Summary: Broomie goes on an adventure.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Ink cracked open his eye sockets, eyelights flicking to life in the form of a red target and green question mark. The rhythmic chime continued to blare throughout his bedroom as he slowly sat up. His eyes narrowed at the cause. That being: a blue-colored phone lying on the nearby nightstand. He groaned and picked up the infernal device. A simple look told him that it wasn't his alarm, but a call from a number his mind failed to recognize. A moment or two passed before Ink's curiosity got the better of him. With a single button press, the call was accepted.
"Ink, I need your help!" A hysterical voice shouted. The sheer volume made him pull the phone away from his head. After the voice stopped, the guardian cautiously put it back against his invisible ear.
"Wait, Sci- what? Why? It's," Ink glanced at the clock on his wall. "three o'clock at night. I should be asleep. You should be asleep."
"True. However, I was working on my multiversal teleporter and started a test run to see if it works. The only- Gah! Stop it, you foul creature!" More frantic yelling and an unholy shriek assaulted Ink's nonexistent ears. A loud crash sounded on the other side of the phone, likely glass or porcelain shattering, then a metallic bang followed. Soon after, Sci spoke, "Sorry about that. As I was saying before being so rudely interrupted, the only problem is I summoned a demonic eldrich broom instead of a Sans, and I need your help getting it into the machine so I can send it back from whence it came. Or, at the very least, out of my lab. It's making a horrible mess."
Crash.
"...Broke my favorite coffee mug, too."
Ink sighed, "Ugh. Okay, I'll be right there."
He hung up the phone, tossing it haphazardly onto the nightstand, and hopped out of bed. Then he proceeded to grab a paint bucket (which was left conveniently by his bedside for moments like this), using both hands to dump its contents on the floor. The guardian did not hesitate to step into the substance. Soon after, his body disappeared into the colorful puddle and reformed at his desired destination. Ink blinked. The sight of a disheveled skeleton and a messy lab greeted him. Papers covered in coffee stains/complex mathematic equations littered the floor; the substance from his unique teleporting splashed all over the sheets, ruining them further.
Sci grinned upon noticing his arrival. "Ink, thank go- Why are you not wearing a shirt?"
"Do you want my help or not?"
"Yes?"
"Okay. So, where is this thing you need me to catch?" The guardian glanced around, searching for anything out of the ordinary. However, only standard lab equipment adorned the room.
"Just in there." The lab coat-wearing skeleton gestured at a closed metal door. Ink rose a brow but did not question his science-loving acquaintance. Instead, he strolled over to it and mentally prepared himself for what could be on the other side. Just as his hand wrapped around the door handle, Sci added, "Be careful. We have no idea what it is capable of."
He rolled his eyelights and waved dismissively. "Don't worry. It can't be that bad."
Ink crept into the darkened room, quietly closing the door behind. A look around told him how violent Sci's weird demon-thing must be. Lights from various dented machines flickered on and off at random, likely broken somewhere. Scraps of metal littered the floor along with labeled glass shards from beakers, and pieces of porcelain that came together to spell 'Mad Scientist' laid near a wall. Probably that mug Sci mentioned. Or was it a plate? Ink couldn't remember.
He wandered further into the room with feather light footsteps and slow gait, being as quiet as possible. A shift in the room's darkest corner instantly grabbed his attention. His eyelights morphed, displaying his curiosity for all to see. Stepping closer revealed it to be a rather large, familiar-looking paintbrush. The guardian gasped, "Broomie!"
He excitedly reached for his beloved companion but froze when a horrid noise emanated from it, "Screee!"
Its bristles twisted together to form three makeshift limbs, which it proceeded to use to inch closer and closer. In the direction of Ink. Said artist's eyelights lit up in fascination and terror. Though, the fascination soon faded as the brush began to quicken its advance. A second screech left its hairy maw as it darted forward and shot sharp bristles at the guardian. The severed hairs punctured Ink's bones like fine needles, causing him to cry out in pain and eye the brush fearfully.
His Broomie, the real Broomie, would never hurt him. Meaning this crafty impostor couldn't possibly be the real one.
"Not Broomie! Not Broomie! I repeat: Not Broomie!" Ink wailed, spinning on his heels and bolting to the door. Harsh scrapes against the ground sounded behind him.
The brush-like creature was pursuing him.
'Not Broomie' lunged at him, flailing its bristly tendrils like Nightmare on a sugar-high. The guardian narrowly dodged and hopped a few steps back, attempting to distance himself from his weapon's double. A sigh of relief brushed passed his teeth when it whizzed by. However, unable to stop its momentum, the paintbrush crashed into a solid metal cabinet. An eerie hiss tore through its bristles. Chills slithered down Ink's spine while it screeched in rage.
This isn't going to be easy...
A while later, a squeak echoed along the lab walls. Sci started, spilling his coffee on the documents in front of him before turning toward the source. Shadows pooled out from the door Ink had passed through as it slowly creaked open. Once agape, the battered guardian hobbled beyond the doorway with a fistful of paintbrush bristles as his prize; Not counting the ones piercing through bone.
He stared at Sci, eyelights telling the tale of a frightful battle unlike any other. His voice held no emotion as he said, "Sci, erase the coordinates to that Multiverse and never - and I mean never - open a gateway leading there again." A shudder crept down his spine. "I don't think I will be able to fight that fake Broomie a second time. Not without getting perpetual nightmares."