Yoshi Underground

Authored by Santuh Klozzy

Sadly, I don't own Yoshi or any other Mario characters. Some of the characters in this story, however, I DO own. Can you guess which ones?

Prologue: Invasion

Out of the blue, the island fell.

Over a year of war and holocaust began on a cold January night with the entire Yoshi Isle wrapped in a dark, windy blanket. You see, it was the middle of January and winter was at its worst. A bitter, stinging frost covered the northern islands in the Yoshis' isle. Wind was constantly blowing, and a dense black cloud covered the sky and summoned the snow and the wind.

In the port town of Barg, nothing was stirring. All the shops were closed and locked up for the night. Only a few of the bars or lounges were still open. In one such bar, a red Yoshi and two blue Yoshis were assembled quietly, loitering around a pool table. The only other person in the bar was the dull gray bartender. Nobody knew his name, and nobody really cared to know, either. No one talked to him and in return he talked to no one. He was hunched over at the bar, cleaning a stack of mugs with a dirty cloth he carried around in his pocket. Something caught the bartender's attention. He hobbled over to one of the bar's many small, porthole-like windows and looked out into the darkened street. Had something just passed by the window? He shook it off and went back to cleaning. As soon as he finished another mug the church bell rang, signaling one o'clock. To him it seemed the sky had darkened, and an eerie silence was the result of that. Even the patrons stopped their murmuring and looked about, all of a sudden aware that the bartender was standing perfectly still, with a dirty mug in one hand and his cloth in the other.

"You okay?" Somebody asked in a hushed tone. The bartender shook his head.

He was looking out a different porthole window that gave a clear view of the sea. Until now there was nothing strange about it. It was like a great black field that stretched on forever. The bartender kept staring. Something was out there. Something was in the pitch-blackness of the sinister, plutonian sea. The sky was so dark that he could not see anything except for an occasional wave rising up or a fleeting seabird. Then something lit up the darkness. Out at sea there was a bright red beam. It was strange and cone shaped, like a lighthouse's beacon. However the beam was an unearthly red color. Likeglowing blood. The beam seemed to be shooting up out of the surface of the water. The bartender's eyes widened and his jaw hung open. He walked over and grabbed his jacket off of a hanger next to a window, then the bartender looked back at the crowd of patrons. They were watching him, dumbfounded.

"Well?" He said. No response. The Yoshis just kept staring, not uttering a single word. He growled something under his breath. Still nothing. They just kept staring, in a state of total silence. "Any of you got a boat?" He said. The red one opened his mouth to say something, and then shut it again. "Alright. Okay. I should be back in a while." The bartender headed towards the door. He opened it then turned back. "Don't steal any of the drinks. I'll notice." With those being his final words, the bartender left the silent bar. A couple minutes after he had gone, one of the frightened Yoshis had the courage to say in a hushed voice. "What the hell?"

Outside it was much, much darker than the bartender had previously believed. It was absolutely, completely pitch black. The only light was an ever-so dim red luminescence that had fallen over the unaware town. Behind him, a cat hissed and a door banged open. He stumbled his way towards the general direction of the wharf. The wind had a high-pitched whistling sound, like a kettle boiling. The bartender rounded a corner and came into view of the long wooden planks and small straw shacks that signaled he was on the right path. He started power walking the rest of the way, keeping an eye out for his destination. Finally it appeared in front of him: A small, wooden shack with a straw roof. The sign on the front was scratched and worn from years of enduring the rough weather. The bartender rammed his shoulder into the door, knocking it open. There wasn't much inside aside from some crates and a desk. At the desk sat a small Yoshi, wrinkled and old. He was a dull brown color and had on a pair of huge spectacles. He seemed to be annoyed by the fact that the wind was causing the shack to make several odd creaking noises. He had a look of momentary disbelief as the old Yoshi entered.

He looked up. "You need something? Or are you just stopping by to say hi? I'm fine with either one, really."

The bartender shook his head. "I need a boat. There's something out in the bay. I'm going there right now to take a look."

The owner of the shack shook his head "Impossible in this weather. It's gotta be at least negative ten degrees outside. Plus, the wind out there is going to tear any boat I have to shreds. Then I have to pay for it. Understand?"

The bartender gave a deep, scratchy sigh. "Well then you're just going to have to come with me to make sure the boat is fine. Now listen to me. I don't have time for this. We need to get out there before the thing I saw is gone." With this being said, he grabbed the arm of the brown Yoshi. "Let's go."

The old Yoshi protested until they got out onto the wharf. Then he became slightly confused at the red glow that Barg was basking in. "What are we…" He began with a tone of horror in his voice. The Yoshi made one or two more feeble attempts on the way to the boats. By the time they arrived at his small part of the wharf where he kept his boats that he rented, he had given up any attempt of prying an explanation from the bartender.

The bartender sat silently for a second, surveying the boats and trying to decide on the sturdiest and fastest. He picked one that he had seen before. It was a small, well-built boat that was big enough for about two or three people. It was made of some sturdy wood that the owner of the boats said came from some northern forest.

"We're taking this one." He announced. His voice was so concrete that the boat's owner didn't attempt to argue. They climbed in and untied it from the wharf.

"Where are we going, exactly?" The owner asked. He was desperately hoping they were not going to head in the direction of that eerie red glowing.

The bartender looked at him, with his head cocked to one side. "Where do you think, old man?" He paused. "That light is our destination. It may be a distress beacon, or a light from some machine. Maybe something's out there." He chuckled. "Maybe we'll find aliens." With that, he turned around and started rowing. So began the short and ultimately unfortunate journey that started one of the greatest holocausts in Yoshi history.

The church bell rang two by the time the boat had gotten out far enough into the sea. They had a good view of the city and the pillar of bloody light that shone out of the waters. They set off, paddling, unaware of the dangers that this held. It seemed to stop snowing as they got within one hundred yards of the pillar. It was at this point that the sheer immensity of it was understood. The pillar, or whatever you may call it, was at least twenty yards in circumference and it was disturbingly bright. A faint whooshing sound came from it, and there was neither sound nor movement aside from that. The pillar did not turn, nor vibrate, nor distort itself in any way. A single, unusual column of light emitting the sound of wind even though all wind seemed to have died here.

"What in the…" were the only words that the boat's owner could utter. He was in shock and disbelief. There it was. The pillar of light that was so bright that they could not see on the other side of it. Surely someone back in town had seen it too? Perhaps. Thought the bartender. He reached and was so close he could touch it. Without any forethought, he extended his hand and let his fingers touch the surface of the brilliant cone-shaped beam. It was warm to the touch, but he felt no strange sensation. It seemed like a supernatural patch of heat and light. For a second the bartender thought about turning around and heading back to the bar. He was longing for its familiar surroundings and sounds. Yet something tied him to this pillar. What was it? Why was it here? How long would it last here? He drew his hand back, shivering from the ghostly thoughts of what this could be.

No sooner was his hand safely at his side then something strange happened. The cone started widening. Actually widening! It seemed to be opening up and fanning out. It became larger around the base and the top part of it seemed to grow wider as well. Now the tip of the boat was immersed in the light. Then there was a bang like a firecracker and the part of the boat that was touching the cone seemed to glow for a second and then burst into fire. Panicking now, the bartender grunted and turned around to begin rowing. They had to get away from here, he thought. Whatever it was they would come back in the morning with-

He never finished his thoughts. In a sudden flare of brilliantness, the cone billowed forth another five yards, consuming the boat and turning it and its passengers to a single floating flame. With this, strange things began appearing at the center of the cone. Supernatural beings or simply strange energies…whatever it was, it signaled the beginning of the war.