We're All Crazy Here! [Creepypasta Fanfiction]

33: An Apple's Second Gateway To Madness: Blood Between Brothers

(Disclaimer: I don't own the song in the media.
We highly recommend listening to it for dramatic effect
[and to endure Smirky's midway ramble]
As always with music: Don't play it at high volume if you're trying to be quiet!)

A guard post; no guards.

Of course. The assigned minions were at the cafeteria-turned-bingo hall, where else would they be? Actually doing work? A laughable concept indeed.

A heavy ring of keys jangled in his pocket. Almost all bronze, one silver.

The silver key didn't belong there. But he had it anyway.

Lord Zalgo wouldn't be happy if he learned that he'd swiped it during his little agony act, but what the buffoon didn't know wouldn't kill him.

Everyone carried a set of bronze keys, however silver ones would open any and every thing on the dungeon floor. The minions liked eating these keys, for some bizarre reason.

So even if the prince of darkness did notice that his copy was absent from its usual place, it would be of no consequence.

Except for whoever got blamed for it instead.

Without a doubt, someone else was going to be beheaded for his crime. Most likely an innocent minion. Oh well.

What difference would it make? The turnover rate for employment was quite high, although no one ever left.

Humming an inconspicuous tune under his breath, Smirky strolled past the vacant guard post and into the main dungeon corridor.

He slipped the ring of keys out of a pocket with one hand (his other was hidden behind his back) and checked a carved number on this special silver one.

A-6.

A smirk tugged on the corner of his mouth as the illusionist creepypasta approached the door with a matching number.

Unhooked from the ring, the key slotted perfectly into its chunky lock, opening a flimsy mechanism with an audible click and clang.

He pulled it open; light fanned out into the cell and across the face of its inhabitant. Wrists clad in iron chains, Smiley couldn't get up or move from a far wall.

Although, far wall was somewhat an understatement. The space would've given any claustrophobic a heart attack.

No longer of use, the key found itself tossed carelessly back into a different pocket.

It was quiet.

So very cold and quiet.

Creeeeeeeak. The door swung further on its hinges.

Smiley sharply looked up and regretted his movement instantly. His shoulders were aching, begging his arms to drop down and relax.

Not that Smirky seemed to particularly care. Or maybe he did, because the first words out of his mouth were, "Shall I pull those chains higher? You look a little tired."

"How will that help?" The not-so-good doctor croaked, wearily resigned to the fact that he was well and truly captured.

"Well, the extra pain should keep you awake," Smirky said brightly, giving him a cheerful smile. With teeth.

Smiley let his head fall back, frame heaving from a long-drawn sigh. "You're happy about this, aren't you?"

"Yes, very. For once, you can't get away from me. Isn't that fun?"