Duty Free

You check yourself in the mirrored wall as you make your way to customs and border control. A tall straight backed officer.

With a smile you hang your sunglasses on your shirt, raising an eyebrow on your perfect face, a face you can trust, a face that oozes confidence. The name on the badge catches your eye; D'Arcy, with a chuckle you rub a thumb across its embossed surface.

You turn and look at your travel partner, "Patricks, what's wrong?" You say with a touch of loathing in your voice. 

"I don't like what you're doing. We're not meant to be here. It's a direct violation of orders."

You give a sniff as the queue starts to move, "You really think I give a shit about any orders?"

"It goes against everything we stand for. It makes me sick."

"You must really hate me Patricks. But why WOULD I lie to you, this IS our new destination. You're still following orders, just someone else's now."

"I don't hate you, I just don't believe you. You've got everyone believing your fine and normal, but you're not fooling me, I don't know what it is yet; but you're not D'Arcy."

Your mouth twitches as you glance over at Patricks; your lip curls and you look directly into his eyes. He wobbles a little and his eyelids flutter. A single drop of blood falls from his nose, blemishing the perfect white of his shirt.

"Are we on the same page now Patricks?" He slowly nods. "It's a shame, I didn't really want to break you. I was starting to like you."

You get your papers out, passing them on to the attendant at the gate. He looks at the papers, the picture and then at you for a few moments. "Last minute change of destination?" He says in a dull tone. You shrug, and he waves you through.

You watch Patricks carefully, and he glances over at you for a split second before being waved through, he slowly walks over to you, as if it's forced.

"That wasn't so bad was it?" You say coolly, "I need a piss, follow me." At the restroom, you turn and look him in the eyes, "Don't let anyone IN, and count down slowly from one hundred," you tap his forehead with your finger, "after that you will remember nothing. Nod if you understand." He slowly nods. 

Inside you check the stalls, they're all clear. You glance into the mirrors above the wash basins, and grin; officer and a gentleman? Like fuck!

Glancing down, you see a spot of blood in the basin, then another. A low groan erupts from deep inside you, and with a snap of pain your vision blurs, into a cascade of crimson and white. You groan again, although this time it's different as your eyes focus on the back of D'Arcy's head.

You take a step back as the officer crumples to the ground, devoid of any master. Looking up you smile at your true identity, a face of a seventeen year old still clothed in a red t-shirt and black hoodie.

You step over the officer, and leave; only glancing at Patricks on the way out. A new country and new adventures.