A/N: So, I've decided to instead of writing only one finale chapter, I would divide it into two (readable) parts.
Hmm…Okay, I've decided on whom to dedicate this to! This chapter is dedicated to my parents/dogs, Vicki, SnowBunny90, and Presto (who's probably never heard of this cartoon series in her life but she's still cool so I'm dedicating it to her. :0) )
The Main Hall
Fillmore and Ingrid started to travel down the hallway, keeping themselves alert in case of an ambush. They were almost certain that they were headed towards the second floor; after all, the hallway was only going in one direction. Still, they were well aware of all of the doors branching out left and right and what could possibly jump out and attack them.
Behind him Fillmore could hear Linda's lingering screams continue to penetrate the cool evening air the filled the tree house. He dreaded that they might arouse the rest of the honor roll students and bring them straight to Ingrid and him. But no one had come so far, so maybe they had a chance…
Crack.
Fillmore and Ingrid whipped around and looked back down the hallway toward where the sound had come from. Fillmore narrowed his eyes as he searched for the source of the sound, but he found nothing. It must've been some of the tree branches outside…cracking. Yeah, right. He couldn't even convince himself that that was what it was.
Crack.
Another persistent crack cut through the air like a knife. Fillmore continued to watch the non-existent events going on in the hallway, as if he would get an answer just by doing that…
Outside the Treehouse: Rope Ladder"Hurry up and cut me loose!" Linda ordered. A male agent was hanging onto the rope ladder for dear life as he attempted to hack away the rope bonds that held Linda hostage. The boy hurriedly made pitiful attempts to cut through the ropes, but to no avail. The ropes held tight and simply refused to unravel. But while the agent continued to hack, the rope would emit loud cracks as the threads broke.
Linda was becoming more and more impatient. She willed to be free faster than how the boy could grant her wishes. Not only was she in a very uncomfortable position, but she also had to deal with at least ten black-clad boys and girls climbing over her and through the doorway to the entrance hall…
The Main Hall"Maybe we should start looking for more staircases," Fillmore suggested. It may have sounded like a ridiculous idea, but as a detective, he needed to keep an eye out for any possible way that could lead him to the culprit. Fillmore was clearly thinking that the treehouse could be built to fool any intruders looking for the head of the operation. After all, highly intelligent and cunning people had constructed it.
Ingrid sensed this and nodded; she had been thinking the same thing. She spotted a door in the wall, camouflaged cleverly by the wood it had been made of. After quickly informing Fillmore where she was going, she opened the door and slid into the once concealed hallway.
Fillmore pressed the palms of his hands against the opposite wall, searching for another door. He wondered how the agents to remember where all the doors in the treehouse were; it was extremely difficult trying to find them.
Crack.
There it was again. The cracking noise was ringing through his ears…
Crack.
There was nothing more annoying than that sound! It just kept cracking and cracking, repeating itself over and over in his mind…his was becoming dizzy, and he was becoming more and more confused as the horrid sound continued…he was overwhelmed by how hypnotic the sound was becoming, as the room around him became stuffier and stuffier and the cracking got ever so louder…almost as loud as the crack that sounded when a large metal something made harsh contact with the back of his head…
Fillmore came crashing to the ground as the hypnotic sounds came to an abrupt stop. Clutching the back of his head in agony, he looked up to see a black-clad girl standing over him brandishing a shining metal tube, much like the ones Fillmore had seen hanging on the rack in the main entryway. Behind her five boys and four other girls aided her. The girl grinned sinisterly as she looked him over in a vulnerable position. "Thought that after you'd taken care of Wincoff and Christiansen, you'd be able to go home free, didn't you?" She smirked. "You tend to make stupid assumptions."
Fillmore found that he himself had to agree. It was too obvious.
"All right," he muttered. "You've convinced me. This place is obviously too well-guarded for two Safety Patrol officers to get through without getting caught."
The girl smirked again. "I'm glad that we've finally come to an understanding." She extended an arm to help Fillmore up. "Now if you'd allow me to escort you to the exit, I would be eternally grateful."
"Whatever you say," Fillmore replied reluctantly. He allowed the girl to take hold of his arm and lift him to his feet. The girl and her colleagues then began to lead him back to the main entryway, but they had only gone a few steps before Fillmore had suddenly and sharply kicked the female agent in the shin. Howling in pain, she dropped her weapon to grab her injury. Fillmore whipped the metal rod out of the air as it fell and wielded it in front of him, for the other agents had reacted quickly and sprang at him with their own weapons high in the air.
Two boys aimed at his head at once with their metal rods, but Fillmore caught his metal rod in between them and kicked one of the attackers in the stomach, sending the agent across the hall and against the wall. The other boy attempted to hit Fillmore again, but he wasn't fast enough. Fillmore caught the metal rod that the boy had flung at him in the palm of his left hand, and slammed his first weapon against the boy's face. The boy stumbled backward as blood streamed out of his nose and seeped between his lips; he then collapsed, hitting his head on the floor. Four more attackers (one of which the girl who had hit him over the head) rounded on him. Fillmore took several hits to the head, stomach, and arms as he fought them off. He hit another girl in the cheek with such force that she fell onto the boy next to her. The two of them fell to the floor, unconscious, and caused the treehouse walls to rattle. The second boy in the group of four began to continuously hit him in the cheek. Fillmore retaliated by swing his rod hard at the agent's stomach. The boy bent over in pain, giving Fillmore the opportunity to kick his legs out from under him and make him fall over. Three other female agents and the last remaining boy aided the leading girl. All five of them swung their rods at Fillmore at once, but Fillmore ducked down to the floor and spun around in a full circle with his right leg extended. His foot kicked the agents' legs out from under them and they crashed headfirst into the walls. They slumped down to the floor, seemingly lifeless.
Fillmore shakily got up and surveyed the hallway. Ten unconscious teenage bodies lay scattered on the floor. Fillmore decided that it was time to go, before the agents could regain consciousness. But before he reached the end of the hallway, he turned around to get one last look of the scene. He smiled to himself. It was just like how a massacre should look like.
Inside the Clubhouse Office
Sticky Fingers heard an array of eager knocks against the office door. He sighed and rubbed his temples in frustration; why couldn't he get a moment of peace in his own clubhouse? Despite his exasperation, Sticky Fingers decided to give in to the knocking. "Whoever it is come in already," he called out. "This had better be important."
Instantly the door flew open and agent Scissorblade flew into the room, bursting with excitement and pride. "Sticky, you'll never guess what just happened!" he chortled.
Sticky Fingers sighed again. "I'm afraid I shouldn't. Why don't you just tell me?"
Scissorblade couldn't seem to detect the sarcasm in his boss's voice, because he rambled right on. "We've captured one of the Safety Patrollers, Sticky! She's in the dungeon room right this very minute!"
That was enough to get Sticky's attention. Immediately he spun his swivel chair around to face Scissorblade. "You have? She? My goodness, you've actually done something useful today! How the hell did you capture her?"
"We found her wandering around alone in the game room. We think that she was looking for another staircase or something to lead her to your office…"
"Idiot, she could've just gone up the grand staircase at the end of the hall…she's been tied down safely, right?"
"Of course, sir! I knocked her unconscious, and she hasn't woken up yet. Oliver and Fred are guarding the door, making sure that her partner doesn't come and try to free her."
Sticky Fingers spun his chair back around to face the window so Scissorblade couldn't see the expression of maniacal glee on his face. I've got you now, Ingrid Third, he thought. And your little friend, too.
End of Finale, Part One.
A/N: That's all for the time being. I've already got pretty much the entire finale planned out, so I should have that up soon (faster than how this chapter came up, at least). Anyway, I hope that you liked it…