Showtime Showdown (Reversed Story, BATIM + SB)

Chapt. 0 |☆| Part 0 - Saved but not Safe

No, no, no!
The rushed footsteps of a panicking bandit echoed through the mazelike appearance of the old Showdown Valley, walls of cardboard stood firm painted like a forest.

Behind him, slowly, unsteady footsteps were accented by the 'Thunk, Thunk, Thunk' of a scythe hitting the ground, in a sort of rythm.

The chase had been going on for far too long, the Faceless Bandit wasn't letting him go this time, and he knew it; it was either outrun the faceless fellow, or get all his strings snapped in one fell swoop.

And he wasn't too keen on dying in the middle of nowhere.

Still, all these paths seemed to be the same-- He yelped, stumbling over his feet, but kept his pace as fast as he could.

But, soon, the chase was cut short; Bandit held back a yelp, tripping over what seemed like nothing as he hit the ground.

"Shoot, shoot, shoot-" He hissed under his breath, pushing himself up as quick as he could and looking around.

Dead End.
In front of him, and to his sides, it was just walls; Walls and walls of solid trees, and the only thing here was...

A large, sepia-toned television...?

Bandit didn't have time to examine it, didn't have time to think; Quickly, he whipped around to get out of the dead end, and-

PWOFF!
In a burst of dark smoke, there he was.
The Faceless Bandit.

Approaching slowly, he didn't even flinch as Bandit yanked out his pop pistol clumsily, aiming at him with a quick, panicked breath.
"D-Don't get any closer, pardner!" Bandit shouted, stepping back.

"I'm warnin' y-AIEH!" Bandit shrieked as the scytheless hand swept out, gripping the pop pistol tight by the cork and ripping it out from the other's hands.
And, tossing it back, he gripped the bandana of the other puppet tightly.

The bandit kicked and squirmed, the faceless one lifting him up with one hand and readying the scythe as he slammed the puppet's back against the screen behind them.

Ah, I'm gonna die.. Bandit thought, wincing and squeezing his eyes shut.

Nobody's gonna know I'm out here, Banker n' Doc'll be stuck out there thinkin' I'll come back... what'll I do?!

Please, if only there was a way to keep livin'...

The faceless one seemed to stop, freezing as the screen flickered on behind the bandit.

I can't leave 'em all out there alone...!!

The faceless bandit let go of the other, stumbling back as he yelped and clattered to the ground before cracking an eye open.
"..Whuh...?"

And he didn't realize what was going on until he spotted inky tendrils escaping the screen around him.

One shot forward, grabbing the arm of the faceless bandit tightly as he quickly moved to tug against it.
Another snapped around his leg like a whip, and then another.

He heard an unfamiliar grunt, and a familiar shriek, but before he could run for his pop pistol--

SNAP!
Another tendril caught his leg as he tried to get up. "NO! Nonono--" Bandit protested aloud, scratching at the floor as he got harshly tugged back.

And, with a protesting shriek, Bandit was yanked in, the faceless bandit- from what he could see- being yanked in after near instantly, holding onto his scythe for dear life.

And they fell.

Through papers and planks, inkblots and past a giant pen of sorts.

Until they went crashing into a still, cold pool of ink.

And it all went black.