Sonic Series Fan Fiction ❯ Lost Memories, Reborn Evil ❯ Stain ( Chapter 11 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Lost Memories, Reborn Evil

Sholay

Summary of story thus far: Sonic is traveling with his brother and sister: Manic and Sonia, when he suddenly has a dream about an alternate past. This past includes all his adventures with the freedom fighters up until the incident on the ARK when they were swept into a black hole; only to be thrown back in time to a universe where everything, everyone, is different. Last chapter, Sonic woke up in a prison cell after he and his siblings were captured. He escapes, only to run into Bartleby, Sonia's old fiancée. Meanwhile, Shadow has caught the scent of Metal Sonic and is closing in.

Reviewer responses are at the end of the chapter.

Enjoy!

O-o.o.O.o.o.O.o.o.-O

Chapter 11: “Stain”

O-o.o.O.o.o.O.o.o.-O

Sleet and Dingo were walking the long metal halls of Robotnik's robot factory.

“Hey, Sleet…” Dingo said cringingly, looking up at his partner. “Dontcha think the Robotnik's acting a little—uh— y'know… Like…He's making all this new robots and makes everyone call him `Doctor' and he's been ignoring us… He's also acting a little… weird. It's kinda scary—”

“Dingo, shut up.” The grey wolf ordered. A fork came in the hall and Sleet turned swiftly down the left path, his purple cloak sweeping the ground behind him and Dingo scrambled to catch up to his long stride. Their footsteps clicked loudly on the polished floors and echoed around the empty halls. “The Doctor has eyes and ears everywhere.”

Dingo winced, curling in on himself in a cowardly gesture that ill-fit his robust frame. The orange canid hybrid's beady eyes jerked around the room nervously until they fell on a small, rotating camera attached to the wall. The red recording light blinked apathetically as the lenses stared through Dingo, then looked away indifferently as the camera rotated to watch another area of the room. Dingo passed a hand through his long yellow hair. “Sleet…” He said, and it was almost a whine. Dingo was desperate for someone to talk to and he wasn't going to let it go that easily.

Sleet sighed, closing his eyes in exasperation. “Fine, fine. Come on, follow me. Quickly.”

The wolf led the way through a long winding maze of halls and passages that confused and disoriented Dingo completely. Every long metal hall looked just like the last: panels of shiny silver metal covered the walls, ceiling, and floor; outlined in heavy rivets. Set at the point where the wall met the ceiling, on both sides of Dingo, were bright, tubular, fluorescent white lights.

And this area was only one wing of the old factory that was being renovated. The halls and passages were all brand new, barely a week old.

It was all only a small part of the changes Robotnik was making to Dingo's one nice, simple world.

Eventually, the duo came upon a door set so completely into the wall Dingo nearly overlooked it. Sleet struck the door with a purposeful shove and it swung open revealing pristine, white tiled washroom.

“Come on,” Sleet urged with an impatient gesture of his hand. Dingo, after a short pause, quickly followed Sleet into the room and the door swung shut behind them. “It's one of the only places Robotnik hasn't bugged.”

Dingo, hearing Sleet use `Robotnik' instead of `Doctor' realized the place was safe and he relaxed.

“Whew, man, Sleet. It's been like a prison `round here lately—even more than usual.” Dingo sighed.

“Don't let Robotnik hear you talking like that.” Sleet warned, pointing a finger at Dingo. “You know he's changed these past few days. I swear, I thought he was going to roboticize you when you tripped and spilled his tea that time.”

“Yeah…” Dingo thought back on the memory, remembering the look of pure, sinister fury on Robotnik's face with a cold shudder. He looked forlornly at his metallic hands. They, along with his left leg, knee down, had been partly roboticized long ago. “…Finish the job…” He murmured.

“You say something?” Sleet asked.

“No.” Dingo shook his head. He then looked around at the tiles and perfect whiteness of the room around him. It was so unlike the dark, twisted, rusty metal he was used to seeing. “But really, Sleet; what's going on?”

It was Sleet's turn to sigh. “Honestly Dingo, I don't know. It was like Robotnik just went to sleep one night then woke up as something completely different: this `Doctor' person. He's building robots left, right and centre… each one more vicious then the last. Did you see the monster he has in production right now? It has three Mega-K3 Torpedoes AND a level 4 Laser Cannon!”

Dingo gaped. He was in no way known for his smarts, but even he knew what firepower like that meant. This new robot would be able to level an entire city… easily.

Sleet ran a clawed hand through the silver tuft of mane at the top of his head. “It's like he has no limits anymore.” The wolf said slowly. “His habits have changed; his attitude…”

“Stinks.” Dingo supplied.

Sleet gave an idle nod. “And he's roboticized more mobians in the past two days than he usually does in two months! And it's not just that… I think you should stay away from him, Dingo.” Sleet looked up at the other.

Dingo looked surprised. He wasn't expecting this sudden bout of protectiveness from Sleet. “Why?” He asked, confused.

“Robotnik's been a little… irritable, and his moods are all over the place lately… And, no offence Dingo, but you tend to test his nerves even when he's in a good mood.” Sleet eyed Dingo carefully.

The canid hybrid just grinned sheepishly. “Alright, thanks Sleet.”

Sleet ignored the gratitude and looked away. His muzzle twitched and he effused a short snuffling sound. Dingo took this as a `You're welcome'.

“Hey Sleet, you've been kinda edgy lately. Is something wrong?” Dingo asked, figuring Sleet wanted to change the topic.

The wolf frowned deeply. “Well, I had a meeting with Robotnik a couple of days ago, you know that.”

“Yeah…” Dingo said uncertainly. Technically Sleet hadn't phrased it as a question, but he felt the need to answer anyway.

“Let's just say that if we hadn't managed to catch that thief bat the other day we'd probably have more bolts than brains now; and you probably wouldn't be worrying about your metal leg pains anymore…”

“…Oh…” Dingo didn't really know what to say to that.

“And he was really serious about it. That's what got me.” Sleet kept talking and he turned away from Dingo, folding his arms across his long torso. “He just looked me straight in the eye—straight, Dingo, he's gotten taller—and told me that I'd be a worthless heap of scrap metal right now if he didn't think I was still helpful. Usually he gets raging mad and throws a tantrum… but this time he was so completely calm… It was…” Sleet trailed off into silence.

Dingo tried to peer around his friend's back and get a glimpse of his expression but couldn't quite manage. From the tone though, Dingo would've almost guessed that Sleet was… scared… but that couldn't be right, could it?

“Sleet…” Dingo said uncertainly.

“Anyway,” Sleet turned swiftly and his expression was unreadable. “You know that they, the robots, caught two of the triplets last night.”

“Really?” Dingo was surprised. “Which two?”

“Sonia and Manic. Seems they were trying to pass themselves off as regular mobians and got caught by the lie detectors.” Sleet sounded a little sulky. Dingo thought maybe he was unhappy that he hadn't been the one to catch the twins himself.

“And Sonic?” Dingo asked.

Sleet shook his head. “I don't know; I didn't hear anything about him. But I don't think he was caught.”

“Oh…” Dingo looked down. There was silence for awhile. “Hey Sleet… You don't think Robotnik will hurt her, do you?” He couldn't help himself from asking, and they both knew who he was talking about. Dingo flushed, the red rose to the roots of his hair.

Sleet looked at Dingo closely. “Dingo, you know that Sonia is the Princess of Mobius, second in line to the throne. She is a danger to everything we want, everything we have!”

“I know, I know!” Dingo whined, not wanting to her this speech again. “But still…”

“Dingo, Robotnik isn't paying much attention to them right now. Probably because he's focussing all his attention on finding Sonic. But they will be roboticized, at the very least. You can bet on that.”

“Yeah…” Dingo, downhearted, hung his head.

“Oh come one, don't be like that!” Sleet gave Dingo an awkward slap on the back before walking past him and heading to the door. “When you're depressed you're even more clumsy than normal, and I already talked to you about that!”

Dingo, effectively sidetracked by the comment, laughed. “Yeah, hyeh he, don't worry. You can always turn me into a brick or summthin' if I look like I'm gonna do summthin' stupid.”

Sleet fingered the remote in his pocket. It was a device that, if used, had the power to morph Dingo into anything—living and nonliving. Sleet had no idea why or how the thing worked, only that Robotnik had given it to him—the same day he and Dingo had met—and told him how it worked.

Sleet had never questioned it. He knew from experience that asking Robotnik questions was a pointless and sometimes life-threatening experience. And Dingo couldn't even count past ten without looking at his feet, so the wolf didn't even bother asking him such a complex question.

Sleet roused himself from his thoughts and smirked. “Not like that would be a huge difference.” He said.

Dingo, who'd already forgotten what they were talking about, took a little while to realize what Sleet was talking about. Once he did, his face scrunched up in indignation.

“Hey!”

Sleet just rolled his eyes and, placing a hand flat on Dingo's back, shoved him out the door.

“It's not just me! I mean, since when does Robotnik have tea anyway?!”

“Dingo, shut up.”

Unnoticed to both mobians though, in a secluded corner of the room, was a tiny vent on the grouns. And through the vent, down one floor and out the connecting vent leading into a lightless room, there stood two hedgehogs huddling near the wall, avidly listening to the quiet echoes of Sleet and Dingo's voice as they flittered in through wavering wisps of air.

O-o.o.O.o.o.O.o.o.-O

“What are they saying Sonia?”

“Shh! Be quiet, Manic; I can't hear what they're saying. And stop shifting; I'm gonna fall!”

“Alright, alright, but you move your foot a little; your heel's digging into my shoulder.”

There was a soft rustle of movement, then total silence for many minutes. Finally…

“Alright Manic, I'm coming down. I think they left the room.”

There was a sigh and suddenly the support under Sonia's feet was gone. In the darkness, she couldn't see her hand in front of her face much less where Manic was beneath her. Yelping, she clawed the air blindly as she fell downward; but before she could hit the ground Sonia felt a pair of arms catch her deftly out of the air and swing her swiftly onto her feet.

Stumbling forward—and very thankful to feel the stable ground under her bare feet—Sonia gasped and turned around. Making an approximate guess of where Manic's head was in the dark, Sonia narrowed her eyes then swung out with an open palm.

SMACK!

“Ow! Geez Sonia! What was that for?!” Manic whimpered. She couldn't see him in the heavy shadows, but Sonia could imagine clearly enough the expression he was probably wearing.

“Don't you EVER drop me like that again, do you hear me?!” She shouted, hoping his ear was somewhere nearby and getting the full effect of her berating. “You nearly scared me half to death! I could have gotten seriously hurt! You couldn't even see me, how on Mobius could you have been sure you'd catch me?!”

“Man Sonia, I caught you, so what's the big deal? Back when I was little, I lived underground with my family and the lights often got cut or shorted out. I know how to handle myself in the dark. Besides you were getting heavy, you're lucky I didn't drop you sooner.”

Sonia's teeth clenched and she let out a low, throaty sound that was very close to a growl.

Manic, hearing the noise, wisely backed away. “Hey, I was kidding! Kidding! You take things way too seriously! Just… tell me what you heard Sleet and Dingo talking about.”

Manic felt the tension in the room dissipate and let out a breath of air.

“Well…” Manic noted that that was Sonia's thinking voice, which meant she'd let her anger go for now. He sighed, relieved: Sonia was scary when she was angry.

“They were talking about Robotnik and how's been acting meaner recently: building robots and stuff. They sounded worried.” Sonia paused.

Manic raised an eyebrow. Realizing belatedly that she couldn't see him he spoke aloud. “Sleet and Dingo, worried? Whoa, something must be majorly wrong for those to lunkheads to notice.”

“No kidding,” Sonia answered. “But we sorta knew that already. I mean, remember what we saw when we met Robotnik?”

“Yeah…” And Manic did remember. It had been a brief meeting: they'd been tossed at the man's feet and made to kneel while looking up at him. There was nothing immediately different about his appearance, aside from spouting up a foot and a half, but there was something deeper, something subliminal. Looking into the man's dark gaze, Manic had found his answer buried deep in those intimidating, menacing eyes. It was an aura that this man seemed to exude: one of power and arrogance. It was the way his lips curled arrogantly and he lifted one eyebrow cockily. It was the way he looked down at them, as though they were less than the dirt on his shoes.

And it was the way that he'd laughed—laughed—right in their faces, and shooed them away with a twitch of his hand—like they were nothing but children needing to be told to go to their room for misbehaving.

There was something wrong with Robotnik, Manic just didn't know what.

What disturbed him though, was that, in some ways, this change seemed to mirror Sonic's. Sonic also had changed, physically and mentally, and it couldn't just be a coincidence. But to mention this similarity would be like saying Sonic had lied to them… and Manic couldn't do that.

So he kept his mouth shut.

“What else were they saying?” He asked Sonia.

“Hmm…” Sonia started. “They mentioned another prisoner—”

“Sonic?” Manic interrupted, feeling an anxious twist in his stomach.

“No, a mobian, a bat, I think they said.”

“Oh…OK.” Manic was relieved that it wasn't Sonic. But still, to know that another mobian was imprisoned in the factory… “We have to help her.”

“Yes, well, first we have to get ourselves out of this mess.” Sonia's reply was wry.

“Hmph,” Manic let out a sound that was somewhere in between a sigh and snort. “I know.”

“Sleet and Dingo did mention though that Sonic wasn't found or captured.” Sonia said speculatively.

“Huh? Really? How'd he manage to do that?” Manic asked, surprised.

“I don't know. But personally, I don't really care how he did it. I'm just glad he did. At least he know he's out there and not trapped somewhere.”

“Right.” Manic agreed. “But we can't just wait for Sonic to come around and save us; there should be something we can do. But wait, was that all they said?”

“More or less.” Sonia answered. “How about we try our instruments?”

Manic thought about that for a second. “It's a good idea; but why don't you bring out your keyboard first? We don't know if there's enough space for my drums.”

By way of answer there came a flash of pink light so bright Manic had to avert his eyes. When it dies down he saw the softly glowing keyboard in Sonia's hands. The residual energy lit up Sonia's form along with some of the room around them.

It was a good thing Manic had hesitated in bringing out his drums. The room was more or less a small square box and, though there was enough room for them to stand comfortably, his drum set would never have fit the span of the width of the room.

In the now glowing, pink-lit room, Manic saw that there were no doors or windows in this box like room they were trapped in. The only exits were the small vent that was too tiny for even Sonia to fit through, and a larger square hole cut in the ceiling and covered by an thick iron grate. Past the gate Manic couldn't make out anything, it was too dark.

If Manic were to make a guess, he'd say that that was were they'd been dropped through into the room.

“Can you fire your laser up there? See if it can melt the bars or something.” Manic said to Sonia.

He heard the telltale whirring of energy gathering and looked back to see Sonia crouching down and aiming one end of the keyboard at the grate. “Way ahead of you, little brother.”

Manic groaned. “Guh! I hate it when you call—”

The laser finished charging and Sonia let out a beam of light through her keyboard right at the grate. Almost immediately, it hit the metal and, with a bright flash, rebounded right off it straight back at Sonia.

Manic didn't even have time to yell; he just threw himself at Sonia and tackled them both out of the way. They rolled over one another, slammed into the wall of the room, and fell back in a heap of limps and spikes.

“Ooh wow, thanks Manic.” Sonia moaned, pulling herself slowly to her feet. “I owe you one.”

“Naw…” Manic, also wobbling to his feet, grinned. “S'all right. Just never call me `little brother' again and we'll call it even.”

Sonia laughed. “Alright, little brother.”

“Hey!”

They laughed, but after just a few seconds it started to sound painful and forced and it puttered away into nothing; after which a long, awkward silence fell. Manic looked over to Sonia, who was staring down at the still glowing keyboard in her hands. He knew, and she knew, without speaking, that they were in huge trouble. If their weapons couldn't get them out then they had no backup; they'd have to just sit back and wait.

Wait… until either someone came to save them…

…Or Robotnik came to get rid of them.

A low, soothing melody rose in a smooth crescendo and Manic looked back at Sonia. Her fingers were ghosting over the keys and she was playing a soft melody in some minor key. Manic couldn't have picked the key out if he'd wanted, but instead he settled for just listening.

For a while nothing was said between them. Sonia played and Manic listened. And they stayed that way until.

“Hey! Is someone down there? Hello?”

In a flash Manic and Sonia were on their feet, looking up and straining their eyes in the meagre light to see who was at the grating above them.

“Hello? Hello?” Sonia called. “We're down here, we need help! Are you there?”

There came the sound of shuffling, then a click and a bright flashlight turned on. The beam flickered down and Sonia squinted as it hit her directly in the eyes.

“Huh, well, you don't look like robots, and it does seem like you're stuck. So I'm gonna take your word for it and give you a hand.” The voice, distinctly female, said.

“Thank you!” Sonia grinned. “That's amazing! Please, though, who are you?”

The light was set aside and the figure leaned forward. Manic and Sonia were then greeted to the sight of a very curvy silhouette, sharp, glistening fangs and tiny, bat wings.

“You may call me Rouge the Bat.”

O-o.o.O.o.o.O.o.o.-O

Shadow cursed under his breath as his foot caught, again, in an uneven patch of land and his resulting stumble nearly sent him flying off his feet. When running at some odd sixty or seventy kilometres per hour in a forested area a stumble could be potentially lethal. Especially when the momentum alone could lead to a rather unpleasant meeting of his neck and a random, conveniently placed tree branch.

Shadow cursed again, and slowed. This was not going to work.

He'd been chasing Metal Sonic for hours, trailing him and his army of robots undetected over miles of land. But then his old wounds had started acting up.

At first it'd been just a mere prickling around his ankle—Shadow had remembered, with some irritation, how he'd rolled the very same ankle two nights ago—and he'd largely ignored it.

But then his arm—the one the E-900 had nearly skewered—had begun to throb.

His arm and his ankle, both had been injured when he'd fought the robots in the forest the night before last. Since that fight, Shadow had not bothered to tend to his wounds. Indeed in the alternate past it had never been an issue.

Shadow never got sick. He never got infections and his healing ability was nothing short of preternatural.

He used to be able to go to sleep with numerous injuries—side-effects of the intense training he received on the ARK—and wake up with tender, but perfectly healed scars the next morning.

But for some reason, when time had folded in on itself and changed, he had changed along with it. No longer did he possess the skill of speed healing. Unfortunately, old habits die hard and Shadow had neglected the cut on his arm and his tender ankle, assuming they would just heal and disappear if he ignored them.

They, of course, did no such thing. And now his ankle had swollen to twice its normal size and his arm pulsed in a tempo that echoed his heartbeat.

He was loosing energy and he was loosing strength and he knew it.

Shadow scowled; and if the look had been any darker the very grass would have wilted before him.

“Master, Master! Is something the matter?” A small head poked out from the scarf around his neck and Suzu looked around with bleary, tired eyes, his feathers sticking up in all odd directions. “You were muttering strange words and you look kinda scary. Oh I know! I know!” Suzu clicked his beak excitedly. “You're still upset about not getting much sleep last night. You woke up way too early! Why don't you sleep now, like Suzu? When Suzu can't sleep, Suzu's mother used to sing a lullaby. Does Master want Suzu to sing a lullaby too?” The bird was getting more and more exciting with each passing second and Shadow had to physically put a hand over Suzu's head to stop him from hopping out of the scarf.

“Stop Suzu. Now is not a good time. Go back to sleep.” Shadow's voice was not loud, but something in the tone must have convinced Suzu because the little bird snuggled back into the scarf and closed his eyes without complaint.

Shadow sighed and looked around himself. He knew the decision he had to make and yet he still hesitated.

As far as he knew, he was the only one pursing the emeralds and Metal Sonic. He had no back-up, no safety net should he not get their in time. There was only him. Period.

But if he got into a fight with Metal Sonic now… In his condition…

He would loose. Shadow was not arrogant enough—or rather, his mind was too calculating—to allow himself to think otherwise.

Shadow raised his head and looked thoughtfully at the thick, wild tangle of dusty brown bushes and trees on his right. There was a city near here, to the west, he was fairly certain. A relatively large community: the city of Kelas—City of the Setting Sun—was only a few kilometres away. He would find rest there, and a medic.

But did he dare to deviate from his path?

He had no idea where Metal Sonic was heading, only that his goal was to reach the chaos emeralds. And Shadow didn't know how far away the emeralds were; if robots would reach them tomorrow or in two weeks from now. By taking this detour to the city he'd loose valuable time in his pursuit. Could he take that risk?

Shadow took an experimental step forward, pressing weight onto his swollen ankle. He then grimaced contemptuously as the ankle twitched awkwardly, sending a spark of pain up his calf and shin simultaneously. Skating was not so bad; he could use the chaos energy to keep himself afloat in the air and avoid putting weight on the foot. But if just the simple act of walking was this difficult…

Shadow frowned at this new revelation of his body's limits. He was used to being omnipotent in his abilities and stamina; this new weakness was disconcerting.

Nonetheless, the decision had to be made; and Shadow never made wrong decisions.

He turned, called power to his skates—which lit up, levitated him off the ground with a pulse of orange-white energy—and without another moment of hesitation, sped off into the trees heading west.

O-o.o.O.o.o.O.o.o.-O

`Must not kill Bartleby. Must not kill Bartleby…'

“Hey Sonic, old chap. I say, Are we out of this sordid mudpit yet? My feet are beginning to ache.”

`Must not kill Bartleby…'

“So-o-nic! Really, you can't expect me to step on that! It's all dirty and… rusty! Rust stains never come out of clothes, I'll have you know!”

`Must not kill snobby, stuck-up…'

“And really, what is with that morbid, black cape you're wearing? You look like the grim reaper for goodness sake! It's not Halloween you know; or is it for some other peasant holiday I don't know of?”

`Must not kill stupid, arrogant, smarmy…arrogant… stuck-up…' And Sonic was out of descriptive adjectives.

Honestly, when he'd gotten his memories back from the alternate future he thought he'd gained some wisdom and patience along with it. But either he was just as short-tempered as always or Bartleby had some sort of amazing talent in pushing his buttons and infuriating him.

Sonic was leading the way through the underground dungeon as they looked for a way to go up. Bartleby trailed behind him cringing away from the walls and complaining about every speck of dirt on his once immaculate white—now beige—ruffled collar. Sonic, on his part, had left his hood down and the goggles dangled around his neck. He didn't bother to put them on, figuring if they got caught his cover would be blown anyway.

“And Sonic, I have to ask: what on Mobius is with that new look of yours? Have your eyes always been that ghastly colour? And you do realize you're as thin as a rake; that's a glaring sign of poverty you know… Well actually, I don't expect you to understand; but I do hope you aren't forcing my poor Sonia to follow your diet. She has a certain reputation to uphold!”

Infuriated could not accurately describe the red clouding Sonic's eyes as he whirled on Bartleby.

“Ok, let's get one thing straight. I am the leader. I tell you what to do and you listen and follow it. Period. I say what we're doing, where we're going and when we get there. Your job is to shut up and follow me. I'm serious. I don't want to hear anything from you. No idiotic comments, no fashion tips or even a loud exhale; or I will leave you behind for the robots to find. Got it?” Sonic's eyes flashed and he raised one index finger as he spoke, pointing it directly between the mink's pale golden eyes.

Bartleby looked shocked, appalled and scared all at one. Sonic realized it was a fitting look for him. “Eep!” Bartleby squeaked. Then, realizing he wasn't supposed to say anything, clapped a hand over his mouth and nodded.

Sonic eyed the mink for a few moments longer, just enough to make him fidget, then turned away with a satisfied nod. “Good. I'm glad we could work something out. Now come on, we're getting out, but not before we save Sonia and Manic.”

Bartleby momentarily forgot his vow of silence when he heard this. “Sonia's here?! You brought me fiancée—” His mouth immediately snapped shut when Sonic sent him a smouldering look that could've melted stone.

“First thing, Sonia is not your fiancée anymore. Second, of course she and Manic are here; you think I'm searching this place just for fun? And finally, you just used up your warning. Next time you talk you will regret it.”

Bartleby opened his mouth, thought better of it, and closed it again. Though the look on his face showed that he was anything but happy about it.

For a time they just walked up and down dark, narrow halls and staircases in silence. They were steadily making their way upward while avoiding robots and open spaces. So far everything was going to plan.

Then Bartleby got bored.

“Oh come on, Sonic, there hasn't been a robot around in ages. I'm telling you they're all on the lower levels! Let's just go out to the main room and look and see—quickly—if we can see the top of the room. It's only a quick peek, c'mon!” Bartleby was one step short of whining and tugging childishly on Sonic's cape.

Sonic crossed his arms and shook his head. “No.” He said.

“Oh c'mon, you're such a paranoid prude. I'm sure I remember you being nothing like this just a few months ago. You used to quite enjoy adventure.” The mink, trying a new tactic, teased Sonic.

“We all grow up eventually.” Sonic sighed, refusing to be baited. Bartleby's perceptiveness did put Sonic on edge though; he hadn't known the differences between his old personality and new could be spotted so easily by a virtual stranger.

“Oh fine,” Bartleby leaned back. “Then I'll just have to—”

Suddenly a shrill waling siren pierced through the air and a light of bright crimson turned on above them before beginning to rotate rapidly.

Sonic stared up with widened eyes. “Oh no! The alarm! They must have spotted either your empty cell or mine. We've gotta get outta here. Now.” And Sonic grabbed Bartleby's hand in a tight, vicelike grip before breaking out into a run—practically dragging Bartleby behind him.

The wailing became louder, and was soon joined by the ominous buzz of flying robots. Sonic skidded to a halt in front of a large waste disposal. In the front there were robots. In the back there were robots, there was no where else left to go but…

“Oh no!” Bartleby, following Sonic's gaze had immediately guessed what he was thinking. “No way am I going down that filthy hole! It's a bacteria infested… awful, horrid—AH!” Ignoring Bartleby's protests, Sonic had thrown open the lid. Bartleby had reared backward, pinching his nose and waving his other hand side-to-side in front of it.

Ignoring the mink's antics, Sonic looked down the long, dark chute. Deciding it would be best to test it first, he threw a stone down into the dark hole. But the clattering it made as fell could have just been from it hitting the side of the chute. Sonic thought for a moment…a better way to do it would be…

Sonic grinned, tugged on his white gloves and prepared himself.

Then, in a swift, sudden motion, he grabbed Bartleby by the back of the shirt and tossed him bodily into the hole. The boy's high pitched screams echoed down the chute creepily—they were undeniably girly, which made them even creepier—and rising and falling, gradually becoming quieter, until there was a dull `poff'' sound and Sonic waited.

For a few seconds no sound came from the chute; and so Sonic called down asking how Bartleby was.

“Disgusted. This place is filthy, putrid and I can smell old socks. Does that answer your question?”

Sonic gave a bark of laughter. Then, seating himself on the edge of the chute, he used his hands to push himself into the darkness with a muffled yell—only just managing to reach behind himself and close the door as he fell.

O-o.o.O.o.o.O.o.o.-O

End Chapter

O-o.o.O.o.o.O.o.o.-O

And that, folks, is the latest instalment… and also a fairly long chapter—a little bit of everything in this one—so I hope you liked! Review!

Adio!

Sholay