II: DANSE MACABRE (Pt. 3)

"But- But we took down all those hidden surveillance cameras and burned them in the fireplace!" Dark Link said incredulously.

"I helped!" BEN added.

Smirky sighed impatiently. "Correction: you found, and removed, the cameras he wanted you to find and remove. We bugged every room in this mansion, er... then doubled back and smashed the bathroom ones. Good times."

He snarled quietly as Smiley squeezed him around the middle; whispering nefarious mumblings about dissecting the imaginary teddy bear. The not-so-good doctor seemed to be enjoying his dream immensely.

"Oh, Mr. Tiddlywinks; I didn't know your intestines were like cotton candy! Hush, hush, I'm just snipping off an itty-witty bit for science... Mmhm! It is cotton candy!"

He licked his lips blissfully. Smirky would've bit him, but couldn't quite twist around to reach anyplace painful. Or not-so painful. Or anywhere at all, since he was stuck.

So he puffed his cheeks and exhaled loudly instead.

"The point I'm trying to make is, it's possible that his cameras recorded the entire struggle in Jack's room. He likes watching you do stupid things in your sleep." He paused thoughtfully. "So do I, for that matter. But that's not importan-"

Jeff gave a girly shriek. "He's been spying on us in our sleep!?"

He looked around the place with a newfound paranoia in his lidless eyes, covering himself with his hands like a lady in the shower.

BEN slowly span in a circle with wide eyes, waving at the ceiling. "Am I on camera right now? Quick! Smirky, is this angle getting my best side?"

Smirky's head tilted. He looked past the little elf, to where he knew the minuscule globe of a camera's lens would be, hidden behind the lush backdrop of a fake flower bouquet.

At the moment, the only thing it could capture was a perfect view of BEN's backside.

"... Something like that."

Delight shining in his starstruck eyeballs, BEN struck a truly ridiculous pose. And another. And another. Jeff went around him with a paparazzi camera, never one to pass up the opportunity for blackmail material.

Loathe to watch the blonde midget make an even bigger fool of himself, Smirky turned a cheek and pretended not to notice. The movement of his head invoked a reaction from Smiley – and a most undesirable one at that.

"No, no, no, Mr. Tiddlywinks! Don't cry. I'll cut your neck gentler next time, I promise. Shush, shush, you're losing so much blood..."

The not-so-good doctor soothingly stroked his brother's face, singing the tune of 'London Bridge is Falling Down' as sweet as a nightingale.

Looking unnervingly disturbed, Smirky's brilliant eyes crossed as they followed Smiley's hand. The moment it came in contact with his lips, his fierce bite was poised to activate like a spring-trap.

Unfortunately, fate decided that Smiley needed both hands for his inhumane acts of medical malpractice and intervened in the form of Dark Link, who distracted Smirky at the last moment.

"It won't work."

"What won't work? Your intellectual capabilities?" Smirky asked irritably, rather displeased at missing an opportunity to have his brother lose a couple of fingers.

The shade scratched the nape of his neck far too ferociously for a causal itch. He stopped short of drawing blood.  "Your master is our greatest enemy – he won't just let us look at his surveillance footage while cheerfully answering all our questions. He'll kill us on the spot!"

"As I've already said, I know how to get him to do what we want, without offering one of our own as a sacrifice-"

"I found a sacrifice!" Jeff interjected, holding up BEN (the elf had his arms outstretched like he was in The Titanic movie). "Where do I hand him in?"

"Goodness, no. That's just offensive," Dark Link said, "And pray may I ask what you're going to do to convince him, Smirky? Threaten to hand in your letter of resignation?"

"Goodness, no," the illusionist parroted, "He'd kill me on the spot."

"Then what...?"

"I'm going to offer him something he can't resist."

"Which is...?"

Smirky flashed him a devilish smile. "If I told you, you'd lose faith in me. Remove this idiot from my person before he gets too happy, and take yourselves to the forest footpath."

"Then what?" While speaking, Dark Link clicked his fingers repeatedly. Smiley began to stir, albeit reluctantly. ("I was having a nice dream!" he grumbled. His complaint was ignored).

The illusionist shot his half-awake brother a seething look and untangled himself from his embrace, unceremoniously kicking him in the shin for good measure.

"What I need is hidden somewhere in the mansion. Could take a little while to find. Occupy yourselves. Go for a walk. Play Go Fish. Murder each other for your own perverse entertainment."

"... If all this ends up being another one of your traps, I'll decapitate you in a blink."

"I'd love to see you try."

______

Suspicious, Dark Link had stayed behind to watch, but it wouldn't have been long before Smirky noticed an extra shadow trailing him about. So, he had to leave too, eventually.

The toll of their abused grandfather clock, crying eleven o'clock, dampened to a whimper as Dark Link shut the front door. The shade left it unlocked and went to join the others by the footpath leading out of the forest. Fog swirled around him, cooling him to the bone as it obstructed the way ahead.

It even wormed through an opening in his gloves and numbed his fingers.

Something's wrong with this place today...  S-Shouldn't have gone out alone... Got to hurry...

Striding into the endless sea of white, a discomforting veil of solitude fell in folds around his shoulders. His boots crunched into brittle, decaying leaves, but his footprints were swallowed from sight by the haze.

Here, where the air seemed to be waves of sound-smothering cotton, it wasn't so hard to imagine straying off the track and wandering for miles before realizing he was lost.

Forever.

(rustle, rustle)

Hell for leather, Dark Link deftly drew his sword from its sheath, lunging it forward in a dead straight line. But what stood for the blade to run through? The chilly fog?

His ears pricked up.

The fine hairs on his arms prickled.

Looking through the corner of his eye, he witnessed something tremendously large barrelling through the mist – straight towards him!

Talons flashed against sparking steel as he swung around and parried, blunt absorbing most of the blow. Before he could collect himself, he countered a second attack from the side, leaves and moist earth bunching at his heel as sheer force slid him back several feet.

In a single foggy breath, the wind drowned him in a tornado of leaves; a spiralling fury made of scratchy, shadowy lifeless autumn colours attacking from all sides.

While shielding his face with an arm, he hacked and slashed. His sword ripped a gaping wound into the cocoon. Immediately, the leaves shot away from him like opposing magnets and were reclaimed by the fog. The awful, awful fog.

But the wind had a voice, and it was shrieking with laughter. Dark Link shuddered in disbelief as it blew his hat off, scattering a dipped curtain of snowy hair strands across his face.

(rustle, rustle)
(AHAHAHAHA!)

He somersaulted after his prized possession, snatching the dark fabric before the malevolent force could steal it away into the fog. Panting, breath turning to clouds, he straightened up.

"Coward!" he roared, "Come out and face me – if you dare!"

At once, the wind turned silent. A dreadful hush crept with the rolling fog for miles, and the shade readied himself for battle; sword hand true and steady.

With an inhumane amount of speed, the talons tore right through his middle. Or, they would have if Dark Link hadn't cut through them first. The ebony slicers thudded somewhere nearby, but he never got to have a good look at them.

The fog turned the color of dried blood.

When he stepped back, his feet sank into scarlet soil.

It was like someone had sucked all the colours from the world and poured in a bucket of red. His head was beating like a drum, headache forming. Strength draining.

Vulnerable.

He tried to dissolve into a shadow, but a blinding, screaming flash of rose-coloured demonic static sent him hurling back into the royal red fog. The shade groaned, forcing himself back to his feet while his vision span and swam.

The static had scrambled his thoughts. In his mind, he was running back and forth, trying to collect the pieces and stick them back together, regardless of whether they fitted or not.

It made no sense. He made no sense. A chill gripped his empty left hand.

(sw... sword...)
(where's my sword...?)

Going on a whim, Dark Link swept a foot across the forest floor. The toe of his boot clanged on metal, buried partway in the leaves. He swiftly bent down to pick it up.

A second burst of static struck him from behind like an assassin's bullet. This time, he fought to block it, using a mind technique taught to him by Slenderman. But the more he resisted, the stronger it became, pushing him and his control further and further to the ground.

(you're just the shadow of someone greater)

His buckled knees hit the dirt. The rest of him followed. Where was the voice coming from, and why did it sound so much like his own?

(your only purpose is to fight, and be defeated by him)

Dark Link's throat felt parched, but not from thirst or heat. How could he fight an enemy he couldn't even see? The leaves shifted, a soundless wind blowing them aside.

The sword was gone.

(a copy like you isn't worth occupying a fraction of someone else's time)

Crawling on his stomach, the shade shivered. He shoved aside autumn leaves with his bare hands, searching for his weapon. The only thing he knew how to live by.

Guard, attack, destroy or be destroyed.

Without his sword, he had no reason to exist. Not live, exist. He wasn't alive. Living things needed blood pumping through in their veins, a heart which actually had to beat, and a soul to take with them to the afterlife.

He had blood and a heart, but he didn't need them. He had them because he wanted them - anything that gave him the delusion, the illusion, of being alive when he wasn't and he could just as easily liquefy his insides back into living shadow at any time he wanted.

A small, laughably naïve part of him, secretly clung onto hope that, one day, if he danced enough souls to Death's doorstep, he would earn a very special one made just for him.

(soulless shadow)

"It's true; I am a soulless shadow," he agreed quietly.

(die)

Dark Link found it, dirt and rust-coloured stone gracelessly crumbled over its silver steel, sticky, sap-covered leaves clinging to the hilt. He reached.

"But, even though I'm empty inside, and worth almost nothing on the outside..."

The static came crashing against his raw nerves as his fingertips touched the handle, turning his mind into the gyrating crank of a jack-in-a-box.

He didn't recoil. He didn't try to hide from it

He endured.

Bracing his lower half, he swung his sword. It parted the whirling October fog, whooshing through the air so fast it was a blur, slicing a path to the starless, moonless, blood-red night sky.

"I'm still the second game's final boss for a damn good reason!"

Something struck the ground, throwing a splay of forest bedding three feet high. Dark Link leapt aside, swinging effortlessly.

A razor-thin line sliced the scarlet leaves in half, midair.

The static withdrew, and the wind came rushing towards him.

Dark Link span, cutting his blade into the current, delivering a forceful, spark-filled strike to the talons that popped out from the fog to grab him.

He brought his sword to counterattack again, but none came.

Brilliant vermillion sparks, turning white, fell at his feet, spattering onto the browning leaves in a smoky pitter-patter.

The fog turned pale and thinned to an opaque veil. Dark Link dipped his head back and stared at the sky. Black. Just how it was supposed to be. The upside-down halfmoon emerged from behind a sooty cloak of clouds; an eerie golden abnormality.

(crunch, crunch, crunch)

Back for more so soon? Growling, Dark Link whipped around and slashed. The sharp-edged sword fell inches short of divorcing Smirky's head from his shoulders, mainly due, in part, to some timely dodging.

"Watch it!" the illusionist barked, loudly crushing leaves under his foot as he stepped back.

The tip soared past his throat, air rushing after it.

"You snuck up on me!"

"Since when did plodding through a great sodding pile of leaves with a giant glowing pumpkin in my arms equal to sneaking up on someone? For goodness sakes – put that thing away!"

Dark Link snapped his sword back towards him. He slid it back into its sheath without a hitch or quiver. "Apologies. It was my mistake."

Smirky's twitchy scowl was made especially clearer by the jack-o-lantern's added glow. Inside, the top of the ceramic candle holder reflected a brighter, dancing flame. He must have swapped the half-melted candlestick for a new one at some point.

Darkness thought it was good thinking ahead. Then again, he may have just been feeling guilty about almost decapitating him.

Maybe just a little bit.

A lot.

Near-decapitation wasn't the best way to show that you trusted someone who was taking you and the lunatics you'd been left in charge of to an evil demon's secret lair. The shade shuffled his feet, avoiding Smirky's eyes. In doing so, he noticed something else that the illusionist had on his person.

"What's that?"

"My arm."

"I'm talking about what's tucked under your arm."

"Oh, this?" Smirky nodded towards a brown paper bag. It was wrapped tight around whatever object had been packed inside. The shape was familiar, but Dark Link, still a bit muddled from the mad battle he'd been thrust into moments before, couldn't bring a picture to his mind.

"It's our 'get-out-of-jail free' ticket. Well, more of a, 'break into jail, but come out alive and in one piece', ticket."

"That thing," Darkness repeated numbly.

"Yes, this thing. Wasn't I clear enough the first time around?"

"Whatever's inside that parcel is going to convince your master to help find L.J. And not start laughing hysterically, then abruptly stop to kill us with fire," Dark Link said dubiously.

"My, my. I never knew you had imagination, let alone a vivid one. You mustn't worry. I have just as much to lose as you do, so I would ensure upmost certainty in my methods."

"But you wouldn't lose anything. You work for him. He even calls you his pet."

"I was bluffing to comfort you," Smirky admitted wryly. "I'm not very good at lying."

"You're lying about not being very good at lying."

"Precisely."

"You don't know how to respond to that, so now you're not making sense. I can read it. It's written all over your fa- what are you doing with that jack-o-lantern?"

"Have you ever been knocked out by a pumpkin before? I have. It's a rather unpleasant experience, would you like to try it? No? Good. Then shut up. I'd still like to know which one of you stuffed that abnormally large pumpkin into a Santa hat and heartily swung it at my face, by the way."

"... Now you're rambling to save face."

Thunk!

To be continued...
Next week!

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