The game room was silent and nearly still as night fell. Mario stood outside his tent, gazing up at the slowly pulsing stars for a moment before he went to sleep. A shooting star seemed to glide across the night sky, and Mario shut his eyes and wished that he could be with Sarah once more. Mario shuffled inside of the tent as Bill walked outside.

"Trouble sleeping?" Mario asked.

"Yes," Bill answered coldly.

Mario got inside his sleeping bag, but he couldn't sleep. Thoughts of Sarah haunted his mind. Could she be safe? Who is holding her captive? How is she handling whatever is happening to her? All he could do was wonder.

Sarah couldn't sleep that night either.

"Princess Peach?" Bowser walked into her room holding a beautiful pink dress.

"My name is Sarah," she snapped.

Attempting to maintain his former politeness, Bower explained, "I'm sorry. The directors asked me to call you Peach."

Peach looked away angrily.

"I made this dress for you. I hope you like it. Please wear it to dinner tonight."

"I'm not coming to dinner and I'm certainly not wearing that dress."

Bowser looked incredulous, "Yes, you are. You don't have much of a choice."

"You know what, I can't handle any more of this game! I'm taking off the glasses," Peach cried.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Bowser warned her, "You won't be able to see the virtual reality, but I assure you that you'll still feel it. The same walls will still be there, same enemies. You're trapped, princess."

She took the dress from his hands, and ripped the skirt right down the middle.

"You…" Bowser shook with rage, "have no idea how long and hard I worked to make that. I made a dress for you. A dress! Now, you listen very closely. You will come to dinner and you will wear the dress. Is that clear?"

"I'm not going to," Peach gritted her teeth.

Bowser, transforming into a beast, grabbed Peach's arms and began to drag his nails deep into her skin.

"Stop!" she yelled, crying out in pain, "I'll do it! Please, just stop!"

"Change into the dress," Bowser whispered, releasing his grip on the princess.

"Okay," Peach succumbed, "Please leave for a moment."

"No. I'm going to stay here and make sure you don't try anything."

Peach began to slip off her shirt, facing away from Bowser. The shirt rubbed against her skin created static, causing her hair to float gently away from her head. She ran her trembling fingers through her hair, attempting to tame it. Her breathing became labored as it escaped her bluing lips. She hesitantly put the dress on, nervously pondering what could be going through Bowser's mind.

The red slowly faded out of his complexion as he calmed down. He morphed back into a human, and looked at the floor, ashamed.

"You can't lose your temper, Bowser. No one ever falls in love with a man who loses his temper," he thought. His eyes lifted from the floor to Peach's back. "Look at her skin..." There was a silky quality to it, and it glistened even in the dim interior lighting of the dungeon. He reached out as if to touch it, but stopped himself and instead attempted to help her zip up the dress.

A chill ran down Peach's spine as Bowser's cold hand made contact with her skin. She softly gasped and jerked away, but he continued to calmly zip up the dress.

"It's on. Let's go," Peach mumbled. Bowser walked ahead of her, turning back constantly to make sure the princess was still behind him.

A stream of tears wet her dress, and she wiped her cheeks with the dress's sleeves. A sob escaped her throat as a window came into sight. She ran to it and screeched, "Wesley!"

Bowser looked back at her sadly and approached her slowly, as one might approach a nervous fawn.

"Come on. Dinner is waiting."

Mario heard Peach's scream and sat bolt upright. He tried to brush it off, telling himself that it was only a dream, but he couldn't go back to sleep. He laid back down and stared around the tent's interior.

He laid there for a few minutes before he heard angry footsteps approaching. He saw Bill stomp into the tent and pull Olli out by the arm. Mario watched their conversation take place. Bill sounded very angry, contrasted by Olli's tone of comfort and reason.

"It's your fault she died. If I had shot that witch, none of this would have happened. But you had to calm me down! And look where that got me!" Bill pulled out his gun and pointed it at Olli's head, "Look where that got me…"

Right as Bill's quivering finger pulled the trigger, another man jumped out of the darkness in which he was formerly hidden and in front of the bullet. As blood streamed from his head, he fell to the ground, dead.

"Bo!" Olli cried out, but he knew he had no time to mourn the loss of his best friend. Olli retrieved the folded up cape from in his pocket and disappeared.

"Where the hell did you go!?" Bill screamed.

As Bill yelled, the wizards, who were sleeping nearby, stepped outside of their tents and used their wands to teleport to Bill. Carrie pulled out her wand and aimed at Bill.

"Calm down, Bill, or you'll wake up all the players," Carrie laughed, pressing the tip of the wand into his temple.

"Please, stop…," Bill stayed as still as humanly possible.

"Why should we stop? You never do," Carrie responded, "I know, get on your knees and beg, and then maybe I will.

Mario tried to figure out something he could do, while Luigi was still next to him, fast asleep.

Bill fell to his knees once Carrie removed the wand from his head and begged pathetically, "Please," he sobbed, "Please don't hurt me. I'm sorry. Please."

"What do you think, Cameron?"

"Eh, I don't think he means it, Carrie."

"No, no, I mean it! I'm sorry for earlier, just please—"

Carrie cut him off, "Shut up. You're pathetic," before a stream of light burst from the wand, striking Bill's forehead.

Carrie and Cameron cackled, taking his gun before kicking his body to the ground. Mario stepped out of the tent and tried to comfort Bill before he died, but it was too late. Bill gasped as he took his final breath.

"Come on, Olli. We'd better go back to sleep so we can travel again tomorrow," Mario called.

Olli removed his cape as he trailed back inside, and both men went to sleep, plagued with dreams of the violence they had just witnessed.

Rosalina awoke from a terrible dream, panting to catch her breath. She had just relived her mother's death: the gruesome car crash, her severed legs, her glassy eyes as she lived her last moments. Rosalina began to cry uncontrollably, and the Lumas rushed to her side to comfort her.

"Don't be sad, Mama!" the young Luma smiled.

"What's wrong?" the old Luma asked.

"I had a dream about my mother."

"Oh…" the old Luma paused to think of what he could say, "Just remember that she's always with you. She's up in the stars and comets, watching over you. And that's not the only place she is, she's a part of you too. She lives in your spirit."

"Please, mama, no more crying."

Rosalina smiled up at her baby, wiping away her tears, "No more crying."