Chaplin’s Classic Movie’s Drive-in:
Donald Dillinger
Donald leaned back in the cheap leather seats of John's car in a vain attempt to distract himself from his rumbling stomach. Donald was beginning to realize that sending Dexter for snacks on his own, may have been a bad idea. Maybe. Normally Dexter was very fast and reliable when it comes to getting snacks for movie night. He always got what they wanted exactly how they liked it within a reasonable time frame and never kept other people's change. But every now and then, he was nowhere to be found, like today. He went to get snacks almost thirty minutes ago and they hadn’t heard a peep from him, the guy wasn’t even picking up his phone.
“Uuuuuhg!” Donald's sister, Freya Fink complained. “Where is Dex with the snacks?”
Despite only being half-siblings, 17-year-old Donald and Freya could easily pass as twins. They both had light blond hair and bright blue eyes along with pale caucasian skin. The only difference between the two was Donald was slightly under average height with a wiry scarecrow-like build while Freya was well above average height, especially for a girl, with a more heavyset build. Donald likes to wear t-shirts and light jackets along with jeans while Freya liked to wear baggy sweats and rarely wore anything different.
“Quit your complaining Frey!” John said. “He probably met a girl at the concession stand.”
John C. Eastwood is an incredibly threatening-looking 22-year-old man who enlisted in the marine corps right out of high school and was discharged 4 years later after a mission gone wrong. Standing at 6 feet 5 inches John towered over everyone he met. John is half African American and half Mexican but you wouldn’t be able to tell that just from looking at him as he looks exactly like his Mexican father and nothing like his African American mother even though no one had ever met her apart from his father. John's head is shaved with black stubble all over the top being the only evidence he even had hair. His skin is a warm light brown like his father's and also, just like his father, he has light brown eyes. He always wears camo cargo pants and a sleeveless t-shirt.
“Uhh, have you met Dex?” Freya said. “The guys more socially inept than movie characters played by Jessie Eisenberg.”
“Maybe when your around, but the dude is pretty easy to talk to,” Alice said with a light British accent.
Alice Abney is an 18-year-old British-Jewish immigrant with caucasian skin, deep brown hair, and even deeper brown eyes. Despite her British accent, she spoke like an American. Sometimes even purposefully pausing to think of a more American way to speak instead of what came to her naturally. Her family moved to America when she was 16 and became fast friends with Dexter. A year ago she was introduced to John, Freya, and Donald and became friends with them as well. She liked to wear jeans and sweatshirts during the winter and long shorts and a t-shirt during the summer, making her the only one of her friends with a varied wardrobe. Since it was winter, she was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt.
“Wait, why only around me?” Freya asked.
“Because you love to embarrass him at every opportunity,” Donald said. “Which, by the way, is kinda rude.”
“No, I don’t!” Freya said, slightly offended.
“You totally do.”
“No question about it.”
“Definitely.”
Everyone other than Freya said, all nodding in agreement.
“Seriously? C’mon it's not that bad! It’s not that bad!” Freya protested. “R-right?”
“Yeah, it's pretty bad. Why do you do that to him?” John asked.
“I’m trying to help poindexter build some backbone!” Freya said, trying to justify herself.
“Do you even know what poindexter means?” Donald asked.
“I do too know what it means!” Freya asked.
“Explain what it means then,” Donald said.
“It means, uh… It means…”
“A boringly studious and socially inept person,” Donald said.
“-and that doesn’t describe Dexter, the guy who has never studied a day in his life and is one of the most charismatic people I know, in the slightest,” Alice said.
“You just said that because Dexter is in the word poindexter, didn’t you?” Donald accused.
“Wu-a-What! No!” Freya said, stumbling over her words as she desperately tried to think of an excuse to justify the nickname.
“Also, embarrassing someone in front of others does not help them build backbone,” John said, holding up his right hand. Everything after his pointer finger was missing, replaced by a nasty scar and plastic prosthetic of his 3 missing digits. “Take it from the cinema nerd turned badass Special Forces super soldier.”
“Huh…” Freya said. “I should probably…”
“Apologize to him?” John suggested.
“Yeaaah…” Freya said with a twinge of guilt.
Freya’s stomach suddenly let out a loud rumble, “Ugh! Ok, that's it! I'm calling him again!”
Freya’s phone hummed as she waited for Dexter to pick up, only to be hung up on again. “Damnit Dex! Pick up!”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Calm down Freya, it's only food. Wait, whoa! Look at that guys!” John said interrupting himself as he stuck his head out the window and pointed to the sky.
Streaks of white, blue, red, and gold flew across the sky in dazzling displays of light. They glowed so brightly that their light overtook that of the moon and stars. “Shooting stars!” Alice exclaimed, mesmerized. “I’ve always wanted to see them!”
“Actually, it's called a meteor shower,” Donald said. “Though they are beautiful, just like the stars. I can definitely see why people call them that.”
“Don, don’t ruin the cool factor of space,” John said.
“Giant rocks moving at 44 miles a second that light on fire upon entering the atmosphere isn’t cool?” Donald asked.
“Actually, that’s way cooler than flying stars,” John said. “I retract my previous statement.”
One of the stars quickly began to grow bigger and bigger. The white light began to become blindingly powerful as it drew closer to them.
BOOM!
The star crashed nearby in the forest next to the drive-in, rocking the earth and sending shockwaves through the trees causing them to violently sway back. Dirt and woodchips shot up into the air as the star hit the ground telling everyone exactly where it was like a nuclear mushroom cloud of nature's wrath.
“What the hell was that?” Donald exclaimed rubbing the spots out of his eyes.
“I have no idea, but let's go check it out!” Alice said, practically jumping out of the car and running towards the woods where it crashed.
“Sure, why not. Wait for me!” John called out, chasing after her.
“Guys, don’t. Let's think about this!” Donald called out as his friends ran into the forest.
However, if they heard Donald, they didn’t care as they disappeared into the dark forest.
“Well, they’re screwed, HEY!” Donald exclaimed as Freya ran out of the car. “WHERE ARE YOU GOING!”
“To check out the falling star!” Freya said.
“Like hell you are!” Donald said, getting out of the car as he chased after his sister and friends into the dark woods.
However, the others failed to notice that no one in the drive-in even noticed the crash or the blinding light. Their faces were nothing but blank stares with white eyes as drool and blood leaked out of the sides of their mouths.
Dexter O’Dunn
“Ooof!” Dexter fell to his hands and knees, gasping for breath. He was corned in the woods near the concession stand of the theater by a gang of bullies consisting of high school dropouts and drug dealers.
Dexter was the most average-looking guy around with medium-length black hair, blue eyes, and lightly tanned white skin. If someone were to look up the word average, it would be Dexter's face instead of a definition. Much like his best friend John, he wore cargo pants but Dexter hated the look of camo and preferred dull colors such as tan and grey. He wore solid-colored t-shirts under an unzipped jacket with a deep hood.
“Dex, Dex, Dexy,” Samuel Smith taunted. “I told you to pay me every Thursday, and you missed your last payment. You know what happens when you miss your payment?”
Much like Dexter was the definition of average, Samuel Smith is the definition of white trash. His nose would constantly bleed from the slightest sneeze due to constant hits of cocaine and his breath stunk like a dead animal hinting at the state of his deteriorating teeth that he hid behind a facemask. To cover the scabs and needle marks on his arms and legs he wore thick sweatpants and a ratty long-sleeved t-shirt. His incredibly thin hair was shaved on the sides of his head and bleached white. To make his appearance even more unnerving, his hazel eyes were badly bloodshot.
Samuel smiled and nodded to one of his friends, who kicked Dexter in the stomach so hard his ribs threatened to break. “When you miss your payment you lose your security, and who knows what sort of unfortunate things will befall you without proper protection?”
“B-but, I already paid you,” Dexter wheezed.
“You were fifty bucks short,” Samuel said.
“But you said-”
“I raised the price,” Samuel interrupted, stomping on Dexter's back. “Oooh, that nasty bruise you just got there. You just seem to attract all sorts of trouble without me and my boys to keep you safe.”
Samuel’s 3 friends chuckled, though their sounds of amusement were closer to the sounds of laughing hyenas drooling over a dying animal rather than chuckles. Dexter doubted Samuel even saw these guys as friends, more likely he saw them as goons.
“Just give me a day, I can get you the money in a d-” Dexter was cut off as Samuel kicked him in the ribs with his pointy boots.
“Now. You will give it to me now,” Samuel demanded. “I know you have 50 bucks on you.”
“That's not my money to give,” Dexter said between coughing fits.
“Tough,” Samuel said, taking a small wad of bills out of Dexter's pants pocket.
Suddenly, Dexter's phone began to buzz. On the screen, Freya's blond-haired blue-eyed face shone through his thin pant pockets. Dexter reaches for his phone but Samuel’s ears twitch as he hears the low buzz of a phone call.
“Don’t let him answer that!” he orders his goons.
Dexter is wrestled to his feet as his phone is fished out of his pocket. Seeing an opportunity, Dexter stomps on one of Samuel's goon's feet. The screams of pain startle the others, and they let go of Dexter in surprise. Before they can retaliate, a massive BOOM! rocks the earth. Not caring who or what caused the boom, Dexter runs off into the forest.
“GET HIM! I'M NOT DONE YET!” Samuel ordered his goons. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING JUST STANDING THERE? SNAP OUT OF IT AND MOVE!”
“Leave 'em, Sam!” one of the goons said. “I’ll find him!”
Dexter was never the most physically fit guy, but the human body can do amazing things when they're scared. Dexter's lungs quickly began to burn with effort and his legs turned to jello, but he kept on pushing. Branches whipped him in the face as he stumbled/ran through the woods. It was too dark to see, but Dexter didn’t care. He could find his way back to the theater after he escaped.
“WHERE ARE YOU DEXY!” Samuel yelled. “YOU CAN’T RUN FROM ME!”
“Crap, crap!” Dexter panted. “Crap, CRAP!” A huge creator appeared out of the darkness in front of Dexter, he tried to stop but he tripped over his own feet. “Uh oh…”
“UGH!”
“OOF!”
“GOD!”
“AH!”
Dexter cried out as he tumbled into the crater. Rocks and roots cut up his hands as he desperately tried to protect his face. Dexter nearly folded himself in half as he faceplanted on the packed dirt base of the crater, his spin crackling and popping like rice crispies.
“Ow…” Dexter groaned, pushing himself up. “I really need to work on my coordination.”
Dexter got to his feet, his legs shaking and chest burning. His lightly tanned caucasian skin was covered in red irritated shallow cuts and deep purple bruises. His slightly long mop of brown hair was filled with dirt and twigs, and his cut-up hands wiped the dirt away from his eyes leaving light streaks of blood behind. Those same eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he saw what was floating in front of him. It was a giant jagged white cloudy crystal the size of a laptop glowing with pale energy.
Dexter couldn’t take his eyes off the glowing crystal in front of him. He could hear it whispering in his ear. “Touch, touch, touch,” it whispered in an almost alien voice. “Power, power, power.”
Dexter's beat-up hand slowly inched toward the crystal, his mind and body transfixed by alien crystal. Then, in a flash of light, his finger tapped the crystal and it disappeared. Dexter suddenly snapped back into reality, and his eyes went wide.
“What the hell! Why? Why would I do that?” Suddenly, Dexter fell to the ground as he felt like someone was crushing his skull and flames searing his heart. The pain shot up and down his body like electricity pushing the air out of his lungs and preventing him from screaming.
“THIIIEEF!” a man screeched.
Dexter painfully shuffled around to see one of Samuel's goons wielding a box cutter. “GIVE IT BACK TO MEEEE!” he screamed and jumped into the crater, pinning Dexter down. His eyes were bleeding and his mouth was foaming as he stared at Dexter with madness in his eyes. “Cut! CUT CUT CUT!”
Dexter struggled to remain conscious as he weekly pushed the box cutter away from his body. If it wasn’t for Dexter's attacker's constant drug abuse degrading his body, Dexter would be dead. The pain in his head and the burning in his chest became unbearably painful. He would scream if he could get his lungs to work long enough to take a breath. Dexter's vision began to blur as he fought to stay awake, knowing that if he passed out he would never wake up again.
In the end, Dexter didn’t have the stamina to completely stop the blade. Slowly, Samuel's goon pushed the blade down and began cutting through Dexter's shirt and flesh. “Stop,” Dexter's body screamed. “STOP IT!” Dirt and rocks began to float into the air as the need to survive overtook Dexter's mind. The air rippled with energy causing the trees to sway and dirt to move away from him, uncovering another crystal shattered into 4 pieces.
With a ripple of pain and heat, Dexter felt something tug behind his eyes and his attacker shot backward into the sky as if someone picked him up. He flew so fast and so far he got impaled on the highest branch of a giant spruce tree. Dexter's eyes went wide in fear as he saw the crazed light leave the goon's eyes and his body go still, the box cutter fell from his hand and disappeared into the dark.
“What- what just- what?” Dexter babbled, as he stumbled to his feet. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of others approaching. Apparently, he wasn’t going to be the only one to stumble upon this crater. “I- I gotta get out of here!” Dexter panicked as he quickly scrambled up the side of the crater and sprinted back towards the theater.