Phantom Hearts: Prologue Drako

The Phantom had watched over this boy for as long as he could remember. However in all that time it had never gotten this bad. The cuts had never gotten that deep before. The boy had never been that desperate. He wondered what happened to cause this, why couldn’t the doctors do anything to get him out of this coma that he was trapped in.

How did he manage to get worse? The last time the Phantom had seen him the boy was fine in a few days but this time.

It had to be worse, the lady that had come by seemed to stand guard over the boy. She adjusted the bandages, but the Phantom knew it was so she could see them.

He had so many questions, not just about himself but also about the others that were in the room. Questions that the answers could only be answered with more questions. He wondered if memories could be like a glass bottle, so easy to shatter when smashed or disrupted, the contents spilling out and leaving nothing that one could consume. That’s how he felt about this, and why he was here. Memories they seemed to be so easy to take away or manipulate, that you had to fight to keep them.

He knew that this wasn’t right, and it wasn’t just how the people would come in and out with machines, medical supplies and clipboards, it was that he couldn’t remember himself. How could he protect this boy if he knew nothing about why he was here?

Had a few days gone by? The Phantom sat on an abandoned chair by the window. Today he stared out it, instead of at the boy connected to machines that were trying to keep him alive.

There was a thin layer of freshly fallen snow. He only wished to leave this room that smelled of disinfectant and death. Something caught his attention, someone was running. It was a boy. The Phantom couldn’t help but smile. The pale yellow scarf that was wrapped around the boys neck was flying behind him like the cape of a superhero. The way this boy ran was as if he was an arrow, streamline and practiced. Then he was gone, leaving the Phantom wondering if the boy was even real in the first place.

“Afternoon Drako.” He hears a familiar voice behind him. He can’t help but turn to see who it is, even though he knows it’s the lady.

“Afternoon.” He replies without thinking.

‘Wait…Drako…why does that sound familiar? The phantom wonders.

He is positive that it’s the boys name, and not his, but everytime he hears someone say it. A memory of some kind stirs inside his mind.

He stands up and wanders over to the end of the bed. He really wants to leave this depressing place but he knows that he can’t go far before there is a pull to bring him back.

The Phantom sighs, he really hates looking at this sad boy. So lifeless looking, the machines the only thing keeping him alive at this point. This would be a terrible place to die.

The Phantom sat down on the end of the bed as he began to ponder. He decided that if he was going to die, he thought that it would be doing something dangerous. Like sword fighting, or flying to the Bemudian triangle, or being a science experiment of a sort and becoming a magical being. He laughed to himself, where did those ideas come from? Especially since, wasn’t he already dead?

The Phantom looks over at the Lady. She is holding the boys hand and mumbling things. She begins to cry. He feels like he should comfort her, but he knows that it won’t work. He was nothing but air to the people around him.

“Drako.” She says again. The Phantom frowns.

Why does that sound so familiar? He wonders.

The Lady is crying now, she is trying to wipe away the tears but more just keep coming. Her hand tightens on the boy’s hand.

“Drako, don’t die on me. Please….” She mumbles more words but the phantom tries to ignore them. It’s not the first time she’s said that. He focuses more on how he knows the boys name. Then something returns to him.

“…..but I’m not dead…..I’m in front of you….you…can’t see me, can you?”

He…he was Drako. He was the comatose boy, but what had happened. Why wasn’t he waking up this time?

He looked over at the boy, no at himself and quickly ended up looking away. It was like those out of body experiences and it scared him.

Was he going to die? What had happened?

Again the questions came only to be answered with more questions. He hated it.

Nothing makes sense!

He lightly runs his hand over the bandages on the comatose him’s arm.

No movement.

Was he really was dead….but then… why was he still here? How was his body still alive, yet in a coma? How…..

With all good time, Drako. A girls voice spoke in his head. Everything you are thinking about will be answered. Just be patient.

What happened to me? Why am I here? He asks.

No one replies.