Gone (PewDiePie FanFic)

Chapter 2: Dreamland

                Suddenly, the brave Swedish adventurer walked in, a lantern in his hand, and the groans of a fangirling Bro were heard. The Swedish adventurer, Pewdie, whispered absentmindedly to himself, taking each step cautiously. The Bro was approaching him, coming closer by the second. “I really need Stephano right now.” He whined.

                I frowned, knowing that wherever I was, Pewdie would not see me. I couldn’t even make out my surroundings myself. Pewdie had a new lantern. He held it close to his chest, shivering with fear. His lantern swung, and just behind him I could make out the outline of a tall, statue like figure. The Bro groaning was getting louder and louder as he approached, yet Pewdie was not able to run. He turned and saw the statue, followed by the Bro, and he began to run. Just feet from the closet, his foot caught on something, and he fell face first. Pewdie sure was a clumsy kid.

                It seemed as though Pewdie was now unconscious. The Bro approached faster and faster, yet Pewdie did not budge. Instead, he lay face down on the cold stone floor. I watched his body rise and fall with his breathing, knowing he was still alive, but in danger. Startling even me, the Bro came to Pewdie’s motionless body and grabbed him by the leg. There was no fierce fight back; there was no kicking and screaming. All was silent. The Bro and his ally, the tall statue, slowly dragged Pewdie’s limp figure out of the light and into the shadows. I shivered, suddenly feeling the icy mist falling over me, swirling around me, and enveloping me in its chilly embrace.

                Searching for a way to help my dear friend, I tried to move, yet my metallic body was frozen. I struggled to get to my companion, rocking and violently shaking, yet I did not move a single inch. I tried to shout to protect Pewdie, but no words passed my golden lips. I swore in my mind, since I could not talk. Bloodcurdling screams that sounded all too familiar sounded from somewhere down a long corridor. Suddenly the blonde Swedish boy yelled, “Stephano! Stephano, help!”

                Hearing this, I struggled harder and harder to help the boy, hoping this was all a terrible dream. Come on Stephano! Move! Pewdie NEEDS you! No matter how hard I tried, I remained motionless, unable to rescue him from whatever the enemy had planned. The black room around me spun, disorienting me. It revolved faster and faster, making me severely dizzy. I had a sick feeling inside me, like something was really wrong.

                Out of nowhere, my eyes began to close, and I could no longer feel the cool mist around me. The entire scene disappeared into a black abyss of my mind. I began gaining some sort of feeling. That feeling was only pure dread.

*****Stephano’s POV*****

                Suddenly, I jerked awake, looking around frantically. There was no sign of Pewdie anywhere. Mr. Chair was still gone, and the desk was still dimly lit by two dripping candles. I felt extremely dizzy from my nightmare. When I looked toward the ground, I noticed a fresh puddle of ketchup. Inhaling deeply, I realized that this was not ketchup, but rather fresh blood. My stomach churned, though this blood spattering was somewhat normal throughout the house, for I had suspicion that this belonged to someone other than the teleporting naked guys.

                Feeling like something was severely wrong; I called out for someone to help me get to another part of the house, perhaps closer to Pewdie. Mr. Chair came running down the corridor, shouting incoherently. I frowned. “Chair, what’s happening?” I demanded.

                “The barrels…and the statues… they have Pewdie.” He said, breathless.

                My eyes grew wide with urgency and I hopped down onto the chair, shouting for him to take me to the location where Pewdie would be. He mumbled without making any sense and started walking me somewhere near the basement. We dropped into water, and then wound through some rather eerie looking corridors before reaching a room near the center of the house. He held me in front of the large wooden door. I pushed on it heavily, but it didn’t budge.

                “Damn, we need a key!” I shouted, enraged.

                Mr. Chair looked at me, very worried by my sudden rage. I sighed, realizing how I had startled the poor chair. I frowned, looking in the immediate area for the key to this door. I could hear muffled voices from inside. Following them came long, shrill shrieks that sounded all too much like Pewdie. I wanted to scream to him, yet somehow I knew the poor kid wouldn’t hear me. I leaned against the door. If only I could save Pewdie.

                Disappointed, I led Mr. Chair away from the door and asked him to help me look for the key to the conference room where the evil forced held my best and probably only friend captive. Sure he’s a real boy, and you’re just a statue type thing, but he’s your friend, Stephano. Save him. I searched harder for the missing key. I found a large, rust covered key, reminding me of the one Pewdie had used on the door just after we met with those villainous barrels.

                Quietly, Mr. Chair waded through the water to the door. He helped me slide the key into the lock and turn it. It slowly creaked open, but over the sounds of moaning and talking and shouting, no one heard me. I held my breath and ducked beneath the water. It felt cool on my face. I swam toward the sound of Pewdie’s voice. “Stephano, please save me. Stephano, please. Please save me.”