"The hour of departure has arrived and we go our ways; I to die, and you to live. Which is better? Only God knows." –Socrates

I don't believe in 'speculation'.

After so many years, I just don't. It's hard to. I've been alive for almost 28 years, and even though I've not changed in appearance since nineteen, my mind's continued to mature and evolve. I like to see the reason in all occurrences. Even the magic of my homeland. Or the spell that keeps the Smashers youthful.

But all my reasoning could not explain the deep, painful pit in my stomach earlier when I said goodbye to Roy. Almost like, when he said goodbye… It was goodbye.

nex

I went to my room after the party had ended, alone. Ike had said he wasn't feeling well, so I wasn't surprised when he wasn't there. His stomach was always hurting so much. I sometimes wonder if he was as healthy as he always said he was. He was such a good person. He never got mad with me, or did anything wrong. The only person who's said anything bad about him was Snake, but I assumed it was just him being himself. He's such a pervert. Ike really hates him, too. I mildly dislike him, but I don't have the heart to hate. These people are all like me. They've all been through a lot of ugly shit before they came here. Like, Ike for example, had to kill his own god. Ugly shit indeed.

Flopping down on my bed, I sighed deeply. I was already missing Roy—he was my best friend, after all. And I…well, I don't make it obvious, but I still really like him. Even though I know he's straight and doesn't like me the same way. But he could make Ike look like a slobbering idiot any day.

"You're in a rebound relationship," Peach had told me once while trying to tie a bow around her golf club before a match against Ness. "You're only dating him because you're still hurt that Roy rejected you." She then looked up at me with one of her dazzling grins that would melt the heart of any guy…well, any that liked her. "So if you're going to love another man, make sure you put all your heart into it. That's what he would have wanted." …Of course, Peach had a major crush on the little red-head, too, but I'm sure that didn't influence her words.

Someone knocked at my door, and I lazily opened an eye. "Come in," I called. "Door's unlocked."

"Hey." It was Pit. The angel slipped into my room and sat himself down at my desk. I pulled myself up so I was leaning against the headboard, untangling myself of my cape so I could cast it aside on the ground. "I heard Ike was sick so I came to see if he'd come back here yet. I wanted to ask him something about his fighting technique."

Back here yet? "Well, if he's not here, he's probably just in the hospital wing, right?" I replied. Whatever wasn't sitting right in my stomach seemed to throb with pain as Pit shook his head.

"No. I asked…he never checked in." The brunette warrior frowned. "But if he's not here…" He leaned back in the seat, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "…Could he be wandering around the mansion?"

"At this hour?" I swallowed. "Ike wakes up at like, six in the morning. He wouldn't be wandering around at this time, and he hates sleeping in or on anything else than his own bed." That was certainly odd. Where could Ike be? "Maybe he went into the town?"

"At one in the morning?" Pit raised an eyebrow at me. "Please…don't delude yourself. I didn't come here just because I wanted to talk to Ike about Brawling." He leaned forward, pausing to adjust the hem of his tunic, before looking directly at me. "As you know, I'm a friend of Mr. Suspicious-In-My-Physics-Defying-Box, and he's extra suspicious of…well, you know."

Yeah, I knew, and I wasn't liking it. "Snake's crazy," I said. "He'd believe a milk jug has deadly poison in it if you presented the possibility. He doesn't buy his own food for a stupid reason, you know." Of course, Snake was some sort of rogue spy or something, and probably had plenty of enemies, but still… "What's there to suspect about Ike?"

Pit paused, and then turned away slightly. "…You would get mad if I told you. You're too emotional about him. You'd just throw something at me and boot me out of your room. You're a veteran, but you need to grow up sometime, you know."

Was that even worth a response? I crossed my arms and gave him my best death glare. Which, I'm told, can be pretty scary. I've had plenty of practice, after all. I am the heir to the throne of my homeland, Aritia, after all. Or, I would be if I wasn't a Smasher. I'd given the throne to my sister, now the Queen, Ellis. But I still knew how to deal in the world of politics, and there, an angry glare always serves well.

All I got in response was another shake of the head and a glare back. "…Marth… You're immature. I know what you've been through, but I'm serious, if you can't grow up a little, I can't tell you."

Oh, snap. Owned by the kid angel. I slumped back in defeat. …I was curious, admittedly. "…Alright. I promise to not over-react and boot your skinny ass out of my room if I get mad. Can you please tell me?" He hesitated, and I pressed further. "Isn't the best way to keep a man ignorant is to never tell him what he needs to know?"

That did it. Pit stood, brushed himself off, and leaned against the wall. "…You've heard about the kidnapper, right? The one who's been taking teenage guys?" I nodded. Who hadn't? "Well, Snake's been researching it, and…he found something interesting."

"Oh?" I leaned forward, pulling my knees to my chest so I would better balance myself. "What did he find?" …Cue the bad feeling in my gut again.

The angel touched his forehead slightly, eyes closed and his other arm crossed over his stomach. "He found that every time a person disappeared…it's happened the same times Ike's claimed to be sick."

Uhm. I stared blankly at him for a moment, trying to grasp what he was saying. Then, "Wait a second; he couldn't know that if there was a hospital record… So Ike was sick! Don't start accusing him, he wouldn't be allowed into the Smasher society if he was a criminal! You know Master Hand does background checks!"

Pit's shoulders heaved from relief. "…Thanks, Marth. I honestly have been doubting Snake's claim myself. Ike's kind of distant, but he's not…a bad guy. Well, not an evil bad one. In a speaking sense. You know." He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I just kind of wanted to confirm Snake was wrong, you know, and no one better to ask than the man himself, or his wo—er, I mean, partner."

I laughed slightly, though it sounded rather forced to myself. "Well, I appreciate you being honest, Pit. I'd do anything to help Ike; after all, I love him." I sat back, crossing my arms behind my head and leaning the top of my head against the wall.

"That's not what I hear." Pit smirked in a secretive, knowing way that made my heart skip a beat in nervousness. "I hear you're just dating him because he was booted."

I couldn't stop the blood from rushing to my face. "He? Who's he? There are a lot of 'he's here in the mansion," I said quickly, sitting up so fast my back cracked slightly. "And everyone who was booted was a guy, too—"

"Don't play stupid," Pit interrupted. "You know exactly who I'm talking about. 'Waga kinshou niiro kashira', as you used to say. I looked it up a while back." He grinned fully. "Who's this red-head you're talking about?"

"Uuuuuuuh…" I replied intelligently. "…Bowser?"

"Don't make me laugh." He laughed. "I saw the way you were acting, Marfykins. When that red-head was here…you were much happier than normal. You found everything he said fascinating…you couldn't take your eyes off him." He shook his head again, chuckling to himself. "People aren't dumb, waga kinshou koushaku. We know you love him. Like, even more than Falcon loves Samus. Which is a lot." He stepped forward, and patted me on the shoulder. "You don't need to force yourself to love anyone because he's not here, ya know."

Without another word, he left the room, yawning as he flicked the light switch and shut the door. "…That's what everyone says," I muttered to myself, kicking my shoes off my feet and slipping under the covers of my bed. I was tired, and I needed to sleep… "…They all say that I'm only with Ike…because I still love Roy. …Am I…so easy to see through?"

nex

"Rise and shine, dahling, there's a new day awaiting us!"

I rolled over, groaning as the window shades were pulled open, letting in the sun. My eyes took a moment to adjust, and the first thing I did was look at the clock. 7:40. A little earlier than I would have liked. The light was blocked, though, as a large figure stepped in front of my bed, peering down at me with a bright smile. "Come on, wake up! I'm in a really good mood today, so don't spoil it!"

"Ike…" I moaned. "…I'm tired, can't I sleep for a little longer?" I tried to turn away, but he grabbed me by my waist and dragged me right from the bed, turning me in his arms so I was being held bridal-style. I blinked sleepily at him, trying to figure out just why he was so darned happy.

"Oh, grow up Marth," he said, nuzzling his nose into my hair. "You'd not be so tired if you didn't stay up late, I guarantee you. So up and at it, alright?" He sat back down on the bed, freeing an arm to fiddle with my sleeves and collar, straightening them out so I looked somewhat presentable to the world. "Don't fall asleep on me!"

I smiled at his fussing, eventually regaining enough energy to brush him away and sit up in his lap. "Alright, alright, I won't. Though, I wouldn't mind falling asleep like this…" I rested my head against his shoulder, letting the sound of his breathing overtake everything else. Or, I wanted it to, though I couldn't help but notice a small splotch of red at his neck, half-hidden by his tunic collar.

Before I could get a good look, though, he shifted, and pushed me out of his lap, forcing me to stand. "Yes, but then I couldn't take you anywhere," he replied, looking as innocent as a six-foot muscle head could look. "Not that I can today. I actually woke you up because I have to go home for a few days."

"What?" I gasped. "But…Ike…what's going on there?"

"Nothing too important," the large bluenette replied. "Just some border disputes they want my help with." He pulled me into a tight hug, pinning my arms to my side and crossing his legs around mine, preventing escape—not that I would try to. "I'll be back Wednesday morning, promise." He nuzzled his nose against my forehead, bringing a blush to my cheeks, then kissed me swiftly. "Well, I've got to go soon. I love you, my little prince, stay out of trouble for me." He spun around, sitting me on the bed, then sweeping out of the room dramatically.

…If he was going home, why was he so…happy? It didn't make much sense, but my heart was pounding too hard in my ears for me to think properly. I always felt giddy and fuzzy whenever he touched me, but…I always found myself wishing he was a little smaller. Okay, a lot smaller. Like… my little niiro kashira.

nex

As I sat down to eat my lunch two days later—consisting of a muffin and banana—someone jumped up next to me. I glanced down to see Lucas, who was munching on a sandwich. "Afternoon," I said to the young psychic.

"Hi!" he replied between mouthfuls. "Ness is eating with Fox so I decided to sit here. You looked lonely." He turned in his seat to watch my expression. "…You look sad, too. What's wrong? Was Ikey a poo-head again? Ness says Ike's mean."

I smiled, reaching over and patting Lucas on the head. "Nah, I'm just tired. Ike had to go home for a few days, and so I've been wasting my time being a stupid adult. Parties don't end for a couple days at this age, you know."

"Oh! Yeah!" Lucas covered his mouth with a hand in surprise. "I almost forgot!" He hunched over, digging into his pockets for a moment. "I had it…aha! Here!" He straightened, and held out his small clenched fist. A key ring dangled from his fingers, the keys clinging together like a crude wind chime. "I found this in one of the hallways, and I was going to show it to everyone until—"

My muffin fell to the table top as it slipped from my hand, cutting the psychic off. My heart beating unusually hard against my sternum, I snatched the keys from Lucas and flipped through them, until I found…

"I saw that, too," Lucas babbled. "It's a pretty charm, don't you think? Dragons are kind of cool…scary, but cool." I wasn't really listening to him, though. I was staring at the small dragon charm hanging off the ring—and the tiny red splatter across its sterling body.

"Lucas…I know whose keys these are," I said quietly, standing from the table. "Thanks for showing them to me, I'll return them to their owner as soon as possible, alright?" He nodded cheerfully, completely oblivious to the fact there was something very wrong with this.

After all, the only person I knew to have a dragon on their keychain was Roy.

nex

"What do you mean Roy's still here?" Pit demanded, pulling the ice pack off his forehead at last. I didn't get hangovers, but the angel always regretted drinking. Until the next party.

I fidgeted uncomfortably. The purple living room, also known as the Purple Lounge, was deserted save us two, sitting apposing one another on the large and ugly but comfy couches. "I mean what I say. Lucas found Roy's keys, and I went and checked for myself; his car's still here."

"Master Hand would know if Roy stayed," Pit insisted. "And from what I heard, he's too damn gracious to do something like this."

"Then why hasn't he left?" I demanded. I wanted to believe Pit—Roy wouldn't do that—but how could I know, I'd fallen out of contact with him over the last year. What if he had holed up in here?

"You know who we should talk to," Pit was saying. "Snake."

I froze. "Absolutely not! I don't want anything to do with him! I'd rather talk to someone whose friends with Roy, like Falcon or Link."

"Trust me, Marth," Pit said, sitting up straight and fluttering his wings slightly. "If there was anyone more skilled in espionage than the old man, I'd ask him first. If you want to bring Falcon and Link into this, so be it. I don't know Roy; I'm only giving you my opinion." He sat back, setting the ice pack onto his temple again.

I swallowed. I really did not want to trust Snake with anything, but Pit had a point: the man knew his stuff. And the sick feeling in my gut was still there. Something just seemed really wrong with all of this. Roy wouldn't do this. He wouldn't have tried to hole up in the mansion. Roy wouldn't.

Pit glanced at me with an expression that seemed to mirror my concern, even if I knew it was a different breed of the emotion. "Alright," I said, feeling deflated. "Can you get Snake? I want to get Link and Falcon… We can meet here in five."

The angel sat up immediately. "Marth, you don't—"

"Yes, I do," I replied, standing up to tower over the archer. "If something's happened…I… I won't be the one to let something bad happen to Roy. If he's hiding, then I'll boot his ass to Iceland. If he's not, then we can find him and I can put my mind to rest."

Pit nodded slowly. "Alright. Five minutes." He stood, and pushed out of the room, with me on his heels.

I wouldn't let anything happen to my best friend.

nex

I'd found Falcon and Link easily enough; they had been watching a match between Ganondorf and Wolf. It taken me even less time to drag both of them to the Lounge, and await Pit and Snake. They kept asking me questions that I wasn't hearing. I only wanted to explain myself once, if absolutely necessary. I paced, wondering angrily what was taking so long.

And then there they were, Pit and Snake, the latter quickly taking a lounge chair and opening an elaborate laptop on his lap. Pit waved a hand at me, telling me to stop pacing and sit down, which I did immediately.

The angel turned to face the gathered, and quickly launched into an explanation. "Roy's missing," he said. "Lucas found his car keys this morning, and his car is still here, but there's no sign of him in the mansion." He glanced at Snake. "This could be considered a security issue, but I'm certain you're more interested in his safety than whatever rules he might be breaking."

"I'm not," Snake said.

I replied only with a scathing glare.

"Shut up, box-man," Falcon snapped. "If you weren't as good as you are with technology…"

"If what?" Snake shot back. "Fucking bounty hunter… Well, if you're even semi-intelligent, then maybe you'll shut your face and let me speak."

"No one was asking you," Pit sighed to himself, crossing his arms and setting his weight on his right leg. "But go ahead."

Snake 'hmph'ed. "I already ran a sweep. No unauthorized personal in the mansion. Just a car. But nobody cares about that, I'm sure. So your little friend isn't here. Does that help?"

I slumped in my seat. At the very least, Roy wasn't here… But that meant he'd left without his keys or car. Which somehow seemed a lot worse. "Can you test the blood?" I asked. "I'm sure Roy's DNA is still in the system…"

"Yeah, I can do that," Snake said. "Doesn't mean I will, but I can." About four seconds later, he peeled Roy's keys off his forehead, glaring at Pit as the angel scowled back, then leaning over his computer again.

"Nice throw," Falcon said to Pit, who just shrugged.

A few minutes passed in silence, as Snake pulled tools off his belt and plugged them into his laptop, typing and testing and grumbling. I curled my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around my knees, holding my breath anxiously.

"So…" Link spoke for the first time, his voice so quiet one had to strain to hear it. Which was depressing, in a way, because it sounded kind of like wind chimes. "You've…heard about the kidnapper…?"

Pit nodded, shooting a glance at me. "Yeah. Some bastard's been kidnapping teenage boys. They're not to be seen again… Well, actually, they've been finding little things by the doors of the missing boys' homes… Shirts, pants, fingers, eyeballs… No other DNA, though…"

"Stop it," I moaned, resting my forehead on my knees. I didn't want to hear about it. Not now, especially.

"Oh…I'm sorry," Link whispered, settling back into his seat and retreating into himself.

"Got it," Snake said, suddenly. All eyes turned towards the older man. "It's Roy's blood, alright, but it's not fresh." He poked a key on his comp. "I'm going to check the surveillance video from the reunion night… I can date the blood to the minute, so I should…" He trailed off, his fingers flying across the keyboard. After a few seconds, his hands fell still, and there was a moment of silence, before some of the annoyance drained from his face. "Oh…"

"Oh?" Falcon demanded.

"This doesn't look very good for your friend," Snake said grimly, turning the laptop around so we could see the video that was cycling on the screen.

It was only about twenty seconds long, but it seemed to last forever. There was Roy, walking down a hallway, twirling his keys and looking rather pleased. And then, as if from no where, there was a person in a cloak, like a shadow. They had a block of wood in their hands, and they had no hesitation in swinging the stick around, smashing it into the back of his head. I jumped, covering my mouth with my hands as Roy fell, dropping his keys. The person scooped Roy up like he was a doll; blood dripped from the wound on Roy's head, a couple drops covering the keys and the rest lost in the carpet, and then the shadowy person was gone, red-head in tow.

It recycled the video again and again, until Pit stepped forward and turned the computer back towards Snake.

"What the HELL?" Falcon exclaimed, slamming his hands down on the table. "Someone was in the mansion that night! And they got Roy!"

"There were no unauthorized personal in the mansion that night…" Snake said softly, sounding a lot more somber than before. "The only way someone could have gotten away with this was if…"

"…If they were one of the Smashers," I finished, suddenly unsure if I could keep my lunch down. "Snake, is there a way to get out of the mansion without being detected?" I asked frantically.

The man nodded. "Yeah, if you've done enough exploring."

"Shit!" I punched a vase. The silk flowers and glass rocks went scattering across the floor, and I barely noticed the glass that cut into my fingers, stinging like flame. "Roy's been kidnapped! What if…" I blanched. I didn't need to finish. My message got to the others rather quickly.

"We can't do anything about this today," Snake said, closing his laptop. "I'm going to conduct some research about this tonight. Tomorrow, we'll meet here again and take action."

"What?" I cried, spinning on the older man. "Wait until tomorrow? It's been almost three days! What if something's happened to Roy? What if he's…" I trailed off, choking on my own words. "I'm going to go find him," I said. Before I could see the looks of surprise, I turned to storm out of the room. I almost got out, too.

"Hey!" Snake shouted, lunging forward and grabbing my arm in a painful lock. "No way are you going out there, not with the kidnapper. Wait until we have more information, you stupid teenager."

"Let me go!" I demanded, fighting to get out of his grip. My pleas went ignored.

"Falcon," Snake said, turning to the bounty hunter. "You and Link take Marth to his room, and keep him in there. Don't let him do anything stupid."

"Y-yessir…" Falcon mumbled, still in shock, taking my arm away from Snake. With Link's help, he managed to drag me down the hall, though I was yelling and fighting the whole way. I had to help Roy. I had to. He was in trouble and I had to find him.

I didn't even realize I was in my room until Falcon and Link sat me in a chair and ran before I could get up, closing the door and locking it from the outside. "HEY!" I screamed, jumping at the only exit and pounding on the wood. "LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!"

"Sorry, Marth," Falcon said, sounding sad. You stupid fucker! I thought furiously, backing away from the door. What if Roy dies and it's your fault? I slammed my hand on the door one last time, then gave up, storming away and sitting furiously on my bed.

This wasn't fair. Roy needed my help. Who else would care? I literally tore my pillow half in frustration, sending feathers spiraling pitifully to the ground. I hunched down and fumed, staring at the remains for a very long time. At least, I think it was long, because when I looked up again, it was almost eleven in the evening. I hadn't eaten dinner, but I wasn't hungry.

The moon was full, and casting light through my window, turning the carpet silver. I stood, angrily stripping my tunic off and pulling on jeans and a skin-tight white t-shirt, casting my tiara aside. I knew I should have never trusted Snake. He had made it impossible to help my friend. What if he was already dead?

I glanced out, watching the stars flicker happily next to the moon. Roy was out there somewhere. I had to find him.

And then it clicked.

The window!

I was two floors up, but I always kept random things in my room. Like rope. It was very easy to kick the pane of glass out, catch it before it fell, and dangle an anchored rope over the sill and into the fancy bushes below. Strapping a dagger to my belt and throwing a jacket on, I scrambled out of my room and to the ground, cursing Snake and Falcon and Link in my head. I would return victorious with Roy in hand, and be the hero.

Little did I know.

Oh, how little did I know.

nex

The first problem was tracking the little guy down. I couldn't hunt forever. I crawled over the gate to the mansion and wandered into town, peeking into closed shops and strolling empty streets carefully. Any evidence by now would be cold, I thought grimly. I'll never find him.

If I hadn't decided to kick over the nearby garbage can, I never would have noticed the wallet on the ground. But I did, and I saw it, so ignoring the pain in my foot, I snatched it up and looked for an ID. And just about had a heart attack.

It was Roy's wallet.

He was smiling at me from his driver's license, as innocent and handsome as ever. There was no money or credit cards, but there were pictures. A beautiful estate, a blue-haired girl who appeared to be a few years younger than me, a middle-aged man who looked shockingly like Roy but with a much more regal air.

I glanced up, looking down the alleyway where I'd found the wallet. On the other side, I could see, were a bunch of warehouses. They looked old and abandoned… The perfect place to take a kidnapped child! I stuffed the wallet in my pocket and rushed forward, eager and nervous at the same time. Was Roy there? How would I know which one he could be trapped in?

It turned out the latter question was easy to answer. The third warehouse I walked by, the door to the inside was covered with blood. And suddenly I wasn't so eager. The door was unlocked, but it took me a rather long time to venture forth and open it, wincing as it creaked.

It was empty inside, except for a few rotted boxes. There were steel doors along one wall, all locked from the outside by dead-bolts. It smelled awfully pungent inside, though I could not identify the odor. Slowly, cautiously, I moved to the first door, unlocking it and pulling it open.

I don't know how I managed to survive the shock of what I saw.

There was a bed and a nightstand, set up carelessly in the small room. Bound roughly to the bed, stripped naked, was a half-rotted body, one eye completely missing from its socket. The flesh was green and black, seeped in dark brown, its face still shaped in a horrifying screech of pain.

I reeled backwards, overwhelmed, and slammed the door shut, doubling over and losing what fluids I had in my stomach. That explained the source of the smell.

Then it really hit me what I'd just seen.

And in a way, it really did, because someone punched me in the face right as I made to stand up. I didn't even get a chance to cry out before I fell down, out cold.

When I awoke, I found myself sitting on the ground, my head slumped forward painfully. My temple throbbed, but I sat up, wincing as my headache pounded. I appeared to be tied to a metal beam in the center of the warehouse, my hands bound roughly behind it. There was no one in sight, but a light overhead had been switched on, filling the steel building with a dim, white glow. The boxes cast shadows across the walls, darkness that seemed to flicker as wind seeped through a crack and shifted the hanging light.

Something soft hit the floor behind me, and I stiffened, holding my breath. I heard the noise again, and again, and by the time I realized it was footsteps the cloaked person from the surveillance video was standing in front of me.

I could not see their face, but from the stature I could tell it was a man. He was tall, about six-three, and broadly built. His cloak brushed the floor, concealing most of his body, except for his feet, which were clad in dark leather boots. From the depths of the hood I could almost see a pair of eyes, glistening darkly in the dim light.

I'd seen some terrifying things in my previous life, when I'd defended my own homeland, but I had never been more afraid than now, as this man towered over me.

"So you're the little sneak who poked your face into my adobe," he said icily, his voice deep and gruff. There was a certain fakeness about it, something I noted but didn't really take note of, if you know what I mean. "Did you like what you found?"

I swallowed nervously. "Where's Roy?" I demanded hoarsely, doing my best to not think about the rotted body I'd found earlier. He tilted his head to the side, as if I was speaking a different language, and I lost it. "Don't play stupid! Where's Roy?"

I didn't see the kick coming, so it just about knocked me right back out when it connected with my face. "Stupid!" he snapped. "Call me stupid, will you? I'm stupid? You're the idiot who wandered in here!" He grabbed my shirt, and shoved me against the pipe, pinning my neck to the cold metal. "You've been a thorn in my side for too long. I suppose it was only a matter of time before you found this place… Especially since I took that little red-head."

My heart skipped. He did have Roy! The joy seeped away just as quickly, though. That didn't mean my best friend was still alive. "What have you done to him?" I gasped.

The man stood, releasing his grip on my collarbone, and put his foot through the beam. The roof creaked slightly as some of the support was lost, raining flakes of old, brittle metal over my face. The man jerked me onto my feet, pulling a knife from nowhere and holding it dangerously at my shoulder. "You wanna see what I've done?" he hissed. "You really want to see?"

Suddenly I wasn't so sure I wanted to see what had befallen Roy. I didn't get a choice in the matter, though, as he pushed me towards one of the doors towards the end of the warehouse. Walking seemed automatic, like my brain was functioning without my permission. I was used to being at sword point—oh god, was I used to it. But it had never been so terrifying. I had never been so sure that the next step would be my last, that the last thing I would see would be my own blood across the floor.

What had I gotten myself into?

He stopped in front of the door, gripping my arm with one hand and unlocking the deadbolt with the other. Its click was like thunder, quiet and dangerous. Like it was about to decide your fate. I found myself unable to breath. I didn't want to see what was behind the door, but a part of me was unable to look away. And so I could only watch as he pushed the heavy door open.

I've seen some pretty disgusting things. Including the body I'd found just earlier. I knew what blood looked like and smelled like and tasted like. Carnage was nothing new to me. I was the killer of hundreds, when I had once been fighting for my own country's liberation. When I joined the Smashers and chose to stop growing older, I was sure I wouldn't ever have to see bloodshed on the scale of a war again. Smash battles were bloody gore fests, but at least there were rules, time-outs, doctors right off stage to heal whatever injuries you've sustained. But it was all in good fun. You see someone's intestines spilling on the dirt, you laugh with them as they get patched up in seconds, you walk off stage and get a drink and watch pre-recorded TV shows about idiots doing idiotic things with other idiots. It was not bloodshed. It was just an exceptionally violent game.

Nothing compared to what I saw.

There was a bed and nightstand in this room as well, set up even more hastily than the first room. Fabric and blood was scattered across the floor, and the light inside was dead. But that did not prevent me from seeing what I saw.

Bound roughly to the bed, stripped and soaked in blood, was Roy.

His arms were still glistening red from deep cuts on his wrists, his chest and stomach covered with dark, gaping wounds that were too deep to close on their own. His face was heavily bruised and hollowed, and there was a deep welt under his right eye. I can't even describe what else I might have seen.

I was too focused on the fact that his chest, though weakly, was still rising and falling.

"He's still alive?" the man said, sounding rather surprised himself. "I swear, that kid is such a nuisance…" He pulled me roughly into the room, shoving me into a corner and slamming the door shut behind him. "What do you think of my work?" he asked, now sounding rather pleased.

"Y-your work?" I rasped weakly, leaning into the wall so I wouldn't faint. I was so sick I didn't even feel human anymore. "How…how could you do this to someone?"

The man shrugged. "Like this." He flicked the knife in his fingers and stepped up to the bedside. I think I realized what was about to happen, but it didn't register fast enough, and I was helplessly silent as the man brought the knife across Roy's throat.

I saw the dark red liquid seep across his chest, his breathing jerk to a halt. I saw the man turn on me, his bloody knife pointed right at me. He said something that I didn't hear, pulled his hood off with a dark grin. He began to advance towards me, his familiar face moving with speech but my senses dulled.

I was going to forever regret this. Roy had been alive. But now his face was blank and empty with death. He hadn't felt the knife, he hadn't died conscious. But I could not imagine the pain he had been in before he had finally fallen into whatever coma I had found him in. My best friend was dead. Roy was dead. And I had helplessly watched him die.

The man was approaching, and I was still not registering what I was seeing. Roy was dead. Roy was dead. Roy was dead. The man, with his luscious blue hair and stony blue eyes, was almost in my face, but Roy was dead.

I felt the man's breath on my face, and it finally registered with my brain who I was looking at. Who had a knife at my chest. Who had killed Roy.

And that's when I screamed.

nex

I was so annoyed. Snake's 'research' had been proving fruitless, and he'd found every reason to blame everything but himself and his stupid technology. I didn't know this Roy person very well at all, but the idea that someone I did know was possibly in a lot of danger irritated and terrified me.

Then Falcon had come in, frantic. It'd taken a moment to understand what he'd said, but when I did, I felt my heart sink. Marth was missing. Gone. He'd kicked his window out and left.

So here we were, me, Falcon, Link and Snake, hunting the streets of the city, looking for the thin bluenette. It was almost one in the morning, and I was exhausted. There was no way we would find him. No way. If the idiot wanted to get killed, then that was his choice.

We were passing the old, abandoned warehouses on the southern edge of town as I considered turning around and calling it a night. And that's when Link stopped.

"Wait," he said. "…I just heard something."

"What?" Snake asked, turning around, wide awake as ever. Did the man ever sleep?

"It sounded like…a scream," Link said softly. I hadn't heard anything, but then again, Link was Hylian. His hearing was better than all of ours. "It came from over there."

He pointed over a tipped garbage can and down an alley, to the huge, cold steel structures. "In there?" Falcon repeated. "That doesn't sit well…"

"Stupid stereotyping," I said, swallowing roughly. Nothing could creep a person out like a faint scream near a prime horror story location. "Check it out?"

"Suddenly not so tired, eh, Angel?" Snake snipped, leading the way down the alley, as if he had known what I had been ready to start complaining about. Stupid fuck, I thought, leaping lightly over the garbage can with a flutter of my wings and following Snake.

Link shuttered audibly from behind me. "Shouldn't we call the police?" he asked with that quiet voice of his. "W-we're prime targets for that kidnapper… Or any evildoers…"

"Bullshit," I snapped, irritable from fear, "No kidnapper would touch Falcon or Snake. Too old." Snake elbowed me in the stomach, and Falcon caught me before I stumbled into him.

"No kidnapper would bother me because I'm too manly," Falcon said half-heartedly, as if trying to light an eternally dreary truth. I shrugged, doing a weird skip/ballet step thing to catch up with Snake, even though the old man appeared to be pissed at me. Which he always was.

"The police…?" Link asked again, even more quietly.

Snake threw out an arm suddenly, stopping in his tracks, and I ran right into him. "…Don't go any closer," he ordered, suddenly not sounding pissed at us. He almost sounded…afraid. He pulled a phone off his belt and tossed it to Link. "Call them. Call them and tell them to come immediately. We're going to wait until they arrive."

It took a moment for me to figure out what had made Snake so cautious so suddenly, but then I saw it: A door, painted a deep maroon by what looked eerily like dried blood. However, there were patches of bright crimson, shinning in the moonlight, so fresh they might have just appeared from nowhere in front of our eyes.

I wasn't angry at Marth for being a dumb prick anymore. The emotion had been replaced by absolute terror. What if we were too late? What if Marth was dead…?

We stood motionless, until there was the blare of sirens and Link returned, followed by the city police. They were in action instantly, gathering around the bloodstained door and demanding for us to tell them what we knew, which quickly turned out to be basically nothing.

One large, dark-skinned man who had the rankings of a police captain on his chest kicked in the door, and the force charged in. It all seemed like a blur to me. What would they find? I wanted to know. I wanted to know so badly… Snake seemed to sense this, and got a firm grip on my arm, to ensure I didn't run off and do anything stupid. I heard no gunfire, no talking, no nothing, and somehow that was even more terrifying.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the dark-skinned captain emerged, hat of his head, looking solemn. He approached us slowly but deliberately, with the air of one who was bearing bad news. Now I didn't want to know. I didn't want to… Suddenly, the possibility of us being too late seemed imminent. No…please, no…

"You're the friends of the missing Smashers, yes?" he asked quietly as he reached us. "I'm so sorry… They're dead. We found the red-head. He sustained multiple flesh wounds and appeared to have been assaulted in multiple ways… But it looks like his time of actual death was recent." He bowed his head.

"H-how…?" Falcon gasped, seeming to not have really grasped the horror of it.

"Slit jugular," the police captain said. "There was still blood flowing from the wound."

No way. No way. We had been too late. Just too late. So close…and now… I felt the emotion welling up in my chest, and it seemed impossible to fight back. We'd almost gotten to Roy. And now he was dead.

"What about Marth?" Snake asked, his voice quiet, yet seething with danger.

"Dead." The police captain looked right at Snake. "He was in the same room as the red-head… Killed by multiple stab wounds." His voice cracked. "He probably died just a few minutes ago, just after the red-head." He sounded bitter and remorseful, and looked back down to the ground. "We found numerous, older bodies, but no living people. The killer must have murdered the blue-haired boy and fled.

The scream. The scream Link had heard… I glanced at him. The Hylian had collapsed into a seated position, a look of absolute horror and pain on his ashen face. He was silent, but I could see the tears brimming at the corner of his sapphire-blue eyes. Falcon had buried his hands into his forehead, shaking violently with absolute fury. Even Snake was quiet, looking down mournfully at the concrete.

My own knees hit the pavement, scrapping the skin off them and sending a flash of pain up my legs, but I did not notice. I clenched my hands until blood dripped from where my nails dug into my palm, and my wings were curled so tightly against my back they ached.

They were dead. Marth and Roy… We'd been mere feet from them and while we had argued, they were being murdered. And their killer had gotten away with it. We hadn't acted fast enough. Marth and Roy were dead, and it was our fault for letting their murderer escape.

I lurched forward, caught myself with my crimson hands, and roared in frustration and grief, tears splattering the ground below.

We were too late.

nex

Ah, the sound of screams.

I shifted my position from atop my hideout, the neighboring warehouse to the one where so many had been mutilated and murdered. I'd panicked when I'd seen those annoying Smashers approach, but they'd stopped, giving me time to escape. I was still high from the thrill of the kill, and I probably wouldn't have been able to stop the four if they'd exploded in at such an inappropriate time.

My hands still smelled like blood, but that was probably because they were still drenched in it. In fact, my entire front was soaked with Marth's blood. He'd tried to run at the last second, when he'd finally figured out who I was, so my knife caught him in the shoulder instead of the throat. Blood got everywhere, and it pissed me off. I did not want that pathetic creature's fluids on my cloak. So I'd made his death painful, and stabbed him until I could see his ribs and lungs, deflated from multiple punctures, and his heart, beating faintly until I drove the blade through it and twisted until it snapped away from the aorta and vena cava. It was so satisfying to be rid of him.

Marth had been nothing more than a blot on my perfection. Someone like me did not need something as imperfect as him. He had baggage, he was clingy and needy and whiny. I knew he didn't really love me, but he tried desperately to convince himself he did. I played along, though every time he curled next to me and I felt his thin body against mine it took every ounce of willpower not to strangle him.

Now, Roy… He was a different story. Such beauty, such perfection. He was untouched, unmarked. I couldn't help myself when I saw people like that. I wanted that so badly. I wanted to take everything they had and turn it into my own pleasure. It angered me to see people so naturally unflawed… And it thrilled me to rip it all away. I'd done it multiple times. The poor ladies were having to settle more and more for normal boys. Those poor little rats. I can't stand women. Which is why I can't stand Marth.

Or, I couldn't stand Marth. Now he was gone. Part of me was sad: sad I could not have tied him down and cut him apart, slowly and deliberately. He was not perfect, so I wouldn't have done what I had done to Roy. He was the kind of creature who just deserved to be torn into tiny bits, slowly and methodically. One tiny slice at a time. What did a finger or toe or ear matter? And once his legs and arms and facial features were gone, I would have started on the torso, first the useless organs, then vital, slowly working my way to his heart and lungs…

Depressing he'd had to die so quickly. At least I had enjoyed being rid of him.

Pit's scream had tapered off long ago, but I could still hear the echo in my head. What a bother. If it hadn't been for Marth's sudden appearance in this graveyard of buildings, I might have gone after some of the other Smashers. I couldn't stand Pit, so I'd just cut his wings off and throw him into a lake with a big block of concrete. Link… He was nice enough. I'd actually been hungering for blood for quite a while, and Link had started to look appetizing before Roy strolled in.

Now I would have to leave and haunt another town of beautiful people. But I wasn't too upset. I was tired of this city, of the Smash games, and of the nuisance that had once been Marth.

It would be easy enough. I'd move away under a façade of depression at my beloved death. I snorted as I thought about that. Marth, my beloved? But really, I would lay low for a bit, pick some targets, and begin anew. I was good enough at this serial killer thing now that I would be fine. There were so many endless possibilities of where I could go.

I stood up, stretching. The police were beginning their investigation, helping the other Smashers leave the scene, to mourn in peace, pondering over where the psycho maniac killer could have gone. I almost laughed aloud. It was only amusing to me. There was no guilt in this work. I could only regret not having been able to make Marth's death more painful than anything he could have ever imagined. But he was gone for good now. They were all gone.

Roy had tried to slip back into a life where he didn't belong anymore.

Marth had tried to find stability in a world he himself tore apart.

They had, in their own ways, asked for forgiveness. But I did not forgive imperfection.

I pulled my bloodied cloak hood over my head, and walked away from the crime scene.

They would always be unforgiven.

Eleven months and six days have passed since I first posted Unforgiven… My life has been on a rollercoaster like nothing else. But it is done. The ending to Unforgiven is done.

I hope you people understand I will never be able to write like I did in the first chapter again. I was basically high on a lack of sleep and never before or since have I had such a strong, dire muse to write. But what is written here has been planned since I wrote the first chapter. You can actually tell where I've worked on it on different times, when the writing style changes. I wrote the first part early on, soon after Unforgiven was posted, but it died off until a few months ago.

I don't expect you people to love me after reading this. Not in the least. But it is a harsh reality that many stories do not have. Forgive me… Well, really, just don't flame. Complain maturely if you must.

This is the reality of the world of the Unforgiven.

the Moose.