A/N: You can skip this whole author's note if you want to because this note is pretty long. I know I haven't finished my other story, but I had this idea stirring in my mind for a while now. Have you ever watched "Vanishing on 7th street"? Probably not, because that movie wasn't the greatest. But if you have, this is a Laytonized version of that. I was watching the movie, and the whole time I thought, "This would be perfect for the Layton gang!" And for those of you who haven't watched the movie, well, that's good because you don't know what's going to happen. This story involves Clive, Layton, Luke and Emmy in that order. I'm not putting this in crossover because no one will read it there. Now, let's get on with the story. Clive is first up!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the professor Layton characters, or the movie Vanishing on 7th street.
Rated T for language.
Clive slowly peered in, and instantly veered back. He looked in again, this time holding his breath. He kneeled there, hovering over the dirty toilet bowl. With a plunger in one hand, and a cheap kerosene lamp in the other, he stared at what he knew could only possibly come from the backside of Satan.
"Hey, you done admiring my work? 'Cause no matter how long you look at it, you still gotta clean it."
Oh wait, Clive thought, it did some from the backside of Satan.
His cellmate, Doug, was laughing hysterically at him. It was Clive's turn to clean the toilet and Doug made sure Clive would have a tough time doing so.
"You bastard," Clive mumbled. And still, Doug was left laughing.
"Is everything alright, here?" a guard arrived and asked. The guard, Clive learned his name was Chris, was one of the few guards that wasn't a total hard ass.
"Yeah, everything's cool," Clive huffed, still disgusted by the toilet.
"Alright, but when you're done, turn off that light. You need to get some rest," Chris answered. Although, it didn't matter if Clive turned out the light or not, because the hallways of London Penitentiary were always lit and Clive could never get to sleep. The only place that the lights didn't reach were the corners of the cells, which, fortunately, the toilets were located.
"No promises, Chris. Tonight I feel like catching up on my reading," Clive answered. Chris nodded, and Clive continued to face the destroyer of noses.
Suddenly the lights flickered and shut off. It was pitch black. Chris immediately turned on his flashlight while Clive sighed and stuck the plunger deep into the toilet.
"Well, I should check on the other cells," Chris said as he left.
Clive resisted the urge to barf as he turned to look at Doug.
"This stinks," Clive said. Doug didn't respond. "What, are you feeling bad now? If you are, I could use some help." Still, no answer. Clive slowly turned his lamp toward Doug. Doug was gone. All that was left was his clothes.
"Damn," was all that Clive could gather under his breath. Suddenly, a short, cut off yell came from outside of his cell. It was Chris. Clive raced to the cell bars, but all he could see was Chris' flashlight rolling toward him. God damn, Clive thought. Abruptly, Clive's own cheap lamp flickered and turned off. He felt someone, or something grab him. Then he yelled.