anti yelled. He picked up the ball and threw it across the room. He kicked his bed over and jumped on it, cracking the frame. A red light blinked above the speaker.

"You violated the code. Security is being sent to your room."

Anti stopped jumping. "Oh shit..." Had the warm voice tricked him?

No, trust me. Be waiting at the door. I'll be there in a few minutes.

Be there? Was the voice a person?

Anti stepped off the remains of his bed and went to the door. He hoped to whatever god there may be that the warm voice wasn't tricking him.

After a minute or two, someone pounded on the door. Not even a second later did it open up to reveal a plastic man. Anti backed up a few steps, raising his arms in front of himself. The plastic man took slow steps towards him, gently grabbing his arm. "It's me, Anti. Now c'mon, we're getting out of here." Anti gasped. It was the warm voice. The warm voice led Anti out the door and into a tiled hallway. Bright lights shone from above.

He shielded his eyes, for they were used to the dim lighting of the room. The tiled floor shined. It was all so clean, a drastic change from the dirty area he had been living in before.

The warm voice went to stand behind Anti, clasping plastic covered hands around his wrists. The warm voice pushed him farther, decending into the bright hall.

To be Continued...