Amnesia: The Painter's Prison [An OSC AU]

AFFÛTER

Paintbrush slowly opened the door to the next room, poking their head in and taking in the view before them. A large lavish library, with shelves that housed book after book with so many different genres. Cobwebs littered an old chandelier that hung from the ceiling, swaying slightly back and forth with the quiet wind. The floors made quiet creaking sounds as Paintbrush stepped into the new room, closing the door behind them. They fluffed their bristles a bit, seeing that Baxter was okay. They smiled.

"At least you're still with me, bud." They said with a quiet sigh. Baxter snapped his claws in response.

Paintbrush then made their way to the table that sat underneath the chandelier, find in another cassette tape lying against the wood surrounded by other books. They picked up the recorder, wasting no time to press the play button on the top.

"By the way...did you...know I've tried doing this with other people? I mean, not from my world, but...it's really not that bad when you have someone else from another world, right...? At least I think so...You probably have no idea what I'm talking about...but...if you ever find yourself in that plane of existence I was in...and used that radio as long as I have...then you'd probably understand what I'm talking about...oh, and...uh...if you die here, just...hold onto this piece of paper. You can put the code into the radio and you'll come back...what was I talking about again? Oh...oh yeah. I usually keep a spare key in this room in case of emergencies...maybe you can find it and...go on to the next room."

Paintbrush wasn't able to get much of that outside of some lunatic's ramblings. Radio? Plane of existence? Paintbrush barely knew what any of that meant, but...it didn't matter. Looking over beside the recorder, they noticed an out of place blue sticky note. Written on it was some strange code, a bunch of numbers with a single decimal near the end. They sighed and just lifted the sticky note up to their bristles to give it to Baxter. "Here, buddy. Hold onto this." They said. The crab took the sticky note, climbing back into the strands of blonde hair.

What followed was just endless walking through rows of books and old magazines, all seemingly held by beasts much bigger than them due to the strange prints on the sides of the books. They resembled Paintbrush's hands, only bigger. It was strange.

"...Paint...brush...?"

Paintbrush perked up to the sound of a raspy, yet familiar voice. It came through a small grate in the wall, almost like a vent. Holding their fire poker close, they slowly approached the grate and bent down to look through it, seeing a part of the basement they couldn't recognize. There were surprisingly a lot more bodies than they thought in this room, but something...someone...stood out. Sprawled out on the pile of bodies was an armless yellow and purple striped party hat, practically torn to pieces as a strange black ooze bled from the wounds. Paintbrush's eyes widened up realizing who this was...

"Party Hat??" They said in a whispery yell, "Have you been here the whole time??"

"I-...I don't know...how long...it's been..." Party Hat's voice, now weak from dryness and probably alot of screaming, said. "...I-I remember...I remember listening to music with Boombox...and then I just...appeared here...I...I'm in so much...so much pain..."

"Listen, just...stay with me for a little longer, okay? What else do you remember? Was there a bunch of cassette tapes?"

"I-...remember seeing...Knife...-"

"KNIFE?! Is he here?! Where did you find him?!"

-Clutter...-

"H-...He was...I remember...stepping on a cassette tape...and then he...he just...appeared..."

"...Did he have one of those wheels around his neck?"

-Rattle...-

"T-...They all did...they...all did...he's...a monster...isn't he...?"

"The guy on the cassette tapes? I'm gonna take him down...I just gotta find him. What else do you know about him??"

"A-...A...ir..."

"...Air? What about the air?"

Party Hat's eyes suddenly widened.

"Be-...hind...YOU...!"

Paintbrush quickly whipped their head back around.

"HRAAAAAAAGHHH!!"

Paintbrush suddenly skid across the floor, a massive crack now embedded into their cheek, oozing that same strange liquid. It was more red, before they realized it was the same red liquid they've been seeing for the past few rooms.

So...

This was "blood."

Paintbrush looked back up towards the figure, and immediately, they were able to figure out who was it was based on their sharp bladed head. It was Knife. He was practically in the same condition Suitcase was in. Pitch black eyes, a wheel tightly clasped to the rim of his handle, chains and shackles wrapped around his wrists, his body covered from head to toe in "blood." Knife approached Paintbrush and began to straddle them, wrapping his hands around the neck of their handle and squeezing tightly. They choked as Knife squeezed tighter and tighter every moment. The kitchen knife let out a low cackle as he continued to choke the life out of Paintbrush.

"Finally...You're finally back...you have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to come back...now I can finally finish you off...I'LL MAKE YOU PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID TO ME AND SUITCASE!"

"G-Ghack...!" Paintbrush let out a raspy gag as they tried to reach for their fire poker, "Knife...! I-It's...me...it's...Paint...brush...!"

"HAH! Don't give me that excuse again...you've told me countless times you're someone else...but I'm not falling for it a-fucking-gain...I know who you are...I know EXACTLY who the hell you are...So do me and all your other victims a favor and FUCKING DIE ALREADY!"

The tightness around Paintbrush's neck got stronger...

They let out a gasp, before they managed to wrap their hand around the handle of the fire poker.

They had to do this.