||OLD|| -FINGER PAINTINGS- (An II2 Story)

4: Sick

Paintbrush woke up from their rest, and sat up to stretch. Fan wasn't in the room, so it must have been past 9 am. They got up and headed to their bathroom, and brushed their hair.

A shiver went down their spine, remembering what happened the night before. Trophy was dead, all because of them. How could they show their face again?

"PAINTYYY!!" a loud voice yelled, it was Lightbulb. She was doing her normal wake up call, she did this every day. She went to every single room in the hotel and woke up everyone with a loud bang. It was just routine at this point, everyone waited for her to 'wake them up' before getting up completely. Everyone except a few people, OJ, Salt, Pepper, Paper, Paintbrush, Box, and Trophy...

Paintbrush left the bathroom and greeted Lightbulb, "Good morning Lightbulb." They said. "Oh god, you look like a mess, are you alright Paintbrush?" Lightbulb asked. "I'm fine, I just, couldn't sleep last night." They said. It wasn't completely a lie, they had a hard time sleeping after what they did. But they just had to forget it, it was in the past, it didn't concern them anymore. "Well then, c'mon! Everyone is out in the living room, this is gonna be a special day!" She said. "Special..? What do you mean by that?" "OJ wants us all to meet in the living room, he says he has an important announcement." She explained. "Oh, okay, well I'll be out in a minute." They said. "Okay! Bye Painty!" She said, skipping away.

"An important announcement..? What could that mean...?" They asked themselves, then they left their room.

~~~~~

"Alright everyone! Settle down! This is probably more serious than my other announcements have been. So please, nobody panic. Through my days of keeping this Hotel standing, nothing more serious than this has happened. And what is that? you may ask. Kidnapping." OJ said. Silence filled the room, everyone looked around, trying to find who it was. "Trophy was kidnapped, He was last seen yesterday heading out of his room and into the kitchen by Cheesy, his roommate. If anyone else has anymore information on where Trophy could have possibly gone, please tell me or Paper, this is a very urgent matter and it should be dealt with as soon as possible." OJ added, then he ended the meeting.

"That was, a lot less exciting than I thought it would be." Lightbulb muttered. "I can't believe Trophy was kidnapped, how would anyone even do it?? Isn't he the strongest in the hotel?" Test Tube asked. "Yeah, that is pretty strange.." Paintbrush said quietly. Paintbrush could feel Fan staring them down, like he knew something was off. This kept Paintbrush quiet. "Paintbrush, you don't look too well." Fan said, "I told them the same thing! Are you sure you aren't catching a cold or something?" Lightbulb asked, "I'm fine, there isn't any need to worry." Paintbrush said, standing up. "I'm going to the art room, if you need me you know where I am." They said, and quickly walked off, brushing anyone who stood in their path aside.

Paintbrush made it to the art room, quickly shutting the door behind them. They could faintly smell the stench of a rotting corpse, it hadn't been too long since the death, but it was still starting to stink up the place. They headed to the back of the art room, towards the storage, where the smell was stronger. Paintbrush had to prepare themself for what they were about to see, it was horrible. There was blood splattered across the floor, from where they didn't clean up, it was dry, so it wasn't useful to them. They looked around and found the knife they used from yesterday. They picked it up and stared at it, watching their reflection. The others were right, they did look sick. Sick and twisted, like a monster. They took a deep breath before looking back at Trophy, the knife wounds in his chest were already dry.

Paintbrush kneeled down beside his body, muttering a quiet apology, before beginning to slice Trophy's arm off. It wasn't an easy task, but it was easier than trying to do what they did before. It was all a blur back then, they could have died, but they didn't. Instead, they took the life of another. A small thud was heard, Trophy's arm was on the ground, separated from the rest of his body, blood was pouring out of it. Paintbrush picked it up and grabbed a paint pallet, letting the blood drip into it instead of onto the ground. How would they even be able to use this? They could try making it thicker and dying it, nobody would suspect it then.

The blood stopped dripping after a while. They set the arm back down. There was an empty closet in the storage room, they had no clue as to why, but it was very convenient, nonetheless. They picked up Trophy's body with the arm, and put it into the closet, closing and locking it so nobody could go in there. Suddenly, they could hear the art room door open. What time was it? Did Paintbrush have classes today? No, they didn't, nothing was going on today, everything was cancelled because of Trophy. Paintbrush peaked their head out of the storage room to see Lightbulb, they let out a sigh of relief.

"Hey Painty! You seemed angry earlier, so I brought you a snack, food always helps people when they're angry." Lightbulb said. Paintbrush came out of the room and pushed their hair back, that didn't stop it from going right back into their face. "Thanks Lightbulb, I appreciate it." They said. Lightbulb handed them a box of cookies, specifically chocolate chip, atleast thats what it looked like. Lightbulb had a habit of putting raisins inside of the cookie dough instead of chocolate chips. Paintbrush opened the box and picked one up, then took a bite out of one.

A wave of nausea flowed over them, like it was the worst thing they had ever had. It was just regular chocolate chip, why did they feel this way? They quickly put down the half eaten cookie and swallowed the piece they bit off. "Its...Great!" Paintbrush said with a smile. Lightbulb looked them up and down, "You should really get some rest." She told them. "Yeah.. I'll go do that.." Paintbrush said, then rushed off to their shared room and into the shared bathroom, quickly shutting both doors and locking the bathroom one. Another wave of nausea rushed past them, this time causing them to vomit. It was painful, like nothing they had ever experienced. It felt like all their guilt and wrongdoings were coming back to bite them in the ass. After a while the vomiting stopped, what was left was a teary-eyed tall brush. It hurt then, it wasn't natural. They could barely even stand. Their eyes began to shut slowly, and then they passed out.

~~~~~

WORD COUNT: 1173

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