Putz12 Plus One

THIRTY FIVE | EYE FLUIDS AND MOUTH NOISES

OR NOT. 

Alarms blared, shouting emerged from the halls, the sounds of papers flying everywhere.

"I've had enough of vent crawling, but this is way more dangerous!!" Putz yelled, sliding into the elevator with the remaining two. They couldn't imagine what would happen to Pheobe. But now wasn't the time. They had snuck in using their ink forms to seep into the vents, which were poorly secured. Beneath was the structure they were in now, a prefab elevator used for the members.

"She has to be on the top floor." Said Free.

"What about that one? This map on the wall says 'recruitment centre.'"

"Ew, it uses that spelling."

"Well what's wrong with it?"

Putz clapsed his ears and shouted, "I don't have time! I don't want to hear any of this! I don't care about your petty arguments! I just want my friend!" Upon saying it the doors opened and there she was. But there she wasn't.

Both Octofro and Free moved like lead. In front of him a taller figure. He couldn't see the face from where he stood. But that, in the chair with a long, squirming severed tentacle on the floor beside her, was definitely Iza.

Tears welled up in Putz's eyes. For the first time his hand shook and he believed to be powerless. He lifted his hand as he walked closer, Free and Octofro followed behind unsure of what to do next, cursing their limitations in planning.

"Not another step." Said the figure without turning.

"Give us back our friend!" He tilted his head, trying to see her face. Would she smile or cry? Why hasn't she said anything? Oh my Cod I really did ruin things. He inhaled, not letting his lip quiver or a tear run down. "Iza, it doesn't matter if you like me or not still. I'm here to res," In a hoarse breath he whimpered, and his friends behind him cried. "rescue, you. I'm here to rescue you." He knew then she no longer loved him. And yet her disappearing, through mind control or otherwise made his stomach churn.

"Oh," He turned, revealing his beard. "But she is not yours anymore."

"You bastard, you lying bastard!"

He smirked, lifting his weapon. Putz's hands went in the air. "Not so brave now, are we, twelve?"

The others exchanged glances. "What the fuck are you on about, how do you know?"

He smiled. "I invented the number system in the first place." He fished in his robe pockets for a document, pulling out the wrinkled paper resembling a permit. "How does it feel to be assigned the lowest number of the living invertebrate next to Iza? This makes you more worthless than her!"

"You piece of squit!" He attempted to pick up his rainmaker, but the sword to his chest had him still. "I don't understand."

He pressed a button on his watch, and out came holographic clips of Putz. Screaming, crying, tantrums and no-signals. Free and Octofro, in perhaps the wrong moment smiled and pointed. "Ohh! That's why he says it all the time!"

"Shut up! My streaming thing is stupid! I have a coddamn stupid table okay!"

The screens shut off and there he stood in confrontation with the bearded man. Waiting, waiting for Iza to say anything, even if it wasn't so nice.

"You have given up on your so-proclaimed reason for living, your... savage sport of celebratory death, Inkling."

"It's simulated death!"

"Disgusting. And here you are, arguing for it." He sighed. "I wouldn't put it past you."

"What is your point?" Free finally spoke up. "Just, take the rest of your mind slaves, give us back our girl!"