Takes place on Dwayne’s property, not far from his house.
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-Takes place on Christmas Eve
6 weeks prior to the end, Dwayne snoops through Randal’s room. He finds a box under Randal’s bed full of pictures and a yearbook from his childhood, obviously all pre-transition. Randal still hasn't officially told Dwayne that he is transgender, its his secret. In the yearbook there is an entire page dedicated to the middle school’s theater productions, front and center is a picture of Randal playing Peter Pan in a play.
Weeks later, Dwayne brings this up to Randal. Although it's a bit awkward between them, Randal knows Dwayne has no one else to spend Christmas Eve with. It's the least he can do as his friend. After grabbing a mug of hot chocolate, Randal slumps down on the couch and starts sighing about his job and how shitty it is being an adult, Dwayne jokingly asks Randal if he’s still in character all these years. Confused, Randal asks what he means. “Peter Pan, remember?” A fatal mistake, those three stupid words. That one question makes Randal realize everything all at once. There was no way Dwayne could have known that, Randal has never told anyone, he was sure of it. All of the dots connect for Randal; the broken glass on the floor underneath the window, the odd behavior, the meowing outside his house, seeing Dwayne around town where he shouldn't be, and many more odd occurrences.
Randal is terrified but he tries to keep his cool in front of Dwayne, his new biggest fear. He tells him that he forgot he has plans and that he has to leave right now. Dwayne finds this suspicious but leaves, he would never go against Randal’s wishes. Randal locks all his doors and windows, closing the blinds and frantically running around trying to think of what to do first. He can barely think, so many thoughts and fears running through his mind. He wants to kill Dwayne but also wants to hide from him and run away. He runs to his kitchen to look for some sort of weapon he can use in case things get messy, meanwhile Dwayne puts his face up to the window and realizes exactly what’s happening. He’s said too much, the one thing he tried to not do. He’s really fucked up this time. Dwayne knocks on Randal’s door, kindly asking to be let back in, a voice he has basically never used. This is somehow more horrifying than if he was yelling. His voice is trembling, it sounds like a whisper. He’s trying his best not to breakdown, there’s still a chance Randal might open the door. Randal doesn't open up. Maybe he didn't hear? He knocks harder, harder, harder until he’s pounding both of his fists on the door. Inside, Randal is covering his ears, facing the door with his eyes wide and mouth agape, the pounding and the tinny tune playing in his head is too much to bare. Dwayne’s booming voice is making his head rattle. He reaches to grab a small paring knife, not looking away from the door, but Dwayne suddenly screams Randal’s name at the top of his lungs. He sounds like a wild animal. Randal whips around away from the door and runs to his bedroom, totally forgetting about the knife. Suddenly the house stops shaking, the pounding pauses, everything is quiet.
BOOM. The walls shake and the door creaks, a hinge flies off with such force it lands halfway across the room. Dwayne had thrown himself against the door, trying to break it open. Fuck. Randal runs to his bedroom to pick up the landline, he can trust the police, right? He’s able to type in 9 before he drops the phone, his hands are shaky and sweaty. He pushes this off and decides that calling on his flip phone would be the better option, in case he has to run. Everything gets quiet again, maybe Dwayne left?
Dwayne runs around to the back of Randal’s house, he knows there’s an opening in-between wooden panels. He just has to move some things around, it’s not like he hasn't done it before. While turning around to get his handheld phone, Randal accidentally kicks the landline under his bed. Now he really has to find his damn phone. He always misplaces it. Meanwhile, Dwayne is squeezing into crevices and crannies to get inside Randal’s house. He shimmies into Randal’s closet, perfect. He has a clear view of Randal. He looks so scared, so desperate to stop whatever is going on. It’s kind of funny in some sick, twisted way.
Dwayne has been carrying around a small vile of chloroform wrapped in tinfoil and a yellow handkerchief for the past week. I mean, he’s been planning this for weeks. He could tell the relationship between him and Randal was becoming worse, he had to end it soon. He pats his right pocket to make sure the substance is still in there. Reaching inside his left pocket, he pulls out the glasses he retrieved from a drawer in Randal’s bureau a few days ago and puts them on. He takes out the small vile and handkerchief and pours a good amount of chloroform on to the yellow fabric. Randal has his back to the closet, he’s on all fours looking under a table, maybe he dropped his phone earlier? This was the perfect time to strike, so that’s exactly what he did. Dwayne burst out of the closet, screaming, and got on top of Randal, wrapping his arm around his neck and holding the handkerchief against his nose and mouth. Randal screams and struggles, reaching behind and yanking Dwayne’s hair, hitting his glasses off and kicking his legs. Dwayne flips them both over wraps a leg around Randal’s waist to hold him against his body. Chloroform takes 5 minutes to take effect, this has only been 10 seconds. Dwayne expected Randal to be unconscious upon breathing it in, he was very wrong.
Randal digs his nails in to Dwayne’s arm, he grunts pitifully in response. Randal’s screams and sobs are muffled through the soaked handkerchief. He won’t stop though, he keeps writhing and wriggling, kicking the air. Arching his back and trying to roll away. But Dwayne has a firm grip on him, hes groaning and breathing heavier than he ever has before. It’s not that he hasn't done this before, he’s done it many times, just not with Randal. He wants to stop and apologize, but he also wants to carry out his plan. Dwayne’s right arm tightens around Randal’s neck, holding him in a choke-hold so he can’t whip his head around. Randal reaches behind, feeling around Dwayne’s face. It’s wet. It’s wet and hot. Cold. Why is one part cold? His piercing, that’s it. Randal digs his fingers in to the skin around Dwayne’s right snakebite and wraps them around it. His fingers slip off once or twice, the clamminess of his hands mixed with Dwayne's sweat and drool creating a slippery surface. Once he gets a firm hold on it, he pulls as hard as he possibly can, yanking out the metal plug. He hears a squelching ripping noise as a thin stream blood squirts out from behind his head. Dwayne yelps in pain, but tightens his grip on Randal, his nails digging into Randal’s cheek to keep the yellow handkerchief in place. Randal is holding the bloody piercing, he tightens his grip on it as his eyes get heavy. He’s still writhing around but not as much, the chloroform is kicking in. He can feel his body getting heavy and his head gains 20 pounds. Fighting until the last second, he passes out. Dwayne shimmies out from under him and catches his breath. He opens a junk drawer and grabs grey ducktape, thank God he knows the ins and outs of Randal’s house. He securely tapes the handkerchief to Randal’s nose, leaving his mouth exposed. Dwayne takes a mental note to take it off once they get halfway to the forest, he doesn't want to mess up his brain or anything like that. At least, not on purpose.
Dwayne takes a second to gather himself. He grabs his glasses that were flung across the room and puts them on. His lower lip is throbbing, he knew he should’ve returned that piercing. It had an extra glop of metal on the back, it felt sharp to the touch but Dwayne assumed it would be fine. And well, he wasn’t expecting it to be ripped out of his face like that. After brushing himself off, he hoists up Randal and puts him over his shoulder effortlessly. He walks outside and lays him down in the backseat of his car, making sure he’s laying comfortably. Spreading a large blanket over him, and tucking him in just a little, Dwayne hops in the driver’s seat and makes his way to his house, taking in what he thinks will be his last living moments. He turns on his radio, and his ‘dwayne greatest hits’ CD begins to play. Ironically enough, it begins to play ‘The End’ by Blur. He can’t help but glance back at Randal; not out of fear of him waking up, but out of sadness that it really IS the end for them, isn’t it?
Upon arriving at his house, he drives his car in to the forest as far as it will go before the trees become too dense. The ground is lightly dusted with snow, it would turn out to be a beautiful Christmas eve, despite the events that would soon transpire in these woods. He lifts Randal up, the handkerchief now tossed aside, and carries him once again, over his shoulder. After a half mile, Dwayne puts Randal on the ground to drag him instead. His shoulder hurts and he’s beginning to feel weak, a rare feeling for him. Randal starts coming to. He mumbles and groggily, and slowly looks around. Everything is fuzzy. Before Randal can fully realize what’s going on, Dwayne panics seeing him stir, and grabs a medium-sized rock with a jagged edge. He hits Randal on the right side of his head, just above his forehead. This knocks out Randal for a few more minutes, just enough time to make it to their destination. With blood dripping down his face, Randal is dragged over sharp rocks and roots. His back and arms are covered in long scratches and dirt. Some of these draw blood. The blood pouring from his wound is freezing on his face in the 28⁰ weather, which closes the wound temporarily. One mile later, they reach a deep hole in the ground surrounded by clovers and flowers. There are about 20 similar-sized patches of dirt, they look like holes that have been filled up. Each one has a small rock at one end.
Now all Dwayne has to do is wait for Randal to come to. He squats next to him and holds his face up off of the muddy earth, watching as he sleeps peacefully. Dwayne repeats his speech in his head, he has it memorized just for Randal. Just for this very special day.
When Randal comes to, his face is wet, and cold. Blood? His blood?? Both his and Dwayne’s blood decorate his shirt, now mixed together. His pajama pants are high on his waist from being dragged and everything hurts. He's shivering both from fear, adrenaline, and cold air, crystalized lines running down his cheeks from his tears. Blood is rushing in his ears, blocking most of his hearing, yet he can still hear that faint tune chiming in his head. His thoughts are hazy and his eyes are misty, he looks up and sees a tall figure looming over him.
After Dwayne’s monologue, he looks at Randal the same way he had looked at him in Randal’s dream, his green hair disheveled, blood running down his chin from the ripped flesh where his piercing used to be, the blood stained shirt. This snaps Randal out of his paralyzing haze and without thinking, he finds the strength to get up and run away. Although he isn’t able to run very fast, he makes it a good distance away before Dwayne even realizes he’s gone. Dwayne is so lost in his own thoughts and the excitement that it takes him a few seconds to realize. Dwayne somewhat slowly jogs after him, knowing Randal is too weak to run for very long. He’s having a little bit of fun. Randal keeps running, he’s stumbling and tripping, he even falls down a few times. He trips over a large tree root and puts his arms out in front of him to catch his fall, a large pointy stick pierces the middle of his palm as a rock scoops out a chunk of flesh in the other palm. With both palms torn up and bleeding, he gets back up and keeps running. The pain doesn't seem to bother him much, the adrenaline is helping with this. He's running slower now, dwindling to a slow jog. Just as Dwayne expected. He’ll catch him in no time. Looking behind, Randal sees how close Dwayne is. His face gets hot and panic starts to rise, he gets a sudden boost of strength and starts running faster. Realizing this, Dwayne starts running too. He can’t let Randal get away, that just will not do. After running for only 30 seconds, Dwayne trips over a tree root and falls face first in to the dirt, a sad ‘whoop’ leaving his mouth. Too mentally and physically drained to get back up, he stays there. He accepts his loss, his failure. More tears stream, a sob rising in his throat. Randal keeps running for about 3 miles until he reaches a gas station, his adrenaline keeping him going. He doesn't feel the pain anymore, he isn't tired, he can only run. He runs in to a gas station, heads straight for the bathroom, ignoring the worker that tries to get his attention, and catches his breath in between sobs and screams. He’s covered in dirt and the mixed blood. The gas station worker follows him in to the bathroom shortly after to make sure hes not crazy or on drugs. Too hysterical, Randal never ends up telling him what happened in the forest. The worker isn’t going to press it. The gas station worker locks up shop, and drives Randal to a bus stop after he drinks some water and calms down (night shift, not much to do). Randal gets on the bus and arrives back home. He feels numb and empty, his head is pounding and he smells of dirt, sweat, and blood. As soon as Randal gets home he sits on the couch and stares at the wall, he cannot stay here tonight. He calls Lana and begs her to pick him up, he doesn't say why. Lana agrees even though its 2am, Randal stays at her apartment for 2 days and 1 night. He is taken care of by Aurora and Lana, his wounds are cleaned and he is comforted. Aurora keeps her distance, she has a feeling she knows exactly what happened, but for some reason doesn’t feel the need to ask, and never does.
Randal thinks Dwayne is dead, super super dead. He isn’t.