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Escape!

Pike's dreary eyes flickered open in the large bassinet. He could hear the octobear panicking. Was he shouting at something... about something? Besides that, what was that smell? He had messed at some point during his nap, but it was more than that. Something smelled almost burnt. Maybe the octobear had messed up a recipe?

Rolling over in the bassinet to face the octobear, Pike looked on with affection as his eyes cleared; he was about to cry for a change when he realized why the octobear was screaming so much. As he looked on, he saw half the kitchen engulfed in flames; at the core of the fire, the oven Pike had tripped in front of. "I... I must have hit it when I reached for the handle. N-no, Daddy," Pike said, not even realizing he had given the hybrid creature that title. He could see, stuck fighting the flames, the octobear was doing his best to contain the blaze.

The tears welled up in Pike's eyes, and he began to bawl, big sobs, a giant baby calling for their monster dad. Then, on a current of air, a tiny spark floated across the kitchen, landing on his nose. "Ah, shit!" the skunk cried, trying to tamp it out with his mitted hands. He succeeded, "That freaking hurt!" he called out, then realized his mind was clear!? The pain sent it back to normal? "I, I can make it out!" Pike thought to himself. He rocked back and forth, bringing the bassinet to the floor. With smoke filling the ceiling above him, he knew he'd have to crawl anyway, as humiliating as it was after everything that had happened.

As Pike scrambled along, he could feel his mush tush swinging behind him. He had hoped the spell on him was wholly broken; however, the more it moved, the more his mind wandered. Several times, he had to pinch himself to maintain focus. Finally, he was nearing the door; there was one last corner, and then he'd be free. As he rounded it, however, he found one previous roadblock. The octobear sat down low against the counters, his fur singed. It was enough to give Pike pause. He realized something meaningful with this new experience and made a choice. He approached the octobear carefully, crawling on all fours; when he was in front of him, he could see the creature's tired eyes.

"Little kit, it's not safe in the house. Crawl out, please." The octobear hacked and coughed as the smoke continued to singe his lungs. "You were bad but don't deserve —" he was cut off.

"Oh, shut up, you goof. I know I did bad, and you were trying to teach me a lesson. I don't think you're all bad inside here. So come on, I am getting you out," Pike said, crawling under one of the massive creatures' arms and beginning to heft him out the kitchen door. After some struggles, they made it down the stairs and out of the house, looking back on the blazing upstairs.

"I hope they're alright," Pike said as he and the octobear collapsed on the grass.

The smell of smoke permeated the theatre as Julian became increasingly upset. "No, no, no, this is going to ruin the atmosphere of the next show. We cannot have this," the fox ranted, shouting at the top of his lungs.

Mystic looked on in a daze. He had wet the padding between his legs thrice over now, and still, the fox made him dance. The smell of the smoke worried him, but he had no idea what he could do about it without being able to leave the stage. He needed a way out, a single opportunity.

In desperation, he closed his eyes, stopped dancing and stood still. He felt the urge to go, channelling the desire to keep another embarrassing flood at bay. Then... a crash. He opened his eyes to find stage lights had fallen from the ceiling. The wood beam they were bolted into crumbled away to ash above them. "Holy sh-" Mystic began to say, then he noticed Julian. "-it," he finished.

There stood the fox, now carved from stone, a gargoyle which lost its form, with a 24-foot length of rigging steel jutting through him. "Oh, thank god he turned back into the statue; otherwise, that'd be so gross-" Mystic paused. "Statue? Really?" The confused Mystic decided to give something a shot, bolting for the stairs once more. Sure enough, his feet clanged against the metal. "Yes!" he cried, his face a contorted mess of relief and joy as he descended to the audience pit. He began to run up the aisles, working his way to the doors at the back, the direct exit out of the mansion. He crashed full them at full tilt, not stopping until he found a gnarled tree to rest his back against as he watched the theatre go up in flames. "Good riddance, I don't think my destiny is on stage." he chuckled to himself, mindlessly kneading at the flooded diaper resting between his legs, its bulk spilling back towards him.

Soen batted around a small rubber bone in her crate when the sprinkler system kicked on. Her mind had been so soft and content. She barked playfully through her paci-gag as she shifted around in her large crate. Then came the deluge, water spilling from the ceiling, ice cold, flooded over her form. The chill sent a shiver up her spine. "What the hell is that!?" Soen thought in a panic. "Wait, what is this? I can think again?" she said out loud with glee.

She carefully fussed with the latch on her door using this moment of clarity. It was a simple metal rod passing through a loop of metal. The lock had stumped her for quite sometime only moments before; now, with her faculties returned, she was out in seconds. Once she stumbled out on her elbows and knees, the next step was escaping this latex suit. Fortunately, the sprinklers made an excellent aid; as water poured down from the ceiling, Soen could shift into several positions, letting the ice-cold liquid pass between the suit and her fur. The living latex reacted almost in pain, loosening, giving her a chance to shake them loose.

Now, it was time to get out of here. As she dashed out from the kennel into the hall, she realized the way back to the main hall was blocked by an inferno. The only option was the conservatory. Steeling herself, Soen stepped inside, scanning for Embra. Not seeing her ethereal form, Soen made a dash for the exterior doors, nearly marking it there before encountering the spirit.

"Each of my puppies leads a good life with me, and now they feed my garden; you will do the same, hellhound," Embra said with wretched venom. She could see the pieces click together for Soen, smirking at the young woman's disgust. Then, confusion overtook Embra as she watched the hellhound smile. It was a toothy smile, one that reeked of defiance.

"Was that a confession? Oh, you shouldn't have done that," Soen said, shifting the backpack into view. In a side pocket customarily reserved for water bottles sat the totem. The sigil of the adjudicator glows with golden light on its face. In ancient legend, this was the most potent totem; it could steal any soul which confessed to a crime, doling out punishments in a pocket dimension designed to break you to a just degree. "Whatever the adjudicator decides for you in there, I would dole out a hundred times worse. Consider this mercy." Soen said before breaking out into a sprint. She crossed the grounds in record time, and as Embra raised he hands to defend herself, she crashed through the spirit and out the door into the sun.