TAKEOVER!: CONTINUED

CHAPTER 27: A Guilty Conscience

Conscience continued to rush through the thick forestry and sharp brush. He was cut and injured, but he didn't realize it until he felt the warm blood from his wounds drip and hit his flesh. After seeing that he was leaving a trail, he became non-physical, rendering himself invisible and unable to be touched or heard. He slowed down after discovering a trail...

It was covered in blood and scratch marks. He instantly knew he'd found the trail. He recognized it from the horrific memories he'd witnessed in those fleeting flashes. He slowly followed it, lowering until his feet hit the ground. He slowly walked along it and began to think of all the things that could happen to him...

He could be caught.

He could be killed.

He could be transformed into something helpless as he's forced to simply watch it happen.        All of these thoughts processed themselves as he approached two heavy iron doors, covered in large amounts of dried blood.

He deeply inhaled and prepared to open the door.

A loud, sickening creak screeched and echoed inside of the building as he winced and started shaking again. His stomach churned and he felt like he was being watched. 

He slowly walked inside and looked around.

He didn't notice a long, black object slithering toward him until a loud hiss erupted from behind him. 

He turned to see glowing red eyes focused directly on him. His eyes widened and he tried to cry out, but he was caught. Suddenly, he couldn't breathe as it wrapped around him tightly and lifted him up slowly.

Convict approached threateningly out of the shadows, chuckling and sneering.

"Well... the ghost has reached its final haunt", he hissed.

"I'm.. not a ghost... you discolored nimrod..!", Conscience breathlessly growled in return. Convict laughed hysterically and slammed him into the walls and ground until he simply passed out and his audible cries faded out. 

Convict dragged his prey to his cell, sneering. Then he truly thought about all of it... Capturing and taking the chances of what would be honorable warriors. Draining the fight in them until the fight was dishonorable and unfair. He slowed down and his eyes widened in thought. He remembered the look on Blockhead's face while he was transforming into a puppet on camera.

He remembered the last cries of the traumatized victim as he was already asleep...

"C-Conscience... help me! Pl-please!! I'm scared..! I'm lost, Conscience, get me outta here..!", his cries echoed back in his mind. He rethought the idea of capturing Conscience, but Piconjo was already at his heels and impressed with his capture.

"OH!! THAT'S A GOOD ONE!! Very nicely done!!! VERY nice! One who can become ghostlike in a flash... teleport.. levitate.. he's perfect!! We can deactivate that real fast... we'll put him to the same fate as his little friend, as he's the one who lured him here... he fell directly into my trap, and I thought Blockhead was supposed to be the stupid one!", Piconjo snarled. Convict tried to muster up a chuckle as he handed over the unconscious character. He watched in worry and regret as the crazed lunatic dragged him away.

Conscience was being dragged face-down... until he awoke. He looked up with tears in his eyes, staring at Convict. He could see he was regretting his decisions, and he looked sad and worried. Conscience shakily and weakly held his hand out for help, almost as if he was reaching out for him. Convict's eyes widened further and tears formed as he spoke in a weak, damaged voice; "Help me... Please, I'm begging you, don't let him do this to me... please, God, help me..", he choked and sobbed before fading back out. His eyes became weak and he collapsed again as Piconjo heard him cry. "Did you hear something?", he asked, sneering. Convict quickly shook his head, knowing that if Piconjo knew he was awake, he'd instantly torture him and cause pain. Piconjo looked at him skeptically before shrugging and continuing on. Convict got another thought... Pico.

The greatest fighter out of all of them, was shaky and weakened. He was cowering and hiding, not able to fight back. He remembered all the horrible things he'd seen in that room. He thought intently about how Piconjo used to be... a goofy, silly anti-hero that used to do no more than maybe indecent exposure and a couple fights, but never fates worse than death itself.

Salad Fingers; In pain and horribly mutating more and more into a terrifying beast he can't control.

Alien Hominid; Blinded and terrified, having to hold onto someone else to simply find food.

Captain; Forced to endure his comrades' deaths and weakly fighting to even move as he's constantly shocked by his own veins.

ENA, Cassandra, Blockhead, all of them... 

Forced to watch themselves twist and distort beyond recognition... and for what reason? Convict began to cry... he was of willing assistance to these horrific, barbaric 'punishments', and he was thoroughly enjoying it... up until this moment. He ran to the camera rooms to find exactly where Piconjo was taking Conscience. He focused on each screen that Piconjo appeared on, until they reached a small, metal room. It was a little over twice Conscience's size, very claustrophobic and dark. He stared in regret and horror, knowing that what was about to happen was only made worse by the area, seeing as how Conscience was claustrophobic, unlike Blockhead. He continued to watch, fearful and worried at what he may have started.

He created a monster, and this monster wanted blood...

A fuck-ton of it.