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For a while, Streamer couldn’t feel anything. Nothing but the primal sense of fear, but he can’t even recall what made him so afraid. He can’t recall… anything, really.
And then, suddenly, a tug, a rough pull, and he hit wood. Coughing at the sudden return of air to his lungs, his ears pinned back as he returned to himself. It took him a moment to get his blurry vision straight. Blinking away the tears that came to moisten his dry eyes, he stood up and looked around. He quickly remembered where he was. Alistair’s manor. He came in here to record the spirits lingering, but he got caught, then…
Then what?
He looked behind himself and to his horror- an empty painting.
“I was in that.” He murmured, shivering. Alistair trapped his victims in paintings. And he had been in one. For… who knows how long. Maybe he should count his blessings that he came out alive.
It was then he finally noticed the phone ringing in the room. How didn’t he notice it sooner? It’s… pretty loud. Probably not meant for him. But noise meant something for Alistair to hear and investigate. Best to pick up and then quickly hang up.
He grabbed the phone, and before he could slam his paw back down, a familiar voice quickly came through.
“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you all week.”
“Boss!” His tail quickly wagged, thank goodness! He was just about ready to break a window’s glass and jump out of here! He then remembered Alistair’s mansion was on top of a mountain. Hm. Perhaps not his brightest idea.
“I had assumed Alistair had found you. Or possibly that you even tried to abandon your job.” The boss responded gruffly, which made Streamer’s tail stop. He wasn’t stupid enough to try that. “I don’t think he was thrilled you were sneaking around, recording his place. You’re lucky, I gave you a badge just for this occasion. Helps me get you out of those paintings. I need you to get out of there as fast as you can, we have work to do. Don’t be stupid and get spotted again.”
Okay. Easy enough. “Where do I start, boss? This place is massive…” He asked.
“The dining room should be to your left, go through and head to the Gallery. You know personally how obsessed Alistair is over paintings. Now get to it, I’m on my way there now.”
The phone was hung up, and Streamer put it back. Okay. This was all easy enough. Super easy. Just get out of the big manor of the guy who just kidnapped you and put you in a frame for his amusement. Awesome. He’s definitely not terrified and wants to just curl up and cry.
Oh, who is he kidding? He’s TERRIFIED. He knew this whole thing was going to be dangerous. (Then again, it wasn’t like he ever had a choice.) But he can’t stop the shivering through his whole body, the sweat clinging to his fur. It would only take one misstep and he’d be back in that painting, frozen in fear. It would be so easy. His paw twitched, but he quickly pulled it back to his chest. It would be stupid to pick up the phone again. Childish. He’s not a child. He’s brave, he has to be.
He picks up the phone anyways.
“What? What is it that you need?” He sounded annoyed, and Streamer knew he sucked to talk to when he was annoyed. But it was the boss or the other paintings that probably can’t hear him.
“I-I’m scared.” He confessed, gripping his shirt tightly. “I don’t think I can do this alone. I don’t WANT to do this alone. There’s no way I can just walk out of the door, he’d never make it that easy. Are you sure I even CAN leave?”
A long sigh before the boss responded. “Listen, kid, it won’t be easy. Never said it would be. But it’s most definitely possible. He probably has puzzles set up, to prevent any escapees- like yourself- from escaping. There’s many phones in his manor, I can assist you if you call me from their rooms, but there’s only so much I can do for you. You gotta toughen up a little, kid.” A beat passed before he continued. “There should be lost spirits around, they can help you regain your sanity if your nerves take too much from you. Use your head and don’t get spotted, kid. Got it?”
“...Got it.” Streamer did not, in fact, feel much more confident, but hung up the phone anyways. He has to toughen up, the boss said that he has to. He can do that. Just don’t shake as much. It’s easy, even. He can totally do it.
Don’t get caught. Simple task. He took another deep breath and started moving.
– – –
Okay, maybe it was simple. The security- ‘Seekers’, if he recalled correctly- seemed to only stare down at the beams of light shone from their lanterns, with no spatial awareness whatsoever. He found a painting in a bathroom against the wall and grabbed it, thinking it might be of use. Alistair loved his paintings after all.
He quickly headed to the Gallery once the coast was clear, and found spaces on the wall, suspiciously looking like paintings belonged there with all the marks. He found a spot for the painting he’d acquired and hung it up, hoping it didn’t just crash back down since he’d never hung up a painting before- especially not one so fancy.
To his relief, it stayed still. It was then he noticed the phone in the corner of the room. Guess the boss was right, there really were a lot of phones in this place. Well, he’s been in like… 5 rooms, and 2 of them had phones. It’s a high ratio. He picked up the phone, and he didn’t even have to wait a few seconds before the other end picked up.
“Well? What’s the Gallery look like?” The boss asked.
“Smaller than I thought for a guy who likes paintings so much… but there’s four spaces that look like they had paintings hung up. I found one in a bathroom.” Streamer explained, glancing at the three spaces. Maybe he needed to get paintings off the wall from other walls and in here? He did recall seeing one where he was trapped… heck, maybe even that painting would work.
“Hm. Four spaces and you’ve already got one hung up. Look at you, kid. You’ll be out of there in no time. Though I suspect the others won’t be as easy.” The boss congratulated him, although he had a feeling it was just an attempt to comfort him so he wasn’t as scared. He appreciated it. “Look around the place, knowing the guy, he’s probably hiding them around. Puzzles, like I said before. This place is also pretty darn big. Try to keep a mental map. Got it, kid?”
“Got it, but…” Something was bothering Streamer. “How do you know all of this?” The silence that followed made him realize he probably shouldn’t have asked that. “N-Not that I’m ungrateful, boss, I was just curiou-”
“Don’t waste your time asking dumb questions and get out of there.” The boss interrupted harshly, making Streamer flinch at the tone. Ugh. He’s definitely mad now. Harsh topic, he assumed. Well, he was always used to prying without asking questions directly. It’s a bad habit, according to the boss.
He hung up the phone and headed out of the Gallery.
– – –
After finding one in what must’ve been some kind of storage room, Streamer headed down some stairs, finding a phone at the bottom. He didn’t want to call without knowing where he was, so he opened the door at the bottom, peeking through.
Then quickly shutting the door again once the smell hit his nose. That was an entire sewer system. Once he finally felt like he wasn’t going to vomit, he picked up the phone, which of course was quickly responded to. “I’m in the… sewers? I didn’t even know he had an entire system under his manor.”
“The cellar? Why are you all the way down there? Stop wasting time. You’re not his plumber.” He heard a contemplative hum. “Although… there could definitely be a puzzle there. Look around, if you find any valves, turn them. Fix any pipes you find down there too, can’t imagine Alistair’s plumbing is the voice. Get to it, plumber boy.” The boss chuckled at his own joke. “Oh, and watch out for Squiggles. It’s his pet fish. It’s got teeth.”
The boss hung up before Streamer could ask a thing. Maybe he got annoyed by his questions. Probably that. He definitely didn’t appreciate the ‘plumber boy’ comment, though. He took a deep breath, savoring the air that didn’t smell like garbage, and then headed inside.
– – –
Streamer thinks he might hate this place even more now. His clothes were wet, he smells like garbage, and he really wished he could send all the water elsewhere and watch that stupid angler fish flop helplessly. He hung up the painting that he freed with his fixed plumbing, which now also smelled like garbage, and wrung his shirt again. He’d love a bath right now. Or a shower. Whichever has clean water.
He picked up the phone to inform the boss of his progress. “Find anything?” The boss asked before he could even speak. “Mhm. Got a painting free of some foliage. I smell like garbage now though, and my clothes are all wet.” He grumbled, taking off his hat to wring it too.
“Well it’s not that bad, your badge is still giving a signal. A small price to pay for your freedom, really. Maybe you should’ve become a plumber instead, huh?”
Both of them go completely quiet. Apparently the boss realized his mistake. “...Just hurry up, kid.”
Streamer hung up the phone. He’d like out sooner rather than later.
– – –
WHERE’S A SPIRIT?!
Streamer ran, his breathing as fast as his heart was pumping, a painting underneath one arm and the other desperately reaching for something, anything. He slammed open the Gallery door, ears ringing, and sprinted for the connecting bathroom, remembering he saw a spirit in there before. It was still there, and even though he could swear he heard roaring, he grabbed it in his paw, feeling everything go silent.
The air felt too tight, he couldn’t possibly get enough in his lungs, yet he kept gasping for something that escaped him. But it was silent. He slid down to the floor, the cold floor grounding him just a little bit more. After a few moments, he thinks he could stand up without the world spinning around him in blinding red. He slowly pushed himself up, feeling mildly okay, to his relief. He looked at the painting he dropped in his frantic dash for the bathroom.
…It was a little scratched up from Streamer basically throwing it once he got into the Gallery, but the framing was intact, so it’d probably be fine. He hung it up on the last slot, and could’ve sworn he heard the distant noise of doors creaking. Finally, the way out was open. He almost contemplated not picking up the phone and telling the boss, but… well, it’s probably best for him to know, right? He did say he was on his way here.
He picked up the phone and spoke quickly before the boss could say anything. “I got the last painting up, boss. I heard doors opening, I think I’m almost out.” He spoke probably too quickly to sound normal, and to his dismay, it seemed like the boss noticed.
“Kid? You sound out of breath, you okay?” The boss sounded genuinely concerned. Huh. Streamer didn’t think he’d actually… worry. Surely it’s just his imagination. “Don’t worry about it, I’m fine. I’ll just-”
“Kid. Answer me. What happened?” The boss spoke firmly, without room for Streamer to brush it off. He wanted answers and he would shake them out of Streamer. He gulped nervously, surely he wouldn’t be happy about his mistake. “I… I got spotted. Just had to run to the Gallery. I’m a little tired but I’ll be okay.” He responded, hoping the boss would just brush it under the rug and call it a day. His response definitely wasn’t what Streamer was expecting.
“...you find a spirit to calm you down?” The boss asked, which made Streamer stop. “Yeah, I did.” He answered, which made the boss sigh. He wasn’t sure if it was a sigh of relief or not. “Good, good… look, kid. You’re almost out of there. Just… take a breather if you have to, alright? I have a feeling this won’t be an easy exit.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “And I’ll stay on the phone if you want me to. Just don’t ask stupid questions.”
Streamer was stunned silent by the offer. It was stupid, it was childish to even accept, he didn’t need comfort when he was alive and okay right now. But nonetheless, he slid down against the wall and kept the phone to his ear. He’d just sit for a bit.
Just a few minutes. It wasn’t like he was going to confront Alistair himself.
– – –
So. Funny story.
Streamer stopped the moment he reached the bottom of the stairs and saw the very thing he had feared, floating over a gaping hole in the manor.
“There you are.” Alistair turned his head to look directly at Streamer, fury burning in his gaze. “I was wondering who was snooping around here. Messing with my Paintings, my Manor…” (authors note: I only capitalized these because they’re capitalized in Alistair’s dialogue) He scoffed, turning fully to face Streamer. “How did you even escape? You look completely clueless.” His glare turned accusing. “Who do you work for? Who sent you to snoop around my Manor?”
Streamer opened his mouth but didn’t get a moment to respond as he realized red magic was gathering around Alistair. “The answer will be nobody soon.” A sickening crack filled the air as Alistair’s bottom half extended up to the ceiling. “Because you aren’t leaving here alive.”
Streamer stood stunned at Alistair's transformation, shaking on the spot. Before he heard a slam, and looked up to see a chandelier falling right for him. He quickly moved out of the way. He could hardly tell what was happening around him, really. It was all a blur when he looked back on it, but all he knew was that it was hot, loud, and he hurt really bad just about everywhere. But he kept seeing the spirits, and despite him being able to stay calm throughout Alistair’s assault, he still grabbed them.
Then eventually, a bunch of spirits surrounding Alistair, circling around him. His head twitched, and then he was screaming, the spirits coming up from below and dragging him down, Streamer covering his ears from the screams of the one who would now join the damned. Then, it all went silent. He opened his eyes, and there was nothing. The hole just looked like a hole. Never ending blackness. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread, and quickly backed away.
Did all of that really just happen? He must be crazy, after all, there’s no way…
There’s no way Alistair is just… gone.
He was still staring at the hole, now from a safe distance, when he heard the sound of door creaking.
“Kid?! What the hell happened, I heard a ton of noise!”
It was the boss. There was light.
He stood up and quickly headed for it.
Freedom.
He just didn’t notice the little spirit that had hid within his hat.