Carnival of Darkness.
Judithan does not own!
NOTE: I never put notes at the beginning of stories, since it just fills up room and nobody reads this, but please read this note. If you do not know what the BEN- Majora's Mask creepy pasta is, then PLEASE, do us both a favor, look it up before reading this fic. It will answer so many questions that I don't feel like answering. If you don't read that first, but you read this, it'll make as much sense as doing algebra before you can count. Just do it.
(x)
I can feel the ripping, slow and steady, my flesh tearing apart. It's not quiet a physical sensation, not something that can be observed through the normal means of touch, taste, etc., but something felt within the mind, encasing you yet abandoning you. It's a feeling that can't be truly expressed in words. But regardless of whether it can be described, it is happening to me, and I can feel it, the burning feeling at first, searing throughout my body, only to be replaced with a feeling of numbness, like drowning in acid. It's only a matter of time, now.
"Why am I –" It was so choked out, so forced, because I could hardly breath with the way my lungs felt they were flooded, the acid lake burning the inside of my lungs so quickly and cleverly. After speaking, however, whoever it was that had me with such a vice-grip began to pull on my hair, dragging me out of the acid just to burn my flesh once more with the metallic instrument of their choosing. It burns, so horribly, the numbness subsiding just to let in a feeling of agonizing pain, like tip of a recently fired gun. It burns, it burns, it burns. I can feel the ripping again, and my only thought is that this creature that is destroying my flesh is half-man half-wolf, because the fangs he possesses are able to go through my soft flesh so easily, annihilating the nervous system of my body.
Though, he'll find me. My hero, he'll save me from this torture, this feeling of being drowned and burned and eaten alive all at once. He'll find me, he'll find me, and I'll be saved- finally.
"Link, there you are!"
Almost as though on cue, the man was here, finally, to save me from this burning sensation, this eroding of my limbs. Though, despite the desperate way he clung to me so closely, I could still feel the burning of my flesh, so raw and devoured, and it still hurt as he held me so tightly. At this point, it was safe of me to assume that this man, this caretaker of mine, was concerned, which I think is highly amusing, in and of itself.
"How did you even get this far from your room?" Curiosity was obvious in the gent's voice, and being the obedient dog I am, abused and abandoned, I answered to his wondering.
"I was dragged."
"By who?"
"I don't know, but I could feel my hair being yanked. I could feel whoever it was burn me, over and over, cutting me, clawing at me." Details were never hidden, between my caretaker and I. I'm almost 110% positive that any abuse that I sustained was only a mental sensation, but regardless of whether any of my legitimate flesh was devoured or scorched, I could feel it through means of a sixth sense, more intimate than anything describable.
"Why would anyone do that?" Oh, the look on his face! Absolutely priceless! A trembling brow clenched just so, and a frown that was conflicted between staying as is or adding a pouting angle of distaste or anger. What a clown.
"Because he-" I paused, adding suspense. His only visible eye looked at me with a look that was just so, and it made my insides light up with happiness. Quite a rare sensation, happiness was.
"What does he want?"
"He wants the answers I possess." Whether or not it was true didn't matter, because this is what I felt happen, this is what I could hear and touch and smell; a yearning for answers, a hot metal of sorts burning into my skin, and the pungent scent of fear. It didn't matter what I saw, or heard, because this was enough to satisfy my imagination and his curiosity. It was enough to satisfy both of our innate insanities.
"Link, what answers could you possibly have that would be worth as much as torture?" Shaking arms removed themselves from my shoulders, and his equally clumsy hands were placed firmly on my shoulders. Even though his mouth was almost fully covered by that hideous eye-pattern shawl he wore like a scarf, I could still see his lips pursed in a deep, worried frown. I was elated.
"About the night," I positioned myself slightly off the floor, so that I was just tall enough to whisper huskily into his pierced ears. "About the moon, about the mask, and why I stole every single one of their lives. He wants to know why I did it; why I wore that mask." I could feel the terror pressing into his veins. I could feel my nails clawing at his heart, turning his white skin into a pastel red. "He wants to know why it was that I became Majora." My claws broke the skin.
He screamed, attempting to pry my deranged self off of him. Fortunately for him, I had just gone through a brutal four minutes of torture, prior to confession as to why, and so I was unable to pin him to the floor and kill him just as lovingly as I had to every single one of those unfortunate souls in Termina. I would have laughed a bit at his disheveled appearance –oh, the crime that it wasn't caught on tape! - but my voice was only cooperating enough to confess my slaughtering.
"There's something horribly wrong with you." For someone who had only survived what I was planning on being the injection of my virus into his clean, unsoiled mind by the mere fact that I had been tortured vigorously before hand –perhaps even by my own hand- I had to admit that he was incredibly calm. He was much, much calmer than that horrible man-child with his stupid fox-mask. Oh, how his screams still filled my soul with both joy and resentment.
I smirked at him in response, giving him a little bit of an extra show by licking the blood that now stained my fingers. He grimaced.
Moments later, I found myself strapped to a metal cart, being taking away. All the way there, I simply kept shouting the same thing over and over again to my darling caretaker, my benevolent victim, my iridescent love.
"You shouldn't have done that! You shouldn't have done that! You shouldn't have done that! You shouldn't have done that!You shouldn't have done that!"
I could only imagine what his last thoughts were, as I held his head underwater. But, from what I could tell from his beautiful, crimson eyes, they were just like everyone else's; shallow, empty, and worthless.
(x)
In case you got lost, it's pretty much about Link, in an insane asylum, and one day, he ends up going entirely fucking batshit, but with reason. BEN has infected him, and it's only a matter of time before he's completely possessed. When Sheik finds him, Link still has some of himself left, but is quickly loosing, finding himself more pleased with Sheik's terror than worried by it. In the end, BEN takes him over completely -while he's in solitary confinement- and once he gets out, he gives Sheik one final performance, and drowns him, just like how he did to Link in the BEN creepy pasta.
I swear to God, or any other possible deity, if anyone asks me who BEN is, or tells me that this thing makes as much sense as wearing socks outside of your shoes, I will go through the computer and strangle you. Don't think I won't.
Anyway, review and yadda yadda. Flames are always fun, just use proper grammar.