Two weeks earlier
Ricky sat hunched over the small desk in his apartment – the position he was sitting in would make you assume he had a chiropractor on speed dial. During the entire three-day weekend he had barely moved, only leaving his sanctuary for the occasional food and pee break. It was all about to be worth it though – all the grueling months he spent working while his peers enjoyed a leisurely college life was finally paying off, and it was all thanks to the precious child in his hands. Of course, as the father he would have the honors of naming it.
"It needs to be cool, but like not too cool it's dumb," Ricky mumbled, walking circles around his twin-sized bed as he thought. Maybe something like-
"WATCH OUT FOR THE TAZE MASTER!" No… that wasn't it. He would look stupid pointing a weapon named the Taze Master at someone. He was nineteen okay, not five.
"Ughhh thinking... thinking…thinking… – OUCH!" His big toe slammed into a box that had been barely sticking out from underneath his bed. "How long has this been down here?" Ricky scratched his head, feeling like he'd remember putting a large metal box down there, though he wasn't the most organized.
"Well, a peak couldn't hurt." Curiosity got the better of him. He dragged the box out and dusted off the lid, paling after reading the name scratched into the metal. It was one he hadn't seen in a long time – Arnold Dagger. Startled, he pushed the box back under the bed and stood up, placing his hands on his hips as he assessed the situation.
How did this box end up in his room? Ricky knew he definitely wouldn't take a stupid bulky box with him to college, especially not one that belonged to that man.
"Dammit Mom," she probably left this in his room during her last visit instead of taking it to the dump where it could be with others of its kind.
"Mannn I don't want this garbage," Ricky grumbled kicking the box with the same foot he had stubbed a few minutes prior.
Znnkt
"Oh crap… What was that?"
Now, Ricky considered himself to be quite the manly man, especially when it came to keeping his cool in unsettling situations. However, the damn box was glowing blue and vibrating like it was alive or something. Nothing about this situation was normal!
Slightly panicking, he weighed his options:
Option one – throw it out the window and let someone else deal with it.
Opinion two – no touching the box and maybe it will stop glowing by morning.
Option three- open the box. His fingers twitched just thinking about it. He just had to know what was inside, even though every instinct in his body was screaming at him to leave it the hell alone.
"Just a little peak couldn't hurt," Ricky muttered as he inched towards the creepy box. It wasn't even that creepy if you really thought about it. Blue was his favorite color and everything, surely opening it wouldn't be a mistake. The boy tried to reassure himself he was making the right decision as his fingertips brushed against the latches and gently lifted them. He squinted his eyes shut before lifting the lid. He wasn't scared or anything, but he just didn't want to hurt his eyes. No other reason. This wasn't a mistake. Everything would be–
"Testing. One two. One two."
Ricky's heart skipped a beat. He would've recognized that monotone voice from anywhere. It was none other than Arnold Dagger, the man who had walked completely out of his life when Ricky was only six years old. The dad Ricky had spent years convincing himself wasn't even worth missing.
The voice crackled on. "Today is December 18, 2011 at 3:00am. Yesterday I found something while reviewing security footage from the lab. I can't be sure yet, but… I think I've finally found it. I'm making this log for future reference… just in case something happens. It seems the device is more powerful than I thought. I fear I'll run out of time."
The recording stuttered, static breaking up the silence like an unspoken warning. Ricky leaned in closer, barely breathing.
"I have to keep it hidden," the recording finally resumed. "If they find out… it's already too late."
"Too late for what old man!?" Ricky groaned, unsatisfied with the vagueness of his dad's words. What the hell had the man gotten himself mixed up in? Ricky bit at his nails – he already knew there was more to his dad than what first meets the eye. Hell, finding his dad's lab notes in fifth grade helped him to become the genius inventor he is today, though he'd never admit it out loud. Arnold Dagger was still a piece of shit for leaving him and his mom though.
The recording crackled again, pulling Ricky away from his thoughts. This time was different. His dad wasn't speaking – his breaths were so shallow it was almost like he was holding his breath.
"Where is he?" A low voice filled the eerie silence. The once shallow breaths grew heavy.
"End log."
The box clicked, but the blue light didn't flicker out. Ricky's room was silent again, except for the faint sound of his own breathing. He started at the box, half-expecting it to grow legs or something. But nothing happened.
"Well, that was… weird."
Ricky sat on his bed, rubbing his sore toe and trying to process what he'd just heard. This had to be some sort of prank, right? His dad had vanished years ago. That was the only thing Ricky knew for sure. But if this recording was real… maybe he didn't know anything at all. He chewed at his nails, unable to stop thinking about how his dad's voice sounded. Flat. Tired. Maybe even scared.
"What's that smell?" He glanced around his room, trying to spot the source, panicking when he noticed it was coming from the box.
"Ah hot," Ricky rushed over to the tape and scooped it up, wincing as it burned his hand. "Oh, this is so not exploding in my room."
Worried he didn't have much time, he grabbed a Pan-Take prototype from his dresser drawer, flung it at his window, and threw the weird smoking tape player out immediately after.
"And he makes the shot!" Ricky yelled as the tape player exited his apartment through the Pan-Take hole.
The Pan-Take was definitely among the top three inventions Ricky had made so far. It was compact, reminded him of pancakes, which Ricky loved, and allowed him to take things that weren't his. The only con was that you could only use them once. This wouldn't be the case for much longer though as he was in the works of making one that could handle multiple uses. After that, the only thing left to do is make them taste like real pancakes.
He flopped back onto his mattress, exhaling hard. Maybe he was overthinking everything. Maybe this was nothing.
Then – his phone rang
Ricky jumped. Who the hell was calling him this late? It wasn't like he had many friends.
He hesitated, then picked up "...Who is this?"
His blood boiled when a familiar voice hummed through the speaker.
"Oh, come on Ricky. That's no way to greet a friend."
Ricky sat up fast. "You?! How the hell did you get my number?"
The man chuckled on the other end. "It wasn't too hard to find."
"That's not an answer you freak." Ricky ran to the window looking for the man's cocky face. Unfortunately, the only people out now were two middle-aged men who appeared to have gone drinking after work.
The man ignored his question. "You sound out of breath. What were you up to?"
Ricky swallowed. "None of your business." There was something all too knowing about the man's voice. Like he already had an answer. Ricky narrowed his eyes. He's messing with me.
"I don't have time for you right now," Ricky muttered angrily, moving to hang up. But just before he could the man's voice became more serious – low enough to make the hairs on Ricky's neck stand up.
"Be careful Ricky See you in class tomorrow."
Ricky pulled the phone away from his ear, looking at it with a perplexed expression. "What the hell was that all about?"
Just then, a voice from outside snapped him back to reality.
"Woah is that a real diamond?"
Ricky turned his head toward the window. A man's voice drifted up from below. Though the guy hadn't said it loud, Ricky could still hear him perfectly.
"Damn Pan-take hole."
The process of fixing a Pan-Take hole was quite tedious, as you had to stick another Pan-Take exactly on top of the one he had placed earlier, and he meant exactly. Thankfully, once he managed to do that, the hole went away. He really needed to come up with a better way of sealing up these things.
Ricky walked over to his window to begin the grueling task of trying to line up the Pan-Take's perfectly, procrastinating a bit, he took another look at the men who had supposedly found a diamond. As far as he could tell from his room, it was a little blue gem in a brown box, which seemed legit. Ricky was somewhat jealous he hadn't been the one to find it. It's not every day you find a diamond lying in the road…
"Oh God dammit." Ricky pinched the bridge of his nose upon his sudden realization. That was definitely the tape recorder he had thrown out the window, and that little blue diamond was probably the thing his dad had been tweaking out over. He glanced over at his desk where his child lay sleeping and smirked. At least he would now have the opportunity to test out the Taze Master. Wait! No, the KILLER TASER 3000…
That also sucked… somehow more than the first name. Oh well, he didn't need a name to take it for a little test run. He was a bit antsy about testing his new toy on people super close to his apartment, as it definitely would increase his chances of getting caught by someone he knew. Usually if he was going to have fun like this he'd go to the inner city late at night. It was night right now though, so he was practically doing the same thing – just right outside of his apartment.
Feeling more comfortable after reasoning with himself a bit, Ricky came to the reasonable conclusion that there was no other option than to use the TAZE DADDY…
That wasn't going to work either.