Dick's eyes opened to darkness. He shuffled for a second, quickly realizing he wasn’t in the apartment. He looked around, unsure of why he wasn’t in bed right now. Richard was pretty particular about sleeping in bed at night so it was odd to wake up outside of one, especially on the ground at that. With a quick scan, Dick found that the darkness wasn’t completely pitch black; there were some dull lights off in the distance. The air around him felt stagnant, not even a hint of wind or fresh air, smelling heavily of dirt. Dick rubbed his eyes, hoping they would adjust better.

  “What the hell is going on?” He said, sleep still hazing his thoughts.

  Something dropped on his shoulder. He felt it, rubbing it between his fingers and even took a whiff. “Yep, that’s dirt.” The dull lights shimmered slightly, catching his attention. Dick shrugged and made his way toward them.

  The lights got brighter as he walked. He could only just make out that he was inside some sort of earthen tunnel, which should have had him on alert but in reality, he was thrilled.

  After a minute or two of walking, he found that the light was coming from some sort of glowing roots that popped out of the dirt sporadically, shining with a dull blue-green color.

  A bend in the tunnel was coming up, light flooding from around the corner. As he made the turn, Dick’s eyes shot open. It was a whole underground ecosystem. Glowing mushrooms of varying shapes and colors covered the cave, dotting the entire area. The same roots from earlier running along the walls, only this time their sizes varied wildly. One that hung from the ceiling was nearly the same width as a power pole, a power pole that twisted around the ceiling like a snake. An oddly alien, yet beautiful sight.

  Dick wandered around the breathtaking landscape for a while. He wasn’t worried about how he got there or why. He was just taking in the incredible sight. He pulled on some of the roots. Whatever substance made them glow got stuck on his hands, igniting his whimsy. He played with them for a while, waving the roots around and throwing the goop around. He gave himself a few faux neon tribal tattoos with it. He wasn’t allowed to get any real ones, but he could pretend.

  After what could have been hours, the lights began to die down in the cave, both the roots and the fungi. Dick didn’t panic. He looked around for some sort of exit. But to no avail. Every light in the cave went dark, one by one, until Dick sat in darkness once more.

  Except for one small speck of illumination glittering on the other end of the cave. He got up and moved toward it, only tripping on five or so mushrooms. Yellow light bled through the tiny hole. Dick decided to start digging. Not like he had anything else to do.

  He scraped and clawed through the dirt wall; and little by little the light grew. Each handful of dirt gave way to more golden rays.

  After a slight rumble, the whole wall crumbled. The light grew so bright, it forced Dick to cover his eyes. With another rumble, Dick heard more of the cave falling. And a loud, booming voice said. “There ya are. Been looking for you everywhere.”

  But before Dick could answer, he woke up.

  ~~~

  Dick woke up to the sun shining through the curtains. He grumbled and mumbled for a moment before covering his head with the blanket. He wanted to fall back asleep. The dream left him more tired than rested. That was until Robert’s shitty Swedish death metal alarm went off.

  “Damn it Robert.” He groaned as he got up, he wasn’t actually mad about the alarm. Robert had a hard time waking up since his last tour in Iraq and that alarm, as asinine as it was, did the trick for him. Didn’t make a damn lick of sense, but who was he to judge? Better than waking up to Robert shooting out the windows in a PTSD trip. Though it didn’t stop him from giving ole Robbie shit about it. Dick banged on the wall. “Shut it off already, Robbie!”

  A muffled “Sorry” came through the wall.

  Dragging himself out of bed, Dick scratched his stomach and headed over to the kitchen. “Come on, man, not again.” Dick said while peering into the empty fridge. “He never remembers to buy food for me. Asshole.” Dick shut the fridge, with maybe too much force applied. It slammed shut with a worrying clunk.

  Dick’s eyelids still felt heavy. He walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Dark circles sat under his blood-shot eyes. But he didn’t feel that tired. There was some fatigue, but it wasn’t anything Dick couldn’t shrug off with the assistance of God’s perfect gift to mankind: pre-workout.

  Dick sighed. “He really needs to take better care of us. Get some more sleep, idiot.” He said to himself as he splashed water on his face. He pondered on his circumstances as he washed his face.

  Dick and Richard have been sharing a body as far back as they could remember. There wasn’t any event or trauma that took place that created either of the personas—that’s what the doctors always tried to explain it as. They just were.

  Two minds, two personalities wrapped into one body from as early on as their first thoughts. They knew they were different from everyone else, but they didn’t care. Well, Richard probably did. He had his plans for the future.

  Dick made sure to not get in the way of Richard’s plans. Hell, why would he? Richard was going to make them rich. Only thing that annoyed Dick on that front was that Richard forbade him from seeing the bank account. Last time Dick found out how much they had, he dropped nearly two grand on the sickest gaming rig he could build. Richard sold it before a single game was even downloaded.

  Jerkwad, acting like I don’t see the several hundred hours he’s put into Civ 6 on his dinky laptop. How he can stand such a boring chorefest is beyond me.

  In response to that, Dick’s counterpart would always lock up the laptop that had the financial data in it. He knew how to unlock it, it's not like they could truly hide stuff from each other, but he respected Richard’s wishes.

  Just as Rule 3 says. Always respect each other’s privacy. Dick thought to himself with a nod.

  Upon thinking about the rule, his mind wandered back to when they were kids.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  They found out they weren’t like the other little boys and girls when they were around five years old. Richard tried to explain it to their parents, but they just chalked it up to having an imaginary friend.

  It wasn’t until middle school when they finally took us seriously. Richard and Dick kept having trouble in school; they weren’t as good at voluntarily giving up control as they are now. Dick beat the tar out of more than a few shit stains that messed with Richard, without Richard’s consent.

  Dick snorted. “God, I still remember how much you complained about ruining that mythical Permanent Record.”

  But more than a few serious problems occurred back then. The two often forgot classes or lessons and even days due to the random switching. Their parents finally sent them to a load of psychologists and psychiatrists before they fucked off. The all-knowing doctors just slapped them with Dissociative Identity Disorder. But they knew better, those doctors were full of crap. All of them.

  They were given drug after drug, attempting to suppress the extra persona, whichever that one was. Dick and Richard figured it was best to never think that way. They were who they were and neither wanted to change it. Or could.

  Dick looked down in the toilet bowl, memories of the countless times he threw the pills up played in his head. Dick never quite got down Richard’s trick to hide them in his gums. Felt like magic.

  The drugs made both of them feel like shit. Neither of them could think straight and would cause them to switch far more often. Or worse: turn them into zombies. They threw temper tantrums left and right until the doctors would refuse to see them.

  But everything changed when they met Dr. Payton. Dick remembered the blue-haired elderly woman, the spotless lab coat she always wore. She was the best thing that ever happened to them. She was kind and sweet, always open to them. She listened to each of the boys, taking time to get to know each of them. She was the first person to actually call Dick by his proper name. He wasn’t Richard, no matter how much his family and teachers would say it.

  Dr. Payton even worked out systems to schedule their days, in order to live more normal lives. They would split the days up best as they could, nothing rigid, but still needed to be orderly. She laid down some ground rules that both of them needed to follow. She is the main reason they could manage such a typical life now. With no one suspecting a thing.

  She was torn from them after the two were thrown into foster care when their parents passed. Dr. Payton died before they turned eighteen and had a chance to properly thank her.

  Dick finished washing his face, put on his gym clothes and grabbed his gym bag. He picked up his wallet and phone from the nightstand. He saw that Richard forgot to put his phone on charge last night and plugged it in. Dick opened the wallet up and found several twenties greeting him. He snickered “my allowance,” then headed out the door.

  Mr. Jameson grumbled out a hello. Dick waved at his elderly neighbor. Poor guy was still waiting for his cat to come home. Dick didn't have the heart to tell him the cat got run over months ago. At least not again.

  Dementia is a bitch.

  He looked over at the jalopy parked in front of the apartment, then up into the early morning sky. “Nah, too nice today.” Dick walked down the street, heading for the gym.

  Chalk dust exploded into the air as Dick clapped his hands together. The sounds of metal plates clanging together sounded like a symphony. He laid onto the bench and gripped the bar above his chest. He lifted it up, the strain burned in his arms as the bar lowered. He was going for a new PR today and felt it. In a great heave of effort, he pushed the bar back up. But halfway up, his left arm buckled, pain and aching flooded through it. He felt his wrist waver. Shiiiiit! Go for twenty-five more pounds. You can do it. Idiot.

  But Dick didn’t give in, he kept pushing, spit and saliva spraying from his mouth. “Shiii.” The bar started slipping from his hands. Then, right before his arm gave out, an intense burning filled his chest. A foreign warmth sparked just above his stomach, then spread throughout his whole body. Strength flooded into his struggling left arm. Before he knew it, the bar felt light as a feather.

  He dropped it back down on the rack, stunned. The heat flowing through his body persisted, energizing him even more than any pre-workout could. Dick grasped the bar again, this time easily pumping out ten more reps before stopping, though he had no doubt he could do more.

  “Damn son!”

  “Get after it brother!” A couple of praises came from some guys on the other side of the gym.

  Dick smiled as he huffed and puffed. He got up, giving them a two-finger salute. He looked at the bar. “I just repped 275, ten times. What the fuck?” His previous max was 250. And he could only rep that four times on a good day.

  The intense heat flowing through him subsided as sweat poured out of his body. He looked back. The bench was completely covered, the black leather glistening in the harsh fluorescent light. Dick scrunched up his nose and grabbed a towel to clean up his mess, his shirt squishing and sloshing against his torso the whole time. He sent a thanks to the heavens above that none of the cute girls that frequented the place saw him in his gnarly state. He snuck a peek at the front desk. Kelly typed away. He sighed in relief.

  “Eww.” He said to himself as he touched his clothes. Dick made his way over to the locker room. He nodded at a few of the old-timers chatting by the lockers as he headed for the showers, his skin still slightly burning. It covered his whole body like a sunburn earned at a nude beach.

  He turned the nozzle and stepped in. His vision blurred while cold water poured over him.

  “What’s happening?” Dick whispered.

  “Soon.” A voice rang in his ears.

  Dick looked around wildly, wondering if someone was screwing with him while he was in the shower. Harold and Lenny liked to pull that kind of crap while he showered. Just last week, the jackasses dropped a frying pan just outside his shower trying to scare him. It didn’t work, and Dick just throttled them for it. He wasn’t sure why they always tried.

  But Harold was in Reno for work until next week. And Lenny never came in on weekends, only time he got custody.

  After shutting off the water and throwing a towel around his waist, he walked out into the now empty locker room. He stopped. Not a single shower was running, odd for such a busy time. The chatter from the elderly men was gone too. It was silent.

  “Soon. My Champion.” The voice spoke again, from behind him. Dick whipped around. But the shower he just stepped out of was gone. Now he stood half-naked in a giant grass field. The sky above him, perfectly clear, not a single cloud in sight.

  Shocked silent, he just stood there in awe. He looked in every direction. Nothing. Nothing but an eternal grass-covered plain. He looked up into the sky. The sun, easily twenty times its normal size, burned just above him. Dick could see each ripple of flame, each explosion on its surface. His brain told him to run, to flee from whatever hell was about to befall him. But instead, he reached out, as if answering its call.

  “Good.” The voice repeated, full of pride this time. “See you soon.”

  Water rushed down Dick’s side. He found himself lying on the shower floor, curled up. He cautiously got back up. “I… I need to go.” He raced out of the shower and over to his locker.

  “That was quick.”

  “What?” Dick looked over to see who spoke. Gary, one of the old-timers, was the one addressing him.

  “Kid, you were in there for all of two minutes. Are you sure you cleaned anything?” He said with a cheerful grin.

  “Busy, cough, busy day ahead of me.” Dick responded, trying not to show his inner worry.

  “No rest for us wicked and wild ones, eh bud.” Gary slapped Dick’s back while laughing and bobbing over to the showers, fully nude with not even so much as a hand towel to hide the wrinkly bits. Getting smacked by naked old men, where did it all go wrong?

  Dick rushed out of the gym, ignoring Kelly—the cute and bubbly blond who worked the front desk—for the first time since he joined this gym. Thoughts of the odd dream last night and the even odder vision just moments prior filled his head. Maybe he was going crazy. He checked his phone. His boss texted him, asking if he could come to the job site early today; apparently one of the other guys was out sick, and he needed an extra pair of hands.

  Sure, anything to get my mind off this crap.