Zelda does not belong to me, in fact it belongs to Nintendo. I am writing this purely for amusment and will make no profit off it.

I walked down the stairs, carefully minding my footsteps as they were quite slippery and ill kept

I walked down the stairs, carefully minding my footsteps as they were quite slippery and ill kept. Ganon thought it added a certain décor to the dungeon. One would figure the spiders that hung from the ceiling like delicate nightmares, the darkness, and the putrid sweet stench of rotting flesh would do it for most people.

My errand was supposed to be simple, but oh how often it is that simple things go awry. I had come to find suitable parts…. for my experiments, and what better place to locate freshly expired corpses than Ganon's dungeons. I went to locate the Gerudo woman in charge of the prison only to find her gone on some sort of personal business.

In her absence she had left a moblin in charge, not really the brightest of creatures but very big and very dangerous. He let me through after lengthy argument, involving a lot of name waving from me and a great deal of grunting on his part. Not only did he refuse to help me with my errand he sent me to a little used section of the dungeon. My chances of finding any fresh parts here was slim.

As I was heading toward the cells it hit me. There wouldn't be fresh corpses but I could hear that strange moaning that often accompanied the movements of the redead. If there was anything I really hated it was those creatures. It was most likely they were locked up however. After all what sort of fool would let something so uncontrollable run around unchained. Still I flung the first door open with more force than was truly necessary. It banged with a great deal of noise against the wall and was accompanied by a soft clicking sound. How odd.

The cell was empty except for rusting chains and some long dried blood flaking on the floor. Nothing important to be taken from this cell. I tried several more cells all either empty or with bodies so far decayed that very little could be gleaned from them. I was feeling rather annoyed when I rounded a corner and the most shocking thing I had ever seen met my eyes.

It was like seeing my reflection in a mirror. There was a man hanging from the chains set in the wall. He was the same as me in stature. His face looked like a master sculptor had copied his features from my own. Even his hair looked to be the same texture as mine.

Ahh, but there were differences as well. My skin was pitch black, his fair. My hair looked like someone had spilled ink into it; his was an almost painfully bright color, reminiscent of a dried sunflower. My eyes red and his, well whatever color were they, he didn't appear conscious.

In fact it was very disturbing to see someone that could so easily be me, chained and bleeding from numerous wounds.

You know how it is when you want something only to find another has abandoned or discarded the same treasure you so desired? The moment was simply too opportune to pass up.

I did happen to have a set of skeleton keys for the dungeons due to my constant need to be in and out of them, so I made use of them at this time. I held onto the man in order that he shouldn't fall when I loosened the chains. He slumped onto my shoulder with that familiar weight, except the body that I was carrying this time was warm.

I managed to haul him up to the steps when I was surprised by the Gerudo prison guard. "You were very swift in carrying out Lord Ganon's orders weren't you?" she said in a voice like silk being ripped over glass. "I'm surprised you got down here this quickly, as you well know by now undoubtly you're to patch this one up, so that Ganon can play with him again soon", she smiled haughtily showing the bright purple paint on her lips.

To this I nodded in reply. It rather figured and it was silly of me to have aspired to something so good. But for some reason I felt a brush of annoyance when she ran a finger across the elf's leg. "Lord Ganon always does take the pretty ones" she purred. "I had best staunch his wounds before he bleeds out, dear lady" I said as a means of escape.

I carried the elf through the winding halls of the castle till I came to my chambers, which were at the end of a little used hall. I had heard from some of the Gerudo that a princess used to live in this castle. Perhaps this was true as the quarters which I dwelled in were rather girlish. Maybe they didn't suite a creature that dissected and remodeled the dead but I found myself unhappy at the thought of getting rid of them. My feet sank into the soft pink carpeting as I entered, with my living burden. The walls were hard stone but were softened by tapestries of unicorns and fairies. Books of fairytales lined the walls in profusion along with the books I had drawn of anatomy and decay. Soft floral sheets, delicate pastel bedspreads, and lacy pillows covered the rosewood bed. A delicate canopy infolded the bed in a snowy rush of thick lace.

But to carry out my orders I though it wiser to enter the next room which was more appropriate to the task. A large metal table stood in the center of the room, surrounded by more shelves containing scalpels, needles, thread, alcohol, bandages, and scraps of leather. There were several drains in the floor which I had added the deal with the, ah how to phrase this pleasantly, fluids from my experiments in reanimating the dead.

I felt a twinge of nervousness when I lay the elf down on the table. I had never attempted to heal someone who was living before, and the man was interesting, at least to look at. I didn't want inadvertently kill him. It didn't matter how much blood a cadaver lost, but if I did something wrong I could kill a living creature.

Well it was now or never. At least he wouldn't feel anything…….

………………………………………………………………………………………………

I dropped my needle into some alcohol to sterilize it and looked at the elf. He was still breathing but I really wasn't sure how to determine his condition. I wanted him to be alright, but I was also sort of afraid how Ganon would react if he died. The last time I hadn't gotten things done exactly what he wanted them, things had not been pretty……

I wrapped clean bandages around the sutures, hoping it would help prevent infection. Then I got up and flung the sad remains of the man's tunic into the scrap pile. This was the best I could do for him. I picked him up gingerly and carried him into the other room, rest would help an injured animal, surely it would assist him?