Hey everyone! Thanks for giving my story a whirl. As a fan of CreepyPastas, I've always loved the fictional tragedy of BEN. Fair warning though, this story is about the origins of the tragedy, and is set, just months after the release of Majoras Mask. So, there will be little gameplay fiction, and more detective work. BUT! If you like BEN, or you just want to try something different, please stick around! Thanks-a-million! The "BEN DROWNED" creepy pasta videos can be seen online.

You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you?

-Happy Mask Salesman

March 13th 2001

Detective Elliotts sat at his dimly lit desk. A half burned cigarette was nestled neatly between his ring and middle fingers on his left hand, while his right hand supported his head from slamming directly into his paperwork below. He scratched his head, moving his short, greasy locks from side to side. He looked over to the clock that sat on the corner of his disheveled work space.

2:32 a.m.

Elliotts dragged his right hand across his face and then took a long drag off of the remainder of his cigarette. He'd been working far too much lately, and sleep was something of a distant afterthought. Unfortunately, as a man committed to his work, he couldn't rest until he'd put some dent, even the tiniest bit of progress into his latest work.

The familiar blinking of his desk phone finally forced him to look at it. The light was telling him that he'd not listened his most recent message. The blinking had gone on for hours now, but he knew if he'd listened to the message, he'd have to respond to his wife, asking where he was, and when he was coming home.

Detective Elliotts loved his wife, but unfortunately, his work was consuming him, and he didn't want to have to involve her. Of course, he knew, ignoring her was probably doing far more harm than good.

He finally reached over and pressed the playback button. He rubbed his eyes, as if to try and wipe away his exhaustion, but to no avail. A very angry version of his wife came over the line.

Seriously? Out again? Don't expect me to wait up for you…You better not be smoking again, either! Whatever, see you eventually, bye. Oh, and I'll just make up another story when your SON asks why his father isn't here to tuck him in…again!

A loud "clack" ended the message, indicating that the phone had been slammed back onto the receiver.

Elliotts exhaled in discontent, angrily smashing the remainder of his cigarette into the ash tray that was now completely full, on the edge of his desk. His wife knew him too well.

He looked down and picked up a confidential file. It was labeled:

Marcus Neilsman, Age 12, deceased, water in lungs.

He put the first piece of paper down, and picked up one beneath it.

Cassandra Seelia, Age 11, deceased, water in lungs.

Frustration began to creep into Elliotts' mind. He'd been dealing with this case for weeks. Multitudes of children, between the ages of 10 and 13, were mysteriously turning up dead in their rooms. As strange as that was, the cause of death was even more absurd. Each child, upon completion of the autopsy, was confirmed to have been drowned by fluid in their lungs. Not just any fluid though, just plain water. H2O.

Elliotts slammed his fist down onto the desk below. Fifteen children…drowned in their carpets or bed sheets? Impossible, and not within the window of time presented. Two months. There was no link between the deaths either. The only small clue obtained was that each child, within hours of their untimely deaths, was playing a N64 console. Unless the consoles were spewing water and hyper speeds, there was no way they were drowning these children. What was happening?

Elliotts jumped in shock as he heard the door from across the room open.

"Jesus, Elliotts, you're still here?"

Elliotts turned around in his swivel chair to see his partner, Detective David Matthews. The two had been partners for five years now. David (or Dave for short) was a rather large and stocky black man, with a shaved head, who always kept the office laughing, even in times of uncertainty and confusion…times like these.

"Dave…you scared the holy hell out of me…Yes, I'm still here. I just can't-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You can't catch a break in this case. But all of that might have just changed"

Elliotts perked up.

"Yeah? How so?

Dave reached to his side and rolled a black cart, with a large cardboard box on top of it, into the room. He rolled it over to Elliotts' desk and sat down in the chair beside him.

"There's been another one…"

"You're kidding me? Tonight?"

"Yeah, man. Just got this from the CSI team…We can't take it out of the bags, but we can at least take a look at what's in here...best we keep this a secret."

Elliotts nodded. At almost three in the morning, any evidence rolling into an office was probably unknown to high ranking members of the force. However, wrong…or illegal even, as it might be, Elliotts was desperate to find answers. He couldn't bear to answer the phone one more time to tell another parent that the case, regarding the death of their precious child, was colder than an Alaskan winter.

"What have we got here?"

Dave lifted the lid off of the box.

"Well, let's see…"

He reached into the box and pulled out what looked to Elliotts as a controller to the N64 console he'd purchased for his eight year old.

"One Nintendo 64 controller…black. This was in the little guy's hands when they found him…"

Elliotts took the plastic encased controller and looked it over. Nothing seemed amiss. He placed it, gently, on his desk.

"What else do we have?"

Dave, again, reached into the box and pulled out another clunky piece of equipment.

"This…Is the console itself. All they know is that it was on when his parents walked into the room."

Elliotts again took the bag and gave the console a quick once over before rolling his eyes and putting it down. Was the evidence team drunk? Why were they bringing him gaming consoles?

"Anything else? Something that might actually point to something that would actually solve this case? Or at least give me something to tell the damn parents?"

Elliotts' voice was now raised.

Dave rummaged through the box, once more.

"Let's see…cords…more cords…damn, this is a lot of cords…Nope, that's it, my friend."

Elliotts closed his eyes, leaned back in his chair and slammed both of his palms into his face. Under his breath he sighed his favorite four letter word starting with an F.

"Sorry, buddy, I better get this back…"

Elliotts nodded and reached for the items he'd sat on his desk.

"Whoa, hold the phone, I got something else. Didn't see it under all these damn cords."

Elliotts perked up and leaned forward in his chair. He could see Dave was squinting at whatever he was holding, trying to make something out.

"What? What is it? Dammit, Dave, what the hell is it?"

"Shhh… Hey, don't these Nintendo games usually come with art on the front of the cartridges?"

Elliotts shook his head in frustration, and Dave turned the item towards him.

"What the hell are you-…"

Detective Matthews was right. What he was holding was a gray cartridge, which appeared to have had its label torn off. But it hadn't been ripped off. The cartridge was smooth and had no sticker residue on it. A word that Elliotts couldn't make out was written across the front in a black marker.

"Let me see that…"

Elliotts took the cartridge, wrapped in plastic, into his hand. He held it carefully, as if it was of some extreme importance. He pulled the cartridge close to his eyes and held it under the lamp on his desk.

"It says "Major" or something like that…maybe it's some baseball game? Like, Major League Slugger, or something like that."

Elliotts squinted.

"No… it says… "Majora." But you're right…these games usually do come with a label on them. I've bought a couple for my kid…they all had labels."

Elliotts looked up to Dave.

"Are these bags resealable?"

Detective Matthews leaned his head to the side and gave Elliotts a strange look.

"Are you crazy? You know we can't review this stuff until we get cleared to, come on, we shouldn't even be looking at it now!"

"Well, we've come this far haven't we?"

Elliotts didn't wait for a response as he reached into the box and began pulling out the console's cords. He then carelessly ripped open the evidence bag containing the console.

"Are you insane? Do you want to lose your job?"

Elliotts still wasn't listening. He stood up and ran over to another desk that had a miniature TV on it. He whisked the small TV up and brought it back over to his desk and began hooking up the console.

"Hello? Elliotts? Will? Will? Are you listening? Earth to William 'rogue cop' Elliotts!"

Elliotts wasn't, in fact, listening. He was leaning under his desk plugging the AC adapter into the power strip beneath his desk. On the way back up, he slammed his head on the bottom of the desk.

"Son of a bitch! Dave, hand me that controller, if you would."

"You're out of your mind…I'm leaving!"

"Well, could you hand me the damn controller first?"

Dave starred and Elliotts for a second, shook his head, and sighed deeply. He then walked over to Elliotts' desk and grabbed the plastic wrapped controller. He looked at it for a moment, contemplating on whether or not to hand it over. But he ultimately knew his own curiosity would force him to. He slowly ripped open the bag and removed the controller. He then leaned over and handed it to Elliotts who was on the opposite side of the desk changing the TV channel to 3.

"Thank you…okay, It's on."

Dave watched as Elliotts moved his hand, awkwardly, around the controller. He'd never picked up a video game, and it showed.

"Will…buddy, listen to me. WE. ARE. GOING. TO. BE. FIRED! If they find out about this!"

Elliotts squinted as the TV lit up. The sound was turned off on the TV, but something was obviously catching Elliotts' eye.

"Will…are you listening to me? That's it! I'm done this time!"

Dave turned to walk away.

"Dave…"

"I'm, frikin, DONE, Will!"

"DAVE!"

"What!?"

Officer Matthews turned around once more to see Elliotts rummaging through papers on his desk.

"Ben…Ben, who is Ben?"

"Ben? Hmm…"

Dave scratched his head for a second. Then he snapped his fingers.

"Ben! Yeah, we had a file on a kid named Ben. Not recently, though, it's been at least a few months…November of last year, I think. His death wasn't ruled as suspicious…Why?"

Elliotts was wide awake, he felt adrenaline pumping. He continued furiously grabbing papers and comparing them to one another.

"And what happened to Ben?"

Dave scratched his head again, as if he didn't want to respond.

"Ben…uh…Ben Drowned."

Elliotts heart stopped. He turned his head slowly and looked at Detective Matthews. Then, without warning, he jumped and grabbed the TV with both hands and turned it towards Dave.

Dave looked in horror as he read the screen. The two data files within the game were both occupied. One on top of the other they spelled out, in all caps, screaming:

File 1: BEN

File 2: DROWNED

Elliotts looked down at the TV, and then back at Dave.

"Yeah…I figured that."