Oswald was starting to get worried. The search for Mickey had been going on for hours, and there was still no sign of him. The rabbit mentally kicked himself for saying those things to Mickey. What had he been thinking? Discussing Walt was sensitive territory for them both. Still, it wasn't like Mickey to get so emotional so quickly—at least, it hadn't been until recently.
"Miiiickey!" Oswald called out as he searched. "Miiiickey!" Where in Wasteland had that mouse gone?
"Oswald!" Gremlin Gus zoomed over to the rabbit. "We think we know where he went! He was last seen heading to Mickeyjunk Mountain. The others are scouting it out."
"Mickeyjunk Mountain? Okay, thanks, Gus!" Oswald instantly took off running. What in the world was Mickey doing on that godforsaken mountain? It was still as dangerous as ever, swarming with Blotlings and Thinner pools. Oswald shook his head. He'd ask Mickey once they found him.
Emerging from the projector, he glanced up at the mountain as Gus reappeared beside him.
"I'll go see if anyone's found anything," said the gremlin. Oswald nodded, and the gremlin teleported off.
The rabbit gazed back up at the mountain and sighed. Hopefully, Mickey had calmed down enough to listen. Oswald began to climb the mountain, looking in every possible hiding spot he could find and hoping he would know the right thing to say. But if Mickey tried to run again, Oswald was prepared to tackle and pin him to the ground, if needed. After all, Mickey's attackers were still on the loose and he needed to reach Mickey before they did.
Suddenly Gus teleported in nearby, his face tense. "Oswald! We've found something! I think you'd better come now!"
The rabbit felt his stomach tense and his ears began twitching; that was something that only happened before things went very wrong. He ran after Gus as the gremlin zoomed down a trail leading to one of the isolated areas of the mountain, where one of the gremlins met them. Oswald's apprehension only increased when he saw what the gremlin was holding.
"The brush? Why would he leave it behind?" His mind raced at the possibilities. Had something happened to Mickey? Oswald glanced over at the Thinner pools. Could he have...? Oswald looked away, shaking his head. No. He wasn't even going to consider that possibility. "Keep searchin' this area," Oswald ordered, resuming a determined expression. "He's gotta be close."
"Yes, sir!" Both gremlins saluted and moved out, investigating the area. Oswald gazed at the brush before placing it in his pocket. Considering who it belonged to, Mickey would never just leave it laying around. Either he'd just dropped it and been too upset to notice, or something bad had happened.
"Oswald!" The rabbit turned in the direction of the shout to see Gus waving him over. As he raced over, the gremlin looked up from the ground with a tense, anxious look. "Look... there was a struggle here."
Piles of Mickey merchandise had been toppled, their contents scattered across the ground. Many of the items were dented or smashed, while small blobs of Paint and Thinner decorated the ground.
Oswald's eyes widened as the realization hit him. "Oh no..." He was too late.
As the initial shock wore off, he felt a deep anger boiling up inside him and he turned to Gus with a fierce look. "Double the search parties and give everyone an update! We gotta find whoever took him before anythin' worse happens!"
Mickey groaned as awareness slowly returned. He started to lift a hand to his aching head, only for it to be brought up short with a clanking sound. The fuzziness quickly faded, and Mickey's eyes shot open. He began to leap to his feet, but once again he was yanked back down with a loud clang. A glance downward revealed the reason—chains were attached to his wrists, the other ends of which were bolted to the musty stone wall he had been sitting against.
Another look around confirmed what Mickey had already figured; he was in a dungeon. A movement drew his gaze to the bars of the dimly lit cell, and his jaw fell open. "Prescott?!" The gremlin glanced over at him, looking somewhat uneasy. Mickey stared for a moment, then his hands clenched into fists, anger replacing his shock. "Why're ya doin' this again?!" The gremlin looked away, his hands working silently as the sound of heavy footsteps approached.
"He awake yet, tiny?" At the sound of the voice, Mickey's hands clenched again. Sure enough, Peg-Leg Pete lumbered into view. Looking into the cell, a nasty grin spread across his face. "Back with the livin', eh, runt?"
Mickey tightened his fists, the chains rattling. "I dunno what you're up to," he said through clenched teeth. "But whatever it is, you're not gonna get away with it."
Pete laughed as he unlocked the cell door, throwing it open. "Big talk fer a pipsqueak t' be makin'."
Mickey glared as Pete approached. "What do ya want with me?"
"You'll see." Pete grinned nastily as he moved forward and detached the chains, snatching Mickey up in one hand.
Soon, Mickey found himself back in the very room where he had first landed in Wasteland—the Mad Doctor's old lab. All the other Petes were there too. Big Bad Pete and Small Pete strapped Mickey down on the circular table as Prescott moved over to a large machine that seemed to be a modified version of the Mad Doctor's old heart extraction machine. There seemed to be an uneasiness in the gremlin's expression as he pulled over a metal device and attached it to Mickey's chest.
"Just let the machine do it," the gremlin said. "It'll hurt less if you don't fight it."
As Prescott moved to turn the machine on, Mickey clenched his fists and braced himself. There was a click, a whirring sound, then a familiar pulling sensation began; the same one from when he'd been ambushed in that tunnel the other day. Frightened, the mouse tried to pull away and almost instantly, the pain struck. It was so intense that he couldn't stop himself from crying out. He could feel it pulling, yanking at his ink—his very life substance. Through the waves of pain, he felt the ink in his skin churn and begin to drip upwards. That was when it dawned upon him what they were extracting.
Prescott's voice came through the haze. "I said don't fight it!"
Mickey gritted his teeth; how was he supposed to not fight it?! If they removed the Blot from him, the consequences would be terrible—he knew it! The monster would come back and Wasteland would suffer yet again. He couldn't let that happen.
Gritting his teeth, Mickey put every ounce of his strength into resisting. His mind began to blur from the pain, and dimly he could hear Prescott and the Petes yelling, though he couldn't make out what they were saying. At that moment, a searing wave of pain struck, so intense that everything began fade away.
No. Mickey fought to keep himself conscious, gasping at the pain. He couldn't—wouldn't let this happen again.
Oswald paced by the Walt statue, waiting for the gremlins to report back. It had been almost an hour and there was still no further leads on Mickey. Letting out an impatient sigh, he began pacing even faster. Finally, Gus warped in beside him.
"Well?" the rabbit demanded. Gus shook his head, looking very worried himself.
"Still nothing. The others are looking for any sign of—"
"Oswald! Uncle Gus!" another familiar voice interrupted.
The two toons turned to see Gremlin Markus approaching. Oswald's eyes widened at the sight of the other gremlin following Markus. "Prescott?"
The other gremlin flew forward, looking extremely agitated. "I know where Mickey is." At that, Oswald's ears shot up. "He's in Dark Beauty Castle with the Petes."
Oswald's jaw fell open. "What?!"
Prescott huffed. "They wanted the Blot ink in him, but the machine's too powerful and those bloody fools don't know when to stop! Look, I just need you to stop those half-witted pea-brains from committing Toon-slaughter."
Without another word, Oswald turned and rushed for the projector leading to Dark Beauty Castle, with Gus and Prescott following. Once they arrived at the castle, Oswald turned to Prescott with a glare.
"Where are they?!"
Prescott flew forward, motioning for the others to follow. The group finally reached the heavy doors leading to the Mad Doctor's old lab; ominous sounds were coming from behind them. Prescott flew up and removed the giant locks and the doors opened with a long creak.
Instantly, a howling roar split the air, and Oswald cringed in pain as he clutched his ears. He looked up, then froze in horror. Sinister, glowing green eyes glared down from a huge, inky mass that swirled across the ceiling, like a ghost from his worst nightmares.
"Those mangy, pea-brained...!" Prescott's voice, both terrified and furious, yanked him back.
Oswald tore his eyes from the inky beast to the circular table in the center of the room. Panic filled him when he saw it was empty, but Prescott zoomed forward.
"They must be down by the cells!" said Prescott.
Oswald raced after him with Gus close behind. As soon as they were out in the open, the Blot roared again and a black, inky tentacle lashed down toward them.
"Look out!" Oswald yelled, yanking the gremlins along as he leaped to avoid it. It crashed down just behind them as he rolled behind a column. "How's that thing already so strong?"
Gus shook his head and rolled up his sleeves. "We don't have time to figure that out now. You two get going... I'll distract him!" Oswald opened his mouth to protest, but the gremlin had already teleported to a nearby balcony. "Hey ugly! Over here!"
As soon as the Blot looked his way, he teleported to another spot, keeping it turned away. Oswald raced across the chamber toward the large window; unknown to many Toons, the platform underneath hid the entrance to the castle's dungeon. Oswald had closed it up long ago, before many had arrived in Wasteland. When they reached it, he saw that some of the beams had been moved, making a clear path to the big iron door.
Oswald yanked it open and sprinted down the steps, shivering at the slight chill when they reached the bottom. It was a typical dungeon, dank and gloomy, the only light coming from the torches lining the stone walls.
"H-Hey!" The rabbit clenched his fists and whirled around, only to be met with one of the most incredibly pathetic sights he'd ever seen. Cowering in a nearby cell were the Petes, looking like frightened little kids who had just opened a tiger's cage at the zoo. Ha! Here, he'd expected a fight, but low and behold, they'd already jailed themselves! If he hadn't been so angry, he'd have busted a gut cackling at the situation. "Y-Yuh gotta get us outta here!" Small Pete sputtered. "We been down here since—"
Oswald silenced them with a spine-chilling glare. "You'll be wishin' you were still down here by the time I'm done with you!"
Then, spotting a slumped figure in a nearby cell, Oswald raced over to it. "Mickey!" Mickey was lying on the floor inside, his hands chained behind his back. He looked horrible: battered, sick, and obviously in pain. Oswald yanked at the cell door with all his might, but it wouldn't budge. Oswald clutched the bars, almost speechless with shock. "What..." He whirled around, his eyes burning with a rage that made the Petes' ink run cold. "...did you do to him?!"
Peteronic began stuttering, but a harsh creak interrupted him as Prescott unlocked and pulled open Mickey's cell door. Oswald shoved past him in his hurry to get in and over to Mickey. Kneeling beside him, he grabbed the mouse's shoulders and shook him.
"Mickey! Hey, wake up!"
Mickey's ears twitched at the familiar voice. He groaned weakly and started to lift his head. "O-... Os...?"
Oswald's worried look softened into a small smile. He gently pushed Mickey up into a sitting position, letting the mouse lean against him. "Yeah, it's me. Don't worry, I'm gonna getcha outta here."
Mickey started to answer but groaned again as a sharp wave of pain shot through him. Prescott zoomed in, giving a frown. "He doesn't look good."
Oswald's face twisted with concern, but he quickly focused on Mickey's chains and detached an ear. Morphing one end into a key, he inserted it into the lock and carefully jiggled it a few times. His efforts were rewarded with a satisfying click, and the lock sprang open. As he removed the chains, Oswald noticed heavy bruises on Mickey's wrists. A glance revealed the same thing on his ankles. Whatever they had done, Mickey had fought it, and fought hard. Oswald's anger flared again and he shot the Petes another venomous look, but managed to keep his voice calm.
"Okay, just take it easy..." Almost that same moment, the ground and walls suddenly shook.
"We need to get out of here!" said Prescott.
Wasting no time, Oswald hoisted Mickey up over his shoulder and started running for the exit.
"Hey, wait fer us!" Petetronic called. "We're stuck in here n' we dropped th' keys!"
Oswald glared at him, then let out an annoyed huff. "Fine." Reluctantly, he used his rabbit ear to unlock the cell door. "I'm not keepin' an eye on you, so ya better keep up!" Oswald snapped.
Soon, they all emerged from the dungeon and back into the Mad Doctor's old lab where the Blot was continuing to wreak havoc. Gus was still teleporting from place to place, but the alarm on his face was much more pronounced. Oswald waved at the gremlin, then motioned to one of the small rooms attached to the main chamber before rushing into it, followed by the others. Once they were safely out of sight, Oswald knelt and set Mickey down. With one arm, he held him up in a sitting position while reaching for the brush with the other.
"Here, this should make ya feel better." He pointed the brush at Mickey's chest and unleashed a steady stream of Paint.
Finally Mickey groaned and opened his eyes, looking up. Everything was blurred and the only thing he could make out was Oswald's worried face. "W-What... what h-happened..." Suddenly alarm filled his eyes. "Th-... Th' Blot..."
Gus teleported into the room, breathing hard. "I can't keep it distracted much longer!" He saw Mickey and his eyes went wide. "Mickey!"
The mouse didn't seem to hear. He closed his eyes, his face falling. "No... I-I tried..." A harsh cough cut him off, and Gus zoomed over.
"This looks bad," Gus said grimly. "We'll need the Mad Doctor's help."
"Mickey!" Oswald shook him again and blasted him with more Paint, but with little effect. "Don't worry, you just stay here and I'll take care of it." He stopped the Paint and gently laid Mickey back, then looked at the gremlins. "Watch him for me!" He then rushed back into the lab, brush in hand.
"Wait!" Oswald glanced behind him to see Prescott rushing up.
"The Blot's able to sustain itself now, and it's feeding on his pain along with the generator's power. We have to bring it down before it gets too strong! If I shut down the generator, it should give you the advantage."
Oswald was startled for a moment, then shook it off. "Get to the Mad Doc first! Tell him we need help! Hurry!"
Prescott nodded and teleported off in search of the Mad Doctor. As Gus sat next to Mickey, Oswald began heading out again. "Oswald! What are you doing?" Gus called out.
"Whatever I can!" Oswald shouted back.
The Blot turned, its green eyes burning with malice, and let out a snarl that echoed through the chamber. Oswald clenched his teeth and tightened his hold on the brush, ordering himself not to give in to the terrible fear and freeze.
"C'mon!" he yelled, pointing the brush. "Just try me!"
The large, inky claws slashed out again, so fast they were a blur. Oswald jumped back and yelped as they scraped his chest, forcing him back into an alcove. He grunted as he rubbed the scratches, recovering from the blow. Luckily, they weren't deep, but boy, was that thing fast! How could he possibly get on the offensive without being taken out? Still, he had to find a way. This monster's return was what Mickey had been so afraid of all this time. He had to do this, for his brother.
He jumped out and shot some Thinner at the Blot. It roared and swiped at him, forcing Oswald to dodge and run again before he could see if he'd done any damage.
"Oswald!" The rabbit looked up in shock as Prescott appeared on a nearby balcony. "Hey! Over here!" the gremlin yelled. The Blot turned and charged, but Prescott quickly disappeared and popped up right next to Oswald. "The Doctor needs to gather equipment, but more help's on the way. I need time to shut down the generator, so don't be a fool and try to attack, just keep him busy!"
"That shouldn't be too hard," Oswald remarked sarcastically as he dodged another incoming attack. "Hey, Inkface! Try an' catch me!" Oswald shouted up to the Blot as he took off at full speed, running and hopping all around the room. Meanwhile, Prescott was working frantically to shut down the generator, pressing buttons and switches so fast, his hands were almost a blur.
Oswald continued to run and dodge whilst Prescott worked. Suits of armor went flying and pieces of rubble rained down as the Blot continued its string of ruthless attacks. "Are ya done YET?!" Oswald shouted to the gremlin as he narrowly dodged a few falling boulders.
"Just one more adjustment!" A few moments later, a loud clanking sound echoed through the chamber. The Blot suddenly stopped and began to writhe, snarling and groaning.
"It's down!" Prescott yelled.
Oswald grinned, but his relief was shattered by a bone-shaking howl of rage. The Blot began slashing its inky claws in a violent frenzy, shrieking all the while. It didn't seem to care what it hit.
"Cripes!" Oswald yelped, dodging. "I thought that was s'posed to HELP!"
Prescott suddenly appeared beside him. "It's lost a lot of power without the generator, and getting desperate." He grunted in annoyance. "Look, I'll just try and draw him so you can get a shot."
Oswald nodded, but before the gremlin could teleport again the Blot smashed a section of the wall, right above the doorway of the small room where Gus and Mickey were. The stones began to creak and groan from the stress. Seeing where the Blot had struck, Oswald's ears shot up and his eyes widened in alarm.
"Mickey! Gus!" he yelped as he sped toward the entrance. Once he got inside, the walls and ceiling were already starting to crumble; dust and small stones raining down. Mickey was struggling to get up, while Gus did his best to help him. Oswald ran over and snatched him up, knowing Gus could teleport himself to safety. "Hurry! It's gonna cave in!" They barely leaped out before the ceiling finally caved in, blocking the doorway.
"Easy, I've got ya," Oswald murmured, holding the mouse protectively against his chest as he watched the Blot's erratic movements carefully. He had to stop it as soon as possible, but now there was the added issue of getting Mickey to safety first. As he waited for an opportunity, he used the brush to spray more Paint into Mickey, hoping it would heal him enough to be able to walk.
Mickey felt some of the pain fade, but he knew he was still too weak. He'd slow them down, and things would only get worse.
"O-Os... you gotta..." He bit back a cough. "Y' gotta g-get outta here."
"No," Oswald said firmly. "Don't you even start with that.'"
Gus zoomed up with Prescott close behind. "If we keep him busy, can you get him out of here?"
Oswald nodded firmly. "Yeah. Thanks." As soon as the gremlins warped off, Oswald glanced at Mickey. Knowing there was no use arguing, the mouse nodded.
With a huff of exertion, he heaved Mickey up over his shoulder and took off at a brisk pace up the nearest staircase. He hadn't gotten very far when suddenly a boulder crashed into the stairs ahead of him. He skidded to a stop as part of the staircase collapsed in front of him. Oswald quickly scanned the area and soon spotted several stacks of rubble close enough for him to jump across.
"Alright, hold on tight!" he said right before he ran and leapt across the towers of rubble. Burning pain stabbed through Mickey's chest with each jolt and he clenched his teeth, whimpering as he forced himself not to cry out. "Hang in there," he heard Oswald urge. "Not much further now."
Finally, they reached solid ground again and Oswald hesitated. "You all right?"
Mickey took a deep, shaking breath and nodded. "Y-Yeah." A sudden movement nearby caught his attention, and he gasped in horror. The Blot was heading right for them! "Oswald! L-Look out!"
By the time Oswald saw it coming, there was no time to dodge. In the split second he had, he turned and shielded Mickey with his body, bracing himself. Thinner-laced claws raked his back, and though he clenched his teeth, he still let out a yelp of pain. The traces of Thinner made the wound burn and ooze small amounts of his black ink.
The Blot swatted at the gremlins, who were desperately trying to distract it, then headed for the two brothers again. With all the strength he had left, Mickey forced himself up and shoved Oswald away as hard as he could. Still in shock from the pain, Oswald easily toppled over from the push. Confused, he glanced over at Mickey, only to see an inky hand wrapping around him.
"Mickey!" The pain forgotten, Oswald scrambled to his feet. As the hand began to pull away, the rabbit dove at it, just barely managing to catch the edge of the inky fist as it lifted into the air. He clung on with all his might, but it only took the Blot a few flicks of the wrist to throw him off and send him careening into a wall, where he slumped to the floor with a groan. A gleeful snarl from the Blot made Oswald look up. With an almost mocking grin, it tightened its fist around the mouse.
Mickey screamed in pain as his ink began draining away. He tried to struggle, but a nauseating wave of dizziness struck him, then everything went black. Below, Oswald stared in horror as Mickey went limp in the Blot's fist.
"NO!" Oswald leapt to his feet, pulled out the brush, and fired at the Blot, unleashing a massive wave of Thinner.
The monster shrieked as the Thinner struck, dull green stains spreading across its inky form. Prescott and Gus bravely zoomed around the Blot's head, shouting and drawing its attention long enough for Oswald to leap back across the ruined staircase. He had to find a way to get to the upper level, where he could get a clear shot at the mouth. He leapt and hovered with his ears several times, landing on any higher platform he could find until suddenly, he hit a dead end. He was stumped for a moment until he suddenly remembered the extent of the brush's capabilities. He fired Paint at the empty cliff in front of him, causing several platforms to materialize, then quickly leapt across them and continued making his way up the stairs. Seeing another dead end coming, he wasted no time and repeated the process as he ran, hopping across the new platforms.
The Blot tried to grab him, but Oswald dodged easily. His fury and determination seemed to charge him like a battery. Being careful not to hit the fist holding Mickey, he shot another burst of Thinner. The Blot howled in anger and drew back, clawing at the spot. Seeing his opportunity, Oswald quickly leapt from the highest ledge and dove directly at the Blot, using his ears to hover right in front of its inky face. He focused all his energy, all his rage into the brush's magic power, rapidly forming a massive ball of Thinner, then swung the brush as hard as he could, shooting it directly into the Blot's mouth. The monster let out a horrible shriek that Oswald was sure could be heard from Mean Street, ink gurgling in its throat. As its free hand raked at its melting face, Thinner began seeping through the growing cracks in its ink.
Oswald's eyes immediately snapped to its other fist. "Mickey!" He hovered up a little higher and dropped onto the fist as it passed. Grabbing Mickey's arm, he pulled, but the Blot wasn't willing to give up its victim so easily. Oswald pulled harder and harder, grunting in frustration. "Agh, let go!" He yanked out the brush again and fired blasts of Thinner at the giant fingers. As the fingers sizzled, the Blot let out another ear-piercing shriek and whipped its hand back. Oswald's sensitive ears ached from the shriek, but he ignored it and clung as tightly as he could to the mouse.
"If ya want me t' let go, you'll hafta let go!" he snarled.
Suddenly a small blur shot past them and slammed against the Blot's wrist. Oswald's eyes widened.
"Prescott?!"
"Go!" the gremlin yelled.
Snapping out of his trance, Oswald realized the Blot's grip had loosened. Gritting his teeth, the rabbit yanked as hard as he could on Mickey until the mouse suddenly broke free, sending them both plummeting to the ground. Oswald managed to right himself in mid-air, grabbing ahold of Mickey as he spun his helicopter ears to slow their descent. Once they were close to the ground, Oswald collapsed, panting heavily, one arm still wrapped around Mickey.
From somewhere above, the Blot's wild, desperate shrieks broke through his exhausted haze. Oswald looked up and his eyes widened. The Blot was slowly melting, howling all the while. As it dissolved into nothingness, droplets of excess Thinner and Ink sprinkled down from it. Quick to react, Oswald scrambled over Mickey and shielded him, clenching his teeth as just a few of the tiny drops singed his back. Just a few seconds later, it was over, and Oswald let out a long sigh of relief.
"We did it." He sat up, a tired smile spreading across his face. "Mick, it's—" He stopped, his smile faltering. Mickey lay completely still.