Alright, let's cut straight to the point.
Disclaimer : I do not own the real characters that these "texture" characters represent.
R&R Please~
If this chapter really does bore you, you can sneak a peek into the second and third chapters, where the horror and the reason this story is rated M will be obvious. Be aware of the blood, torture, and other violence that occurs in those chapters and beyond. SRSLY. The first chapter always sucks when I make them! DX
Chapter One : Target Sighted
The beginning of October, the scariest month, creators from every area begin to design their characters for the upcoming Machinima auditions. Everybody wanted to get in, either by their voices, their skills, their special talents, or for their own popularity and personal reasons.
Machinimas, were basically known as videos created by people. In the videos, characters, inanimate objects, and stages as well as their backgrounds, had things known as textures over them.
They would color over hair, over clothing, and even change skin color and eye colors. They made them dark, depressing, and scary to fit the Halloween themed videos.
Streaks of blood, practically just painted red, would stain clothes, fur, and faces. Covering textures in 'zombie'-like skin, or making pieces of flesh look missing, as a blob of crimson would cover the spot that would usually have clothing.
Some characters were modified, removing capes, shirts, overalls, hats, and even making textures completely nude. The easiest target would be a zombie Samus, as everyone wants to see her naked. Besides the full nudity, everything else being modified usually made the texture much more presentable to the Machinima judges.
Ah, how close the auditions were, to those aiming to get their name known.
Pathetic textures were rejected, good ones were accepted, that's how it's always been in this dog-eat-dog world. Rejected ones were thrown away, deleted, and never used or thought of again. Their purpose? To take over a physical appearance.
Textures could make anyone ugly, beautiful, or just plain funny-looking. They made you look fierce, sweet, or happy. They could have even made you into someone or something from a different world; the anime, human, and game worlds.
They were mere tools for our amusement, nothing more. Though... No one knew they had feelings, as well.
Not as if creators were to blame. Textures were beings created by modifying an original appearance, usually changing their personalities during the process. This was a method used to create dark versions of characters, such as Dark Link, Dark Samus, and Dark Peach.
These feelings were not listened to. Words that needed to be said were immediately erased from the texture's head, the moment they are given a task. It was as if brainwashing was present, when creating them.
October 18, Machinima texture judging day came, auditions closing, many rejected. A few creators' textures had been granted admission in future videos.
As suspected, the majority of videos were made to be published on or near Halloween. Luigi's Mansion and Wolf turned into targets by most Machinimators, thus the spawn of many stage and Wolf textures.
That admission would earn the creator of the texture fame for the video, and copies of the texture would either be sold at a high price or distributed for popularity to spark up. Rumors of "shitting bricks" if you saw the texture would spread, becoming even more attention-grabbing.
While the creator boasts, the texture follows what is told to do in the Machinima, wrap around someone and do as the someone wishes. Those textures, Non Failures, would move up, while the rejected are dumped away to what was known by them as the Alternate World.
The Alternate World, where all the unwanted textures dwell. It functioned just like other worlds, with buildings of bricks and wood, streets paved with asphalt, and a plain ground landscape.
This world consisted of only thirty-five residents; greatly underpopulated for a place that worthy of people.
Creatures in the area did not socialize regularly, and often fought one another when spotted. Independent textures roamed the whole land freely, and carelessly.
Since few textures actually needed food to survive, there were not many shops or buildings around. Trees covered areas that structures should have been on, oxygen was unheard of as textures didn't need to breathe, and temperature in the AW was eternally 76 degrees Fahrenheit.
Cloaks of darkness were wielded by every texture, helpful to hide identities from others, may they be comrades or foes. Those cloaks were simply known as CODs. They were made out of pure darkness, and no one knew who made them.
A boring place, in honest thoughts. The only excitement came from the fights that happened during the day or night, especially when blood could have been shed during it.
But when the thirty-sixth texture came... that was when the real fun could actually begin. The others would all gang up on one, and the death of the newcomer would be their goal.
However... October 31 was the date of the arrival of the 36th, in time for Halloween night.
Cursing, the cloaked texture limped into the forest to the east of the Alternate World. Right on it's tail, two more textures gave chase.
Halting, the first texture nodded to the other, going different directions through the area they knew so well. They planned to corner the newcomer in one area of the forest.
The two textures could only be described as silhouettes; one of Prince Marth Lowell, the other of the miniature Hero of Winds, Toon Link. The mystery texture, though perfectly cloaked in darkness, was obviously in the shape of a kid. This meant only Ness, Lucas, or another Toon Link texture was among the 35.
Countless amounts of trees passed by, all getting caught by the eye because of the moonlight making the leaves shine spectacularly. The textures easily dodged them, rather than getting whipped or snagged by the roots and branches.
The smell of earth made them want to sneeze, but held it in because of the noise it would make. As if the noises of fleeing and chasing like cat and mouse weren't loud enough, as they still kept the chase. It was only when Texture 36 began to get tired, that the chase actually began to lead to something.
Running purely on adrenaline, Texture 36 began to pant harder, slowing down from his original speed. The two behind him were getting progressively closer, not to mention that he couldn't even hear the sounds of them slowing down, or their supposed-to-be-audible panting.
It was only when he heard the rustling of rapid footsteps, that he finally lost concentration. He tripped over a root, foot stuck under it, only way to get out would be to remove his shoes or cut the root. Through the top of the trees, the moonlight began to show.
Groaning at his misfortune, he looked up from his gaze at his trapped foot to look directly into a pair of dark, crimson eyes, glaring at him, three feet away from his face.
The next thing the textures needed to do would be a purely bloody scene. As the population needs to stay as it always has been, one of two things could happen.
Either the acceptance of the new texture would happen, where everyone that inhabited the land would come together and take in the 36th. This obviously happened in previous times, as there used to only be 18 residents in the land altogether. This would make the newcomer a regular in the area, become untargeted, and become yet another of the independent roamers of the land.
Getting accepted, however, was going to be a tough thing to do. The texture would have to fend off three representative textures chosen by all of the textures. Basically, survive the brutal attacks of getting ganged, and you're in. Because of the harsh necessities, most would rather accept their fate and take the latter option.
The latter option, was surrendering to the opposing textures. Putting down his or her weapon, and promising to not do anything that may cause death to anyone or anything, would get the texture a happy ending.
Lies. There's no such thing as a happy ending. The harsh truth, is that the surrendering texture will be tortured, enslaved, made a toy of, and every other option to bring pain, emotionally and physically, and thoughts of suicide to swirl around the texture's head.
Sadly, this was where the texture would be subjected to.