JacksepticSPY (Spinoff Sequel)

Chapter Three: Jameson Jackson

Seán continued to crawl through the air vent. It went straight ahead, every seven feet having steel grates that gave access to the rooms of the third floor. He watched the live video feed on his glasses, observing the two men staring down at Jameson, who was helplessly thrashing in his the wooden chair he was strapped in. The two lunkheads stood proud, arms crossed, and having a grin on their faces that made Seán's blood boil.

"Which room is he in?" The agent whispered, determination to save Jameson coursing through his veins.

"He's in the last room. Straight ahead," Robin answered, "May I ask who is Jameson?"

"He's an old childhood friend of mine," Seán recalled, picturing himself in his early elementary days, "As a matter of fact, it's the first time I'll be seeing him in years."

"The question is why is he here?"

"I guess we're gonna have to find out. We'll get him then the BDSM device - That name, God," He cringed, tightly shutting his eyes for a second and biting the inside of his cheek.

"Dark's device is in the room beside the one Jameson's in. You could easily get there through the vents right after you rescue your friend."

"Got it."

He approached the vent cover that overlooked the said room, spotting fancy-dressed Jameson just beneath him through the vent cover's grills. Laying flat on his belly, Seán shifted a little and saw the two henchmen with their backs turned, now walking towards the door and exiting the room.

Seizing the opportunity, Sean pushed down the lid but grasped it in his hand, preventing it from falling to the floor some eight feet below. He then pulled it back inside and stuck his feet out in the open, carefully lowering himself inside the room.

Suddenly, the tear in his pants got caught in the corner.

With a soft whimper, Seán was flipped upside down. The added weight caused his pants to tear even more. He was dangling by a piece of cloth caught in the corner of the aluminum vent.

Jameson looked up and inaudibly gasped upon seeing his face just a foot away from Seán's.

"Hey Dapper," Seán greeted, "Uh... Spider-Jack to the rescue? Heh," The YouTuber forced a half-smile, feeling his face heat up as blood rushed to his head.

Jameson tilted his head to the side like a curious child, mouth hanging open and unable to answer as he watched Seán struggle to get himself down.

"These pants are nothing but trouble," He sighed, looking around the room as he slowly spun around like the toys hanging over a baby's crib.

The room was mostly empty save for a couple of crates stacked up in one corner near the door. The place was mostly painted in the same dull grey as the outside, and brightly illuminated by two fluorescent lights on the ceiling. There was a window, but it had bars roughly an inch thick.

"So, my old friend, how have you been?" The agent asked as he faced Jameson, his hand reaching up to the tear in his pants, "It's been years."

Finally being able to get a closer look of his friend, Seán saw bruises on Jameson's cheek and forehead, the latter looking like blunt force trauma. He was most likely hit in the head and knocked out before being brought here.

"Seán, you better hurry it up," PixlPit frantically said, "Hurry it up before-"

The door swung open with a piercing squeal.

"Oh look! An Irish Piñata!" A stranger's voice said.

The agent's heart dropped to his stomach, even though it should've dropped to his head since he was upside down.