———
Test Tube opened the door, and stared at Mic. She managed to calm Taco down surprisingly quickly. Taco was only sobbing at this point. Which Mic seemed relieved she had managed to calm her to this extent. Test Tube was... Just impressed.
Microphone noticed Test Tube had entered the room, and looked up at her. She didn't say a word, but instead shuffled further onto the bed, away from Test Tube.
Test Tube was intrigued. She knew Mic was scared of her. Taco however... She believed it was more of a immediate fear response. Not to Test Tube directly, but the lack of control she had over the situation.
Taco hated that... Hated not having a say, or able to think her way out of a problem. It was... Terrifying to her. A variable she never had even considered. Taco was always good at getting control over people, and her surroundings. But Test Tube has created a environment in which it is nearly impossible for her to do anything without being harmed or punished. This really upset Taco... She HATED that. It was one of the few things that truly terrified her. As of now.
If Test Tube we're to compare their intelligence, she'd probably say they both we're equal, just... in their own categories. Test Tube already accepted that, but she has the upper hand here. So it doesn't bother Test Tube. Not at all.
Regardless Test Tube needed to get them both into the operation room. She had already started to get a bit antsy about the punishment. Just wanting to get it over with. She had something she wanted to try.
"M-4, please come here. Bring T-3." Test Tube commanded as she stared at Microphone condescendingly.
Microphone was silent. But refused to move at all. Still holding Taco close to herself. As if protecting them both. Microphone was holding her ground.
"M-Microphone... She'll hurt us..." Taco whispered to Microphone as she pushed away to look up at her properly. That was a mistake though, because she winced in pain as her arm moved.
"S—she'll definitely hurt u—us if... We DO go..." Microphone mumbled. As she shuffled further away from Test Tube.
Test Tube started to get annoyed with Mic's disobedience. She took a step forward, this startled Microphone and she scrambled to get further against the wall.
"N—No!!!" Microphone yelled at Test Tube. "Don't hurt her! P-Please! I'm sorry! I-I won't do it ag-ain!!!" Microphone shouted in a panic. "I d-didn't mean to say your name! I—I swear!!!" Mic was getting frantic.
"Regardless of what you meant to or not, you still did. And regardless of what you 'meant' to or not, your friend will bleed out and die without medical attention. Did you forget I shot her? Do I need to put a hole in her OTHER arm for you to understand?!" Test Tube asked, annoyed.
"N—NO! No..." Microphone panicked. As she turned away slightly.
"M—Mic stop... We HAVE t—to..." Taco sighed sadly in defeat. As she pushed away slightly again.
"H—How can you just ACCEPT THIS?! A—aren't you scared?!" Microphone yelled loudly, before she covered her mouth, realizing she was screaming at max volume.
Taco, who had flinched to cover where her 'ears' would go if she had them, looked back up at her. "I just... Don't care... enough to fight..." Taco mumbled. "I-It can't be worse then what she's... a—already done..."
"B—but—!"
"Microphone... J—just... leave it be... We can... try to stop this, in time..." Taco whispered as she slightly looked away. Beads of sweat began to form and run down her face.
Microphone could tell Taco was... Nervous. Who wouldn't be? It's just horrible... But Microphone knew she didn't have a choice. Or at least, she didn't have good ones. Microphone looked at Taco in the eyes, and sadly stood, and walked towards Test Tube.
"Good choice..." Test Tube felt a grin tug at the corners of her mouth, but didn't let a smile shine through. "Once you put T-3 in the operation room, please go get the others." Test Tube commanded.
"A—alright..." Microphone choked out a sob. She was terrified. It just... wasn't fair...
———
Paintbrush, Lightbulb, and OJ sat in silence. Nobody spoke a word, except the occasional cry or yelp of pain from Lightbulb. She was curled up next to Paintbrush. Paintbrush was completely okay with this, and even pulled her closer, or comfortingly rubbed her 'back' to calm her at times.
OJ looked frustrated... He wanted to do something about this but couldn't. It was making him angry. OJ was also really worried about Paper. Did Test Tube even take him? If so, is he alright?! Where WAS Paper? OJ sighed and leaned further against the wall. All they could do is wait. Luckily, it wasn't for much longer, because Microphone walked through the door.
"H—hey uhm.... I need you guys to come with me..." She mumbled quietly. She didn't want to make too much of scene.
"LIKE HELL I WILL!" Paintbrush seemed to disobey Microphone much more then Test Tube.
"Please... I don't want any of your punishments to b—be worse then they already are..." She said as she rubbed the chip on her 'neck' area.
"Punishment—?! I— OF COURSE! UGH." OJ mumbled angrily before he looked back up at Mic. "Hey. HEY."
"H—huh...?" She flinched and looked down at OJ.
"Where the hell is Paper... and where the FUCK IS TACO." OJ yelled loudly.
"U—UHM... YOU'LL SEE HER IF YOU COME WITH ME...?"
"What about Paper..." OJ spat.
"Uhm... I'm not sure about him..." Mic answered as she rubbed the side of her arm awkwardly.
"Are you KIDDING." OJ hissed. "Tell me RIGHT NOW!" OJ walked up to Mic and tried to grab her but Microphone caught his arm, picked up Lightbulb too, knowing Paintbrush would follow.
"U—UGH LET ME GO—!"
"Ugh... Just give it up OJ..." Paintbrush mumbled bitterly. "We're stuck... Face the damn facts..."
Microphone nodded defeatedly in response. She knew this was the cold blunt truth...
OJ was silent after that. He looked over to Lightbulb, who was making incoherent sounds as if trying to start conversation. But... it was only in bits and pieces of words. It seems like she can't tell if she's speaking properly or at least... She can't anymore... Which was... Concerning.
Paintbrush had this... Look on their face... they seemed so... Dull and sad. It broke their heart to see Lightbulb like that.
"How can you just accept this...?!" OJ asked as he stared at Microphone with a shocked face laced with anger.
"..." She didnt answer at first. She stared at the ground full of sorrow. "I can't... I just... Have to save who I can." Microphone answered.
"Really...? And TACO. You think is worth saving? MORE THEN US?! HOW CAN YOU BE SO DAMN SELFI—?!"
"SELFISH?! Ahem... IM SORRY THAT YOU... DON'T THINK IM TRYING TO HELP... But I AM. I SAVED Paintbrush, And I SAVED MY BEST FRIEND! I thought she was DEAD. I became this stupid lab assistant so I could HELP. And MAYBE I'll be able to make things BETTER ON YOU! IM TRYING MY FUCKING BEST OKAY?! So shut your damn mouth with "Selfish"... Because you and I both know that's bullshit..." Mic was pissed...
"WELL MAYBE IF YOU ACTUALLY TOOK A SECOND TO THINK, YOUDE REALIZE YOU'RE IN HERE BECAUSE OF THE FUCKING GIRL YOU'RE WORKING FOR!" OJ seethed back.
"YOU THINK I HAVE A FUCKING CHOICE?! SHE KIDNAPPED ME!" She began to clench her fist, tightening her grip on OJ.
"AND WHY?!" He retaliated.
"WHY DO YOU NEED TO KNOW?!"
"BECAUSE I—!"
"WILL ALL OF YOU SHUT UP!!!" Paintbrush screamed. Making everyone flinch back. "You're making Lightbulb cry..."
Paintbrush was right, Lightbulb had started crying, a lot actually. The yelling must've stressed her out...
"O—oh god... I'm sorry Lightbulb..."
OJ rolled his eyes and Paintbrush shot him a deadly glare. "What? If she realized the situation we were in and accept it if she wouldn't be so shocked."
"WHAT?!" Paintbrush yelled. "Are you fucking kidding me?! How would YOU feel if PAPER were crying because he was stressed?!"
"DON'T BRING HIM INTO THIS!" OJ screamed instantly. "Besides! ITS DIFFERENT! He would get hurt if he started crying... because he's PAPER!"
"Wow... favouritism..." Paintbrush mumbled with a bored tone.
"FAVOURITISM—?! HES PAPER! YOU KNOW THIS, WATER MELTS HIM!" OJ yelled in reply.
"So? LIGHTBULB CANT EVEN WALK ON HER OWN RIGHT NOW! SHOW SOME FUCKING RESPECT!"
"I'll fucking shove some "Respect" UP YOUR SORRY ASS!"
"JOKES ON YOU, WE DON'T EVEN HAVE ASSES! ASSHOLE!"
"THEN ITS GOING DOWN YOUR THROAT!"
"Kinky." Paintbrush smirked.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP! I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THA—!"
"CAN YOU BOTH BE QUIET?!" Microphone yelled. "You aren't helping..."
"Fine..." OJ hissed...
"Sorry." Paintbrush mumbled apologetically, with a tinge of annoyance in their voice.
A few moments of silence were shared, only the light tapping of their feet as they walked on the tile floor were heard, and the occasional sniffle from Lightbulb.
When they reached the operation room, TestTube was waiting for her. "Took you long enough..." TestTube gritted through her teeth, a bit annoyed.
"Sorry... I brought them T— ahem Doctor..." Mic mumbled, sorrow filled her voice.
"Good. Put P-2 on the table, and the other two with T-3." TestTube commanded, as she tapped her foot on the ground with impatience.
"Okay..." Microphone did as she was told, not wanting to risk her, or Taco's safety.
TestTube watched as Microphone slowly walked back over to her. "Alright... One moment..." TestTube checked to make sure Paintbrush's restraints were on correctly. And turned to Mic. "Okay... the first one is simple... Since P-2 decided to disobey and... Undo my fucking work... I want you to rip out their bristles." TestTube explained.
"WHAT?!" Paintbrush hissed.
"Shut up P-2..." TestTube sighed. "M-4?"
"I— Okay... fine..." Mic walked over to Paintbrush and looked at them with a slightly apologetic expression. "Sorry...? I guess..."
"Just get this fucking over with..." Paintbrush rolled their eyes and looked away.
"Alright...! You don't have to be rude..." Microphone said as she grabbed Paintbrush's bristles firmly. "Sorry if this hurts..." She took a deep breath and tore a chunk of them out.
Paintbrush screamed for a a good few minutes, Microphone winced... She felt bad. Even if Paintbrush tried to kill her and Taco earlier...
"Is this really necessary—? Can't I just cut them off?!" Microphone asked, distress flickered in her eyes.
"Well... You could, but, that wouldn't be an effective punishment now would it? Besides... this even gets the roots out, so it's more effective as a whole." Test Tube said as she smirked.
"That... makes sense in a horribly cruel way..." Microphone sighed as she grabbed another chunk of Paintbrush's bristles, and yanked them out.
Paintbrush started screaming again. It really did hurt.
Microphone continued to pull out all of their bristles until there was barely any left. Lightbulb in the background was horrified by Paintbrush's screaming.
"Good. You can stop now M-4." Test Tube pushed Microphone aside, removed the restraints and shoved Paintbrush, who was still in quite the bit of pain, onto the floor.
They made a sharp inhale and gave a bitter look to Test Tube while rubbing where their head aches the most...
Test Tube brushed off their cold glance and looked over to the others... she noticed Taco looked... Ill and drowsy... her bandages were REALLY bloody, the ones on her arm. She would to bleed out and die if she wasn't treated immediately. "M-4." Test Tube commanded.
Microphone looked over to Test Tube. "Y—yeah...?" She replied, as she slightly shuffled her stance to face Test Tube.
"I suggest you "help" T-3 next... she's bleeding out." Test Tube mumbled coldly with a nearly blank... or bored expression.
"W—wait WHAT?!" Microphone's head whipped to the side and saw Taco stare tiredly off into the space... seemingly delirious.
"Well?! Do you want her to die? Go get her... and grab the pliers when your at it." Test Tube demands.
"Pliers?!" Microphone shouted, taken aback by such a request... She was quite nervous since she knew Test Tube was probably going to turn this into a punishment somehow...
"How else will you pull out the bullet?" Test Tube replied with no real reaction. Just a cold bored glare.
"I— WHAT?!" Microphone jumped. "But I've never—!"
"MICROPHONE— UGH! M-4. GO GET THE DAMN PLIERS." Test Tube boomed, rage filled her eyes as she took a threatening step towards Microphone.
Microphone flinched. "O—OKAY...! Okay!!!" She shouted nervously in a slight panic. Microphone ran over and picked up Taco, untying her as she did.
Taco didn't respond much, just looked confused at Microphone and at the room around her, seemingly dizzy, or at least something of that sort.
Microphone placed Taco on the table and clipped on the restrains. The cold metal of the restraints and the table itself only alarmed Taco more. Microphone ran to the counter and grabbed the pliers.
"Alright... remove the bandages... then lightly wipe the blood away so you can SEE the bullet. Then pull it out..." Test Tube explained.
"But what about the bleeding?! And she needs something to numb the wound!" Microphone said in a frantic tone.
"First off... we're going to stitch the wound shut... and re-bandage it. Second, I don't really give a shit about anaesthetics... because... ITS A FUCKING PUNISHMENT." Test Tube slammed her fist down on the counter. "Do as your fucking told... or! You can watch your friend die." She gritted through her teeth.
"I— OHH! FINE!" Microphone carefully unwrapped the bandages and did as she was told, after she could see the bullet, she raised the pliers, and carefully grabbed the bullet.
Taco, who was already in pain, winced and was fighting back screams. She was in a lot of pain... and was having difficulty controlling her breathing.
As soon as Microphone began to pull the bullet out, Taco's screams rang out and filled the room. Microphone winced... she felt bad for her... Microphone tries to keep her hands steady but... She's not trained for this! She isn't a medical professional at all... how was she supposed to do this?! She didn't even want to! She choked out a couple tears as she finished ripping the bullet out of Taco's arm.
The bullet dripped with the crimson red liquid that was supposed to be in Taco's body... She looked down at the smaller girl on the table... she looked confused, and in pain.
"I'm so sorry..." Microphone wept sorrowfully. "I—I didn't mean to... d—do this... to cause this...!"
"Stop the tears and stitch the fucking wound shut!" Test Tube growled.
Microphone nodded and looked to the side to pick up the stitches, but she didn't have them. "They aren't here!" Microphone panicked.
Test Tube froze for a moment. "Right.. I never told you to get it..." Test Tube walked towards the place she kept them, and punched the bridge of her nose as she did. She hurried over and gave the tool to Microphone, who was getting a bit frantic. Mic was putting pressure on the wound to slow the bleeding, and was VERY upset with Test Tube for taking so long...
Test Tube shut her eyes, and the force of which she was using to pinch her nose increased. God damn it... why— HOW was she starting to forget things?! She hadn't been doing this before... it was... Troublesome. Test Tube knew it was because of her anger... The pure rage that filled her when they wouldn't listen to her... She was smart... she KNEW what she was doing. Why the hell didn't they LISTEN? Because it hurt? She scoffed audibly, which made Microphone flinch while she was following the little instruction notes Test Tube left for herself...
Test Tube's eyes were still shut to focus, so she didn't even care. In fact, she thought it was pathetic that emotions were blinding her... steering her off track. She needed to find a way to distract herself from it... She was smart... she'll find a way.
...
...
...
She flinched a little voice inside her...
...
...
...
Why are you doing this...?
...
...
...
Is... Is there even a proper reason? She told herself that it was to prove her... knowledge, no it was more then that and she knew it but... She can't remember why... it's like someone is told her to do. Convinced her to do it. But through words... or a conversation. A strong and deadly sense of curiosity... Who could've done something like this? Someone SMARTER then HER?! Her eyes open and she held an angry glare as she continued to intensely reflect on her actions. No... Nobody was just flat out smarter then her... That was bullshit. Who would it even be?! Taco—? No... couldn't be... she had too much of a raw reaction... Too much harm to her too. Then who...? They would move had to be someone to fool everybody for months— for YEARS. Even Taco couldn't do that... It would have to be someone who truly lacked emotion... even then that's a difficult thing to achieve... To act like you can FEEL... Feel for somone... Now that she thought about it, could it have been the person who they've relied on for years? maybe... just maybe it was—
wait... why is she even thinking about
this...?! She wasn't going to stop.
Not even if someone told her to do this.
Because she chose to follow through.
This is HER...
Right...?
"Hello?!"
"DOCTOR!!!"
Test Tube flinched back to reality and looked at Microphone who had finished stitching the wound shut. It was done sloppily... But it would have to do.
"U—UGH!" She said in surprise. She sighed and lowered her hand from her face. "What is it M-4?"
"I'm done...!" Mic mumbled worriedly.
"Ah... I-I see..." Test Tube slightly froze before clearing her throat. "I must've been lost in thought..."
"Yeah... Apparently I care more about this than YOU do..." Mic hissed and slightly rolled here eyes.
"Excuse you?!" Test Tube spat, as she let her hands drop to her side. Her eyes flickered with rage... Did Microphone seriously just—
Who the hell does she think she is?!
Microphone flinched, but didn't back down. "I JUST HAD TO UNPROFESSIONALLY STITCH A BULLET WOUND SHUT WITHOUT ANESTHETICS! HOW THE FUCK ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO REACT?!" Microphone shouted in fury.
"Well... This is SUPPOSED to be a PUNISHMENT." Test Tube replied bitterly.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP! You don't even CARE that you shot her! I didn't even do much wrong— I COVERED IT UP AFTERWARDS INSTEAD OF JUST FRANTICALLY TELLING SOAP WHAT HAPPENED!" Microphone retaliated.
Test Tube's eyes widened. She was completely taken aback. "Be happy I didn't aim for the FUCKING HEAD."
"Doesn't this seem a bit... I don't know... IMMORAL AND UNPROFESSIONAL?! You're pretty STUPID if you think you can keep us here forever without the outside world finding out." Microphone ranted coldly, with rage laced into some words.
Test Tube's fists clenched. It hurt from the fact that her nails had been digging into her skin, though they weren't bleeding, and she was still to angry to notice. Test Tube grabbed the collar of her sweater, to pull her in full reach before she slapped her, which hurt Test Tube's hand again. Mostly because Mic's face and whole 'head' was made of metal.
Test Tube watched as Mic yelped in pain and fell down. The small tap and skidding noise of plastic filled her head as she watched Mic's back shipped. Test Tube took a step closer to Microphone and stood over her condescendingly. "Don't you get it M-4? It doesn't matter how stupid everyone thinks it is... Or thinks I am..." Test Tube cracked a small smirk and her eyes flickered with sadistic excitement for only a moment. As if it wasn't Test Tube speaking, but only for a second. "Even if my moves are painfully obvious that I'm guilty... Everyone will write it off as 'Oh! Test Tube WOULDN'T do something like that! She's too smart to do something like that... she must be being framed!' Because they're all idiots compared to me..." She explained.
"Well, it wouldn't be a bad move for them to check..." Microphone hissed. "What then?! Oh miss GENIUS..." Microphone raged, as she lifted her 'head'.
Test Tube stared for a moment and chuckled. "The only person who knows about the secret part of the hallway... Is unable to walk, on the brink of shattering, and wouldn't rat me out anyway." Test Tube said as she crossed her arms in annoyance.
"Your logic has holes in i—" Microphone was interrupted by her being kicked in the 'stomach', she coughed after having the wind knocked out of her and groaned in pain after wards.
"Don't question my intelligence. I may not care what THEY think of it. But you...? I'm your boss... and you're a thing. Now act like it. M-4."
"You really are a bitch... I can't believe we trusted you! That FAN still trusts—!"
"DON'T BRING FAN INTO THIS." Test Tube boomed threateningly.
"BUT—!"
"HES NOT IMPORTANT. LEAVE HIM OUT OF THIS!"
"IF YOU CARE ABOUT HIM SO MUCH, THEN WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING THIS?! WHAT HAPPENS WHEN HE FINDS OUT ABOUT YOU. HUH?!" Microphone screamed as she stood up from the floor blinded by hatred. She didn't even stop for a second to see the rage boiling up inside Test Tube.
"..." Test Tube didn't answer yet. She was in complete shock... a state of fury, like she heard something inside her snap like a small twig in the middle of a dry forest.
"WELL?!" Microphone hissed, her fists balled up at her sides as she stood over Test Tube. Which didn't last long.
"Go get a knife." Test Tube commanded.
"WHAT?! DID YOU EVEN HEAR—?!"
"GO GET THE FUCKING KNIFE." She repeated in a overwhelmingly powerful voice, the room fell silent immediately. Mic pushed some buttons. And they weren't good ones...
"What the-?!"
"Go get the tray of knives, before I drag down Mephone, and cut him into tiny pieces, like you're about to do to your girlfriend!" Test Tube interrupted again with a twitchy smile, but the same amount of rage and hatred in here eyes that filled her face before.
The smile was fake. Just like her.
"WHAT?! BUT— N—NO I—!" Microphone was in complete shock, she was so blinded by rage she hadn't even realized what she'd done... What HAD she done...?
"Go. Get. The knife." Test Tube made it clear she wasn't going to repeat herself again.
"F—fine..." Microphone stormed off in a huff to grab a selection of blades off the wall.
Taco's eyes were filled with horror... She was confused and frankly... She was pretty scared. She felt she knew what was to come... She just wished she was wrong.
Test Tube's eyes were filled with hatred as she watched Microphone pick up a knife with disdain. As she saw her do as she was told she turned away and didn't pay attention to what Mic did besides that. "Hurry up... We're doing the experiment I was GOING to with L-1..." Test Tube grumbled, as she gave Microphone a cold shoulder.
"What...?! What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" Microphone asked confused and really on edge.
"You're going to cut off her arms. And then, reattach them." Test Tube stated bluntly.
"WHAT?!" Microphone nearly dropped the knife tray. As she flinched and stumbled back. Completely caught off guard. "Are you CRAZY?! I'm not a professional— sh—she could die- I COULD KILL HER T— ... DOCTOR!"
"I don't care. Do it." Test Tube commanded.
"You CANT JUST—!"
"I CAN DO WHAT I FUCKING WANT." Test Tube screamed in a fit of rage. "Now. Do. It. Or I'll simply kill her myself." Test Tube had a stern look. Microphone knew she couldn't get out of this by talking...
Microphone walked over to the table. The knife firmly grasped in her hand. She noted how it trembled slightly. She wanted to cry... But the tears wouldn't come out. "I really don't want to do this Taco..."
Taco gave her a defeated look... her hands tinted a reddish-pink colour because of how tightly the restraints constricted her arms.
Microphone looked down at the blade in her hands... and watched the clean blade reflect her face in the metal, as if it was a mirror. It teased her. "This is going to hurt you... and I REALLY... d—don't want to do it..." she mumbled.
Test Tube watched as Mic's hand slipped into her sweater pocket...
"Which is why I'm not doing it..."
Microphone lifted the knife and cut the bracelet off. She watched as her blood dripped from where the spikes pierced her skin. The Bracelet hit the ground with a clank.
Test Tube Panicked, she had no way of activating Mic's chip that attached to her neck since it only responded to brain waves that would trigger if she communicated Test Tube's name in anyway...
Microphone kicked Test Tube down before she had the chance to activate Taco's remote and then cut Taco's anklet off. "It was a mistake giving me a knife..." Microphone growled. Her eyes in that moment were the ones full of disdain.
"YES! OJ, OJ! Look! Microphone is winning!" Paintbrush shouted. Their eyes flickered with excitement.
"Wait, what?!" OJ exclaimed in surprise, his face shifted from a monotone and bored like look, to a more surprised look.
Microphone clenched the knife tightly in her hand, Test Tube quickly lifted her head off the floor before she had the chance to spill all the way... A large amount of acid was all over the tile floor though... slowly seeping into Test Tube's lab coat and irradiating the skin on her arms, but that was the least of her problems. "N—no...! NO! M-4! You cant do this—!"
"Oh shut the fuck up with that... You and I both know I can..." Microphone seethed. Her words were quiet but just as threatening.
"ILL BLAME IT ON YOU! ILL TELL EVERYONE YOU—!"
"So? I have three eye witnesses perfectly able to help me..." Microphone retaliated as she took a threatening step closer.
"Your fingerprints... are on the knifes... I wear gloves! Your sweater... ILL HAVE DIED! FAN!!! They won't believe you... especially when they find out about you and T-3..." Test Tube argued. She was scared... and angry.
"Oh so NOW you're willing to bring FAN into this?!" Microphone fumed as the grip on the knife grew tighter... her hands shaking with rage. "I don't think I need to hear anything else..."
There was a small clank by the door, and creak from the ceiling.
Test Tube backed up but slipped again. Her head hurt, her vision was blurry, and everything was spinning... She's lost so much of the acid in her head it got difficult to keep track of the world around her. The only thing she could focus on was the blurry silhouette of Microphone and the bright shine from the blade she was holding.
"What's wrong? Couldn't calculate me attacking you?! HUH?! GOT TO ANGRY YOU DIDN'T DID YOU! Well you know what?" Microphone chuckled bitterly. Usually she didn't get this pissed. "WERE LEAVING! NOW." She raised the knife.
Test Tube's eyes widened at the sudden and swift movement, but she barely had time to react until...
CRACK
There was...
Glass everywhere. Shards littered the floor, along with the acid that was beginning to irritate Mic's feet. But she didn't care...
Mic breathed heavily, and dropped the knife on the floor... it made a loud clank and there was a small sound of metal as it slid across the ground from the blade as it chipped, but Microphone didn't bother to look. She looked down at the corpse in front of her with tears in her eyes.
She couldn't tell if they were happy, angry, or sad tears but... That didn't stop them from finally dripping from her eyes. Her jacket was covered in acid, and blood, the smell and taste of iron was overwhelming.
Microphone slowly turned to Taco with a blank expression but tears pouring.
"You did it..." she quivered, astounded. And honestly, impressed too. "Y—you actually DID it!" Taco rejoiced.
"I... I did...?" Microphone mumbled... mostly to herself. "Oh my god..."
There was a thud that came from the ceiling.
Microphone walked over to the table and I clipped the restraints.
Taco groaned in quite the bit of pain as she sat up. "Th—thank you..." she mumbled. She carefully ran her fingers across the stitches and winced as her fingers made contact with the wound. "We have to get out of here before she comes back...
"Y—yeah..." Microphone walked back over to OJ, Lightbulb, and Paintbrush, she untied OJ first.
"Thanks..." OJ grumbled as he stood properly and promptly dusted himself off. He gave a cold glance to Taco, but the his gaze sifted as it landed on Mic.
"We can't leave without Paper." OJ stated.
There was a a sound that had came from beyond the door. Almost like a casual laugh. But the others didn't notice.
"I'm not sure where he is..." Microphone worriedly cowered. She still... Felt some sort of regret. And dread from what she had done. It grew especially overwhelming near OJ for some reason.
"I figured..." OJ huffed, frustrated with the situation. Though he did look a bit worried.
"This feels too easy..." Paintbrush sighed.
It sounded like someone was about to speak but stopped abruptly.
Mic was untying Paintbrush as quickly as she could. Microphone glanced back at Taco only to see... she wasn't there...?! And the door was open... Her head whipped back to Paintbrush and she started untying them more frantically.
"Microphone what's wr— OH MY GOD!"
Microphone was hit away with the pliers.
It was... TEST TUBE?!
"You bitch..." She said as she dropped the pliers and pulled out the taser.
"WHAT HOW—?! OJ! HELP—!" Microphone was interrupted by being kicked into the counter.
OJ took a step back intimidated by test Tube's cold glare. He realized how much of a mistake that was as soon as Test Tube grabbed his remote from the counter.
"No-nonoNO WAIT—!!!" OJ screamed, but Test Tube had already pressed the button before he could react, let alone try to stop him. He immediately collapsed, He tried to help with the remaining awareness behind the pain, but Test Tube punched him a medium sized crack zipped down his side like a lightning bolt and he collapsed back into the wall near Paintbrush, yelling in pain.
Test Tube turned back to Microphone before she had a chance to get up. "You wanna know how I'm here? You can blame the stupid phone for being 'Thirsty' on his way to the DOCKS!" She explained with a dark look on her face. She turned on the taser and shoved it towards her 'neck' area.
Microphone in combat, turned up her volume and screamed as loud as she could, it had made a small crack in nearby glass including Test Tube, and Lightbulb.
Lightbulb was more damaged and started to freak out. Paintbrush attempted to comfort her, but was too far, and was not planning to attract attention to them by speaking.
Test Tube yelped in pain and grabbed the part of her head that cracked, before her eyes shot open in rage and she charged again. She went for Mic's head this time.
Microphone freaked out and grabbed her arm, yelling as Test Tube strained to push the taser closer and closer to Mic's face. The sparks flickered and shot off the weapon Test Tube was about to use on her.
Microphone used every ounce of strength she had to push the taser back at Test Tube but as she glanced to the dove she saw Taco on the floor pet of her shell was burnt, Microphone lost focus for a moment in a panic, and Test Tube shoved the Taser into the side of her head.
Then it was over.
The last thing Microphone felt was a burning sensation in the side of her head... and stiffness in all of her joints as they felt like they caught on fire. And then it all went dark...
———
HOLY CRAP. THAT WAS A LONG FREAKING CHAPTER— AND AN EVENTFUL ONE!
Hope you all liked it!