Version 2.0: Revised and Edited
Enjoy
She was alone, abandoned by her father in this war zone with the promise that he would be back for her later. Not soon, but later. When was later?
She wanted her mommy but she had disappeared before the start of the war and hadn't returned. The little girl believed her mother was dead. The little girl wasn't defenseless of course; otherwise her father wouldn't have left her, right? She wanted to believe he wouldn't have. She was a vampire, still adjusting to life as an undead person, her pale skin appearing grey in the cold. She had pointed ears and black hair and wore a blue jumper and little red Mary Jane shoes, but nothing to keep her warm during this horrible, freezing, cold. She was, by all accounts, ill prepared for the cold of this world. How could her father leave her like this?
"Daddy," sniffled the little girl by a rundown building. It was almost the end of the Great Mushroom War, and the beginning of a terrible nuclear winter. There was almost no one alive. Those who were were on the verge of death, radiation from the nuclear bombs shutting down their fragile organ systems, and the cold freezing them solid in their agonized positions. The little girl was scared to be on the streets but the alternative was staying inside waiting for the cold to reach her. Waiting to die like the rest of the population. Moving around constantly gave her hope that all was not lost.
She started walking again, not having a set destination—not that it would have done any good. She made the mistake of looking inside a ruined building for any sign of survivors. Instead of living humans, all she saw were the charred remains of a family. Horrified she looked away, looking anywhere but inside buildings. She saw downed power lines, collapsed buildings, and fallen trees everywhere. Suddenly the thought of never seeing another living being overwhelmed her. She stopped walking and looked at the sky despairingly.
She started crying again, wanting her daddy… even if he did abandon her to go to the… what did he call it? The Nightosphere? Yeah, that was it. She cried louder, crying for her daddy, crying for the loss of people and their own families, her soft private cries becoming audible keening sobs. She still felt resentful towards him and his decision to leave her alone on the surface to gorge himself on the souls that ended up down there. She started to calm down, her cries still echoing in the desolate wasteland.
She heard footsteps and she looked quickly behind her, hiccupping with fright and hastily wiping her eyes. She saw a strange blue man with white hair, glasses, a beard, and a gold crown with jewels tied to his side. She narrowed her eyes, she was almost sure that wasn't how you wore a crown.
"Who are you?" she asked her voice wavering slightly, not believing her eyes, scared that he wasn't real, or worse, a dying man. He started speaking, which alleviated her fears slightly.
"My name is Simon, what's your name little girl?" he got nearer and knelt beside her, making Marceline feel nervous, he wouldn't be able to hurt her of course, her demon of a daddy wouldn't allow it, she was sure, but his strange appearance was putting her off. He was really different from the rest of the humans she had seen before The War, his nose oddly shaped for a human and blue. He was blue. Why was he blue?
"Why are you blue?" she asked instead of answering his question. He looked thoughtful for a moment before he answered her question, his eyes glazing over from not blinking.
"I don't know. Why aren't you?" he asked the little girl before blinking a couple of times, cocking his head to his right.
"Because people aren't supposed to be blue, duh, Simon," she responded, rolling her eyes, feeling a bit more at ease with the strange blue man, finally overlooking his strange coloring and long goblin-like nose.
"Who is Simon?" asked the strange man, standing up suddenly. The small bit of trust she was built for him evaporated some.
"Wha-?" the little girl asked uncertainly, a confused look on her face, masking fright, "You are. Aren't you? You just said your name was Simon."
"Did I?" questioned the blue man tilting his head again to no one, "Who are you?" He looked around for the source of the voice: a little girl about waist high.
"My name is Marceline," said the little grey girl, her confused look replaced with one of doubt. Was this man okay?
"Pleased to meet you Marceline, my name is Simon," said the strange man, confusing and annoying Marceline further.
"You said that a while ago and then you couldn't remember!" exclaimed the pale child, frustrated, "It's not nice to play tricks on people!" She crossed her arms and frowned, unhappy that the only person she'd met was being incredibly rude and cryptic.
"Oh, I did? I'm sorry Marceline, but I am having trouble remembering things right now," explained Simon. He knelt again beside her, trying to make her feel better and make her smile, "where are your parents?"
He hadn't meant to make her sad, she knew that; he didn't know her. Nevertheless, her eyes began to tear up again; a fat tear rolled down her wan cheek. She felt the weird man beside her shift towards her. He brushed her tears away and held her gingerly. She stiffened and stopped crying, not used to close contact from another person. Her father had never embraced her like this, so she wasn't sure how to react. She breathed in shallow breaths, leftover tears falling onto the lapel of the man's jacket.
"I'm sorry Marcie, I didn't mean to make you cry," Simon said in a sorrowful voice.
"My mommy is dead I think," sighed the little girl, not protesting the nickname, "and my daddy left me alone up here while he tended to things in his kingdom" she said the last word as coldly as she could muster.
Simon pushed her away roughly then, and stood up suddenly, startling Marceline. His eyes looked glassy and unfocused again. The crown she had noticed on his side had somehow ended up on his head.
"The cold is my savior, the frost is part of me, and the ice is my kingdom," he muttered to himself, walking away from Marceline, leaving her behind and confused.
"Simon?" she asked softly, wondering what made him different all of a sudden.
"Who is Simon?" asked Simon his voice strange again, still walking away from her at a brisk pace.
"Simon! Where are you going? Simon!" Marceline cried out, "please don't leave me!"
She tried to follow him, but his legs were longer and soon he turned a corner and disappeared before she could catch up to him. She stumbled to a halt, miserable to see the only kind humanoid leave her without even an explanation.
She started to cry again. The kind man she was starting to get used to, had just left her alone amongst the destruction of the world. He was just like her father.
"Dad—daddy" hiccupped Marceline, tears fresh in her eyes and trailing down her pallid cheeks. She didn't want her daddy to keep her here any longer; she wanted to go home… wherever that was.
She wanted to be hugged again, to be comforted. She wanted all of this to be a nightmare, one she would eventually wake up from. Her head was hurting from crying so much, her unbeating heart breaking for the world, and her stomach turning once she saw pieces of human littering the streets further ahead.
She heard gravel shifting and footsteps again; she didn't have to turn around again to know who was behind her. Simon hastened towards her and wiped the tears from her cheek. She sniffled, wiping her eyes with a grubby fist and he walked quickly to a ruined toy store. He picked up something from the ruined window display and presented the funny toy to her. She looked up reluctantly, still upset at him, saw the toy, and accepted it slowly, smiling weakly; it was a reddish pink stuffed toy with long arms and legs. She started thinking of a suitable name.
"I'm sorry Marceline," said Simon fervently, embracing her again, this time Marceline hugged back, "I can't… explain it properly. This crown…" he sighed, looking exhausted, "I think it's making me crazy. It's erasing my memories, I believe. I can't remember what it makes me say. I'm sorry if I made you cry, I swear it wasn't me it was this accursed crown. Please forgive me; I don't seem to recognize anything at random moments."
Marceline looked up from the bearded man's shoulder and wondered why he didn't just ditch the crown if it was making him act strange, but she didn't want a repeat of what happened a few minutes ago. Simon looked down at her and read the question written clearly on her puzzled expression.
"I know what you're wondering, my dear," he said, pushing her away gently, "why don't I just rid myself of this crown? Well if I did that, I wouldn't be able to survive this world. It is because of this crown that I'm able to live; its magic is keeping me alive. I hate its influence over me… i-it… it is because if the crown that I lost my princess."
Marceline looked at him in wide-eyed wonder.
"You had a princess?" she asked in awe of this strange, blue, scholarly man.
Simon smiled at her innocent thoughts, but it slowly turned into a weird half grimace. "No, it was just a term of endearment for my fiancée, Betty. I-I put the crown on just for a minute… to make her laugh, but… something happened." He closed his eyes, as if trying not to cry. Marceline waited for him to continue his story, enthralled.
"This crown, oh this crown," Simon ran his hand through his shaggy white hair mournfully before continuing; "it made me say something crazy or something. All I remember was, when I regained consciousness, she made me leave. She never wanted to see me again. And now… and now I never will." A cold tear fell into his beard, despite his best efforts, at the memory of losing his beloved princess.
Marceline, wanting to cheer up her new friend, took her toy and brushed away a newly formed tear from his cheek with the stuffed toy's paw. Simon looked at her and gave her a watery smile which she reciprocated with a bright one of her own.
"I think I'm going to name him Hambo," she stated, smiling proudly, hoping to distract him.
"Hambo, huh? Why?" asked the icy man, taking the respite she offered. He needed to stay sane, to avoid painful topics, and to stay with the little girl who had gave him hope to live again.
"I always wanted a pet and I would've named him Hambo if daddy had let me," she said precociously, not mentioning her daddy was Lord of the Nightosphere. She was sure that bit of information would scare him away.
"Alright then, well does Hambo want to find a warm place to sleep tonight before the nuclear cold makes him sick?" inquired Simon, concerned for little Marceline's health. She looked at her doll.
He stood up straight then, looking around for possible places to spend the night, away from the broken bodies littering the streets behind him. He felt her small hand grasp his fingers and he looked down. She nodded, hugging Hambo closer to her chest and looked ahead. He looked forward as well, not towards the buildings burning and crumbling in front of him, but to a future where he would be with this little girl, keeping her alive and happy.
A/N: It's a little different from the original version, yes, but in a good way I hope.
Maybe if I get enough reviews I'll post another chapter, making it a two-shot... just a thought.