He didn't scream. There were no agonizing cries of terror. Just simple silence.

I watched as he left. Just as soon as he arrived, he was gone. The horizon had consumed him. There was no splash of rage, no fighting. A switch had been flipped in his mind, and he was gone. 

I walked alongside the river, which was still calm and wide. Gentle ripples spread from the places where small branches or rocks broke the surface tension. 

Each step felt strained. My heels ached a way they hadn't before. I felt tired, despite having no life inside me to drain my energy. 

He was gone.

My one chance to get back on track was gone. I let this opportunity slip through my fingers like grains of sand. 

I leaned down and allowed my fingertips to gently trace over the top of the water, only to instantly recoil at the sensation. Thousands of needles prickled across my skin - it was as if I had placed my hand overtop magma. This wasn't an unusual reaction, sometimes when I felt emotional the world would erupt into invisible flames around me. 

I glanced at my hand and was met with fingertips that were red and slightly swollen. I could feel my pulse throbbing through them in intense waves of pain. 

It was the strategizing that ruined me. That had to have been it. If I had just done what every other soul would have and killed the dog on sight, I would have gotten my way. But no, I had to be extra, I had to play it safe. I was too cautious and paid the price because of it. Those who hesitate always pay. 

How could I have been so stupid?

And how could Luigi have left me? He had no idea where he was going! The man in green was the kind of person who needed constant guidance. Without his brother's footsteps to follow in, he'd surely be lost. If he was smart, he would have stuck with me. Even knowing what he knew now, he should have stayed. I needed him to stay.  

I needed that dog. 

I had my chance, yet I let them walk away. 

I should have fought. Should have tackled the dog and finished it with one quick swipe. I should have pulled up a traumatic backstory to win Luigi's pity and get him to stay. I should have at least done something. 

Why didn't I?

He was right there. I could have reached forward and grabbed him. I could have saved myself.

But I didn't. 

I hugged my hand tightly to my chest and waited for the burning to subside. It usually took only a few short minutes, though those minutes never felt short. I remained silent as the hope of a future slowly sank further from me. Fires burned within me, eating at the empty hole where my heart should have been. 

I should have told him to wait. I should have argued with him, convinced him to stay with me. Why didn't I bring up Mario? I could have convinced Luigi to do anything by simply uttering his beloved brother's name. If I had only tried, I surely could have changed Luigi's mind, right? I was good at being persuasive, and Luigi's mind was one of the easiest to manipulate. Why did I just stand back and let him leave?

I had to kill that dog. So why didn't I?

The darkness around me felt like it was closing in, drawing nearer and nearer like fracture lines on ice.

Failure was a monster, hungry for the souls of the damned, and I was its next meal.

I couldn't abandon my plan, though. I still had so much to do, so much potential that would be wasted if I were to do nothing. 

I bent my left middle and ring fingers backward until I was met with two soft snapping noises, followed by a brief feeling of satisfaction. 

I could have easily followed behind Luigi and manipulated him to do whatever I asked. I had no problem with it before. 

What was this new feeling? It couldn't have been guilt. Uncertainty, perhaps? No, that was impossible, I had always been certain. 

The darkness continued to surround me, slithering closer like venomous snakes.

I held my breath as if that would make me lighter. Maybe then the memory of all my failures wouldn't swallow me as it had before.

Luigi didn't matter. Nothing mattered. I just needed the stupid ghost dog. 

I shook my head and grasped my dagger. My purple-tinted reflection showed me a man I hardly recognized. It was no wonder the world had forgotten me, I was starting to forget myself too. 

"I'm Dimentio," I reminded myself. "Remember..."

"Oh, I remember you..."

I slowly came to a stop, though I didn't turn to look behind myself to see where the voice had come from. 

Instead, I lifted my blade slightly and glanced into the reflection of two bright yellow eyes. They weren't much different from my own left eye, though mine had lost much of its spark upon my arrival in the Underwhere. It used to glow fiercely like a star, now it was nothing more than a dim and dying lantern. 

A long, torn purple cape was draped over the man's shoulders, secured by a bat-shaped pin. 

"Hello old friend," he cooed. "It's been quite a while."

I knew very well that it wasn't me he was speaking to. I had no friends. 

"You're not getting this back," I stated firmly. 

This was the man I had stolen my diamond dagger from. Some kind of bat-phantom, though he wasn't a regular ghost. He couldn't die the way they could. I hadn't done enough research on him to figure out just what his deal was, all I knew was that he was a complete nutjob. I deserved the dagger way more than he ever could. 

I allowed my shoulders to drop as I turned to face him. He was covered in various cuts, likely from being mistaken as a regular ghost. He was probably attacked on the daily due to misunderstandings. Not that I cared, it wasn't my problem. 

I chose to take the dagger from him of all people simply because he reminded me of Nastasia. Yes, their personalities were wildly different, but both were bats. 

I hated Nastasia. Perhaps more than I hated Count Bleck. The count had been blinded by darkness and rage, but Nastasia could always see. She knew that she was doing wrong, yet did it anyway for the sake of someone who could never love her back. And even worse, she ran the castle like a factory. She turned what could have been a home into a workhouse. There is nothing honorable about blind obedience. People acted like she was smart, but she wasn't. Someone truly intelligent would think for themselves. She was exactly like everyone else, a blind follower with nothing to add. 

"Give me the dagger," he said. 

"No." 

His eyes narrowed slightly. Oh, how scary. 

I wasn't threatened by him. He was like me, a nobody who was being forgotten over decades of irrelevance. There was one key difference between the two of us, though. I was smart, I was determined. I wasn't really a nobody.

Without warning, he suddenly charged toward me. His large claw-like hands grasped at my collar as he shoved me down onto the riverbank. He quickly took the knife from my grip and held it over my throat, fighting to press it down into my skin. 

"Aha ha ha, you do know you cannot kill me, yes?" I laughed. 

"I know very vell," he replied. His eyes briefly flickered to the river. "But they... vell, they can make you vish I could."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed as he grasped my throat and started to push me toward the water. 

The water rippled more fiercely than before. I could see them, lurking just beneath the surface. The glow of the purple water made their white bones almost glow blue.

That's when the panic started to set in.

He continued to push until water started to wet my hair. It burned, like liquid glass. I cried out and pressed my eyes shut, but didn't fight. I couldn't, he was far stronger. The advantage I had over him before was my stealth, but he outmatched me when it came to physical strength.

The hands started to slither toward me. I could feel their presence, just meters away. 

Then there was a familiar yap. 

"Let him go."

The bat monster drew back slightly, then looked behind himself, though his hands remained pressed to my throat. 

Darkness had clouded my vision, leaving me nearly blind.

"Vell, vell, vell, vhat a surprise. I never expected to see you here of all places," he cooed. 

I let out a strained scoff, what an overdone accent. It felt fake - like he was putting on a show. It reminded me of how O'Chunks used to play up his Scottish accent whenever he was trying to appear extra tough. 

"Tas," Luigi's voice breathed. His tone shook slightly, yet remained firm. 

I was shoved to the side, onto the soggy wet soil. I wanted to get up and run, but I couldn't. He had my dagger. 

"This is quite interesting," the bat, Tas(?) said. 

I spat out some sediment and gagged. How did Luigi know this man?

Why was I surprised? Luigi probably knew thousands of souls. It was a little insulting, though. The man in green recognized this villain instantly, yet couldn't remember my eyes. Was there something about me that made me forgettable? Was I not someone worth remembering in his eyes? Did I not do enough to be deemed a worthy foe? 

"Leave him be," Luigi commanded.

I raised my gaze slightly and squinted. 

I had heard the dog yap, yet I couldn't see it. The little guy must have been invisible. 

Smart dog...

"Thieves must be taken care of, don't you agree?" Tas shrugged. "You know very vell vhat the vorld makes of villains like this one. Vould you not do the same thing?"

Luigi's fists clenched slightly. He didn't reply. 

"Hmm," Tas hummed. He held the knife up in front of his eyes. My knife. I fought for it, I earned it. He couldn't take it from me. I had already lost my chance to get Luigi's ghost dog, I couldn't lose my blade too. 

"What?" Luigi asked. 

"It's just exciting, no?" Tas continued. "Another chance, at last.  I've vaited and vaited, enough vith the vaiting!"

"Another chance?" Luigi asked. 

Tas nodded. 

Luigi shook his head and gritted his teeth. 

"Enough. I don't know what you're plotting, but knowing you, it isn't good. I'll stop you, Antasma. I stopped you before, I can do it again."

Antasma? Was that his full name? What was Tas, then?

.... A nickname.

Luigi had a freaking NICKNAME for this man!

"The dreamier version of you stopped me," Antasma corrected. 

Why wasn't I important enough for a nickname?

"Shut up and drop the knife," Luigi demanded. 

Was it my name? No, that couldn't have been it. He very easily could have made a nickname for me. Maybe something like Dim. Or Dio. It would be easier to make a nickname out of my name than a stupid name like "Antasma."

Antasma stilled for a moment, then glanced back to me.

My eyes remained on the blade. My blade.

"Is this.... sad something a friend of yours?" Antasma asked. 

Clearly not, because he couldn't even spare enough effort to give me a nickname.

Luigi didn't reply. 

The bat looked back at him and let out a soft "Ahh..." 

"What?" Luigi asked. 

"Nothing, nothing, I just know the look of betrayal vell."

Something swelled within me. 

I didn't move, though. Didn't speak, didn't fight, didn't breathe. 

"And yet," the bat continued, "you have still come to save him."

Luigi let out a breath. It was common for new souls to continue breathing, even though they didn't technically have to. 

"It was the right thing to do," he said. 

I wanted to scoff. What a generic thing to say. By no means was this the "right" thing to do. It was heroic, yes, but not the right thing. He owed me nothing. 

Besides a nickname. He did owe me that. 

"Vell, he is a bad guy, yes?" Antasma asked. "Maybe you vouldn't mind if I just..."

He grasped my throat and lifted me with ease. 

Again, souls couldn't be killed unless they were ghosts, but we could still feel pain. 

I let out a strained cry and struggled against his grip in a pathetic attempt to free myself. I hated this feeling - that of being powerless against someone bigger, someone stronger. 

"Wait- let him go!" Luigi cried. 

Suddenly, my throat was released. Antasma was tacked into the water with a splash of water and color. I scrambled back a little as the man in green wrestled with the large bat. They each clawed at each other and scratched, desperate to claim the knife before the skeletal hands could claim them. 

Luigi grasped the blade and threw it to shore. It landed beside me, blade buried in the damp, soggy dirt. 

Antasma let out a shout as he started to scramble to it when a skeletal hand suddenly grasped his waist and started to pull him back. 

I grabbed the knife and let out a breath of relief. 

"YOU ARE COMING VITH ME!" Antasma shouted as he was pulled under. His sharp claws latched onto Luigi's ankle and started to pull him away from shore. 

Polterpup appeared beside me, barking frantically at the water as its owner was dragged away. 

I looked between by dagger and the ghost dog. 

It was sitting right beside me. 

One quick slice, and I could have everything I ever wanted. 

"HELP!" Luigi shouted. He was pulled further and further from shore, his head just barely above the water as she splashed and desperately tried to break free from Antasma's grip. 

I hesitated, then held the blade up over the dog. It was distracted, staring loyally at its owner. 

Luigi's eyes widened slightly - afraid. 

I hoped he knew this wasn't personal. I wished I could tell him it never was. This was just something I needed to do. I wasn't trying to hurt him. Sometimes sacrifices needed to be made. 

He shook his head, his expression desperate. 

"Dimentio," he breathed, desperate.