꧁༺ 𝓑𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓫𝓵𝓾𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓰𝓸𝓵𝓭 ༻꧂

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 27

a/n

this is part 2 so dont worry guys. i remembered.

-------

The young man kneeled down in front of the slim gap. He could easily fit through, he knew that, but that's just what made it worse for him. What if he couldn't get out? What would he do when he wasn't strong enough to carry you? He was a weakling, not a bear like Chris! What did they see in him? The boy would slip in. Then what?

Winchester protested against it, turning back to face the older man towering over him. He almost shit himself when he saw what looked like red eyes glaring back down at him in the trader's shadow.

The boy gulped, glaring back at the entrance to his demise. He swallowed all the air he could in - his cheeks looked like a chipmunk's - and slowly put on foot into the open dungeon window. Chester could feel the slight change in the air on his leg. It was an uncomfortable change. He put his other leg in, the lower half of his body feeling the uncomfortable temperature covering him like a sheet.

He had the urge to pull his legs out, shudder and huddle up in the safety of his sisters arms. But everyone was watching. Everyone was relying on him to save you. What would they think if he dulled down his courage and cowed away?

How he hated being in these situations.

Chester closed his eyes, slowly pulling himself in. The bricks around the broken window pressed against his stomach in the worst of ways - not too tightly, but not too freely to the point where it made you self conscious and you'd think you're about to suffocate. He stopped for a moment, about to let out the most girlish scream ever when the dust beneath him caused him to slip on his back.

He yelped, falling down into the dark, humid hallway below. The boy landed in a small pile of old, rotten hay, which did soften the fall, but not the fear that arose from the jump start of the fall. A small noise of fright escaped his lips.

A voice at the end of the dimly lit hall alerted Chester, his eyes snapping back to focus, darting around to look for you. Well, he hoped it was you. He stood up, brushing off the hay from his behind. The sound appeared to be coming from the other end of the hall, along with shuffling noises, as if you were struggling to move.

"Hello? Are you okay?" He called out to the voice, hoping it was in fact you who would reply back.

"Yeah," you answered, "I'm okay!"

"Alright, well, I'm coming over!" Chester creeped quietly towards your cell in case of a nearby guard hearing him. Though, if there was, he'd have already been caught for shouting out. The young man could tell it was you when he saw scales - the prettiest scales he'd ever seen, and we were talking fish, here.

The sight of you in your true form mesmerised the boy. Man, he was a sucker for beauty, and yours was like no other. Your eyes looked even glossier as a siren, and your tail. There was no words to describe how amazingly glorified your masterpiece of a tail was.

"Do you know where the keys are?" Your question broke him out of his daze. Frantically, he looked around. He saw a row of hooks on a wooden beams, but no keys.

"Uh, no." Winchester said sheepishly. "I haven't had the time to look, you see."

"Oh, right. My apologies. Can you lock pick? Sorry if I sound desperate. I mean, I am, but I don't mean to pressure you. It's just really cramped in here, with my tail and all."

"No, of course. I get it. I'm claustrophobic. I hate, hate, hate tight spaces. I can try and lock pick. I think I've done it before. At least, when I was seven."

Now the young pirate had to find the right kind of tools to use to lock pick. In this case, being in a dungeon, a nail and an old pin should do the trick, if there was one laying around the place. He began to search each empty cell, dodging past the occupied ones, which were weirdly occupied by animals. Two dogs, six cats locked up in pens, a horse, and... a golden wolf?