A/N: Okay, so I've had this idea in my head that I wanted to write a story based on the Disney theme parks. This little story is over five years in the making, and I think I finally know where I'm going with it. So, please bear with me because I'm just getting started on it. Also, the only character that is an original character is the monster.
The Kingdom of Shadows
Chapter 1: A Silent Night
By Disneydalemunk
During the day, Disneyland was a bustling park filled with families on vacation, hopes, dreams, and innocence. The joyous sounds of classic Disney music mixed with the contemporary BGM of yesteryear constantly filled the air from hidden speakers. The sounds of laughter and chatter echoed off the forced perspective buildings. The smells of ice cream and roasted almonds and flowers faintly attacked the senses. Even in the dead of winter, the warmth of the California sun eased people into a calm comfort. However, when the doors to Disneyland closed at night, and all the day cast members went home, when the music was silenced and the smells of fresh popcorn and turkey legs had faded, the park was so much more. At night, the park was magic.
A dark figure peered out from behind the firehouse and grinned to himself in a way that could only be described as mischievous. Luckily, third shift custodial wasn't around and the maintenance cast members were busy keeping their attractions oiled and repaired. The figure giggled softly and made his way toward the center of Main Street. His grin faltered slightly when he saw the statue at the far end of the street, the bronze glinting majestically in the moonlight. The figure hummed in disdain to himself and shook his head as he snuck toward the statue.
Making sure no cast members were loitering around, he slipped up onto the platform and carefully made his way past the poinsettias that had been planted for the Christmas season. The figure released a sigh as he crawled around the back of the statue and his slight grin burst into a full blown smile. On the back of the partners statue, by the base of Walt's left foot, was a small button that was both unnoticeable by the untrained eye and small enough to be covered up by the red petals of the poisonous Christmas plant. The figure grinned wickedly to himself and steadied a gloved hand above the small button. Quickly, before he could change his mind, the figure pressed the button with the heel of his hand and watched in astonishment as the bronze base swirled into itself and created a passage, just barely big enough for Mickey Mouse himself to crawl through. The figure silently pumped his hand into the air and slipped into the depths of the tunnel.
The figure crawled through the tunnel for a moment before it started to slope downwards and the ceiling gradually started to get higher. The air in the tunnel went from the cool crispness of a December night to the musky, earthen scent of an underground passage that hardly ever saw a living soul. Slowly, the figure descended, careful to not catch his blue slacks on anything that might tear the old fabric. The darkness around the figure began to swallow any point of light, but he was more than used to the suffocating blackness. Finally, after what seemed like days of endless crawling and then eventually walking upright, the figure happened on a small shred of light. A single torch hung from a grand ceiling, illuminating a door over thirty feet high. The door itself was made of dark mahogany and radiated power so ancient, it might have pre-dated the world itself. Barricades, pulleys, and levers cross-crossed across the door, warning any intruder to stay away, but the figure was far too engrossed with the designs.
Grinning to himself, the figure traced the ornate details across the door. Years of magic and Disney history had etched themselves onto the wood and created a sort of misplaced timeline. The figure felt his tear ducts begin to tingle when he spotted the carving that denoted the birth of Walt Disney. Shaking the tears away, he placed a gloved hand on the door and gasped. The door was thundering softly and rhythmically, almost as if it were alive. Biting his lower lip, the figure steadied himself with a deep breath and glanced upward. In the center of the door was a bronze keyhole, which was strangely disproportionate to the large door. The keyhole was slightly smaller than average, just big enough for a key that fit a toon's hand.
Furrowing his brow, the figure studied the door and slipped a bronze key from around his neck. The keyhole was well over fifteen feet from the base of the door, putting it at ten feet above the figure's head. Eliciting a frustrated grunt, the figure studied the small enclosure. The light from the torch didn't provide much light, but still it was enough to see that there was nothing in sight that he could use to get to the keyhole. Sighing, the figure rolled his shoulders back and flexed his legs. Clearly, he was meant to get a running start and leap toward the keyhole. After all, he was built for jumping.
Loosening his limbs, he stepped farther away from the door, key poised in his right hand, and took a running stance. After counting to three in his head, he rushed the door, and at the very last second, leapt toward the bronze plating. His jump was successful and the key slid gently into the hole and clicked softly into place. With a graceful twist, the key turned in the lock with a firm snap. The figure cackled a triumphant laugh and released the key, falling gently to the floor.
However, his laughter was cut short as a thundering boom shook the cavern, causing the dirt roof to rain debris onto the figure's head. He temporarily cast his gaze upward and flinched slightly when a chunk of dirt smacked him in the right eye. Brushing the soil from his face, he chanced a look back toward the door and cried out in alarm. The door had started to crack open and from the small fissures, a black tar-like substance began to snake its way into the world.
The figure yelped as the black mass thundered against the mahogany door splintering the wood slightly. With every deafening thump against the door, the tar-like substance came that much closer to entering the world. The figure narrowed his eyes and bit his lower lip in determination. The tar creature would NOT get out of its cell.
Bounding backward toward the tunnel entrance, the figure quickly turned around, narrowed his whole body into a leaping pose and pushed off the ground. He flew through the air with grace and steadied his shaking limbs. His hands grazed the top of the key and clenched onto the brass loop, sliding it out of the keyhole. With a soft thump, the figure landed safely on the ground. Suddenly, the rumbling silenced and the tar-like substance ceased to move.
The figure sighed to himself and held the delicate bronze key in his hands. Slipping it back around his neck, he proceeded to climb back up the tunnel and poked his head into the crisp night air. Slamming his hand back down onto the tiny button behind Walt's foot, he watched as the secret passageway sealed itself up. He breathed a soft sigh of relief and rested against the bronze statue. Removing the key from around his neck for the second time that night, he glanced up at the starry skies and smiled in a very melancholy way. "That didn't exactly go as I'd expected," he whispered and then pulled out a heart-shaped gold locket from his pocket. He flipped the clasp open and peered into the picture inside. A black and cream colored cat smiled back up at him and he brushed a few stray tears from his eyes. "I'm sorry, Ortensia. I tried. I really did. I thought... I thought I'd finally found a way for you to get out of the Wasteland. I'm sorry."
The figure slumped forward and breathed in the cool air of the very early morning. In just a couple of hours, the park would find itself bustling with guests, cast members, and characters. The smells of the day would come rushing back. The pristine cleanliness that Disneyland was famous for would return. The sounds of laughter and energy would be evident. The magic would be slightly diminished, making way for a bit of reality. And Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, would no longer be sitting at the base of the partner's statue, staring into a locket with his sweetheart's picture in it, and clasping a key made of bronze.