Author's Note: Like all fanfiction, the disclaimer applies. This will reflect not only the film but also the novelization "Return to the Labyrinth"; the latter far more loosely. Rated M so almost anything goes. There will be violence and smut and it will be detailed. What is a story without details after all? Not sure what qualifies as M? I challenge thee to go to and see for yourself—however some of what you see may disturb you. I know it does me.

Mature: "Titles in this category may contain more blood and gore than the Teen rating would accommodate, sexual themes/content/references (which are censored, most case) and vulgar language. This content is strong in impact. Most retailers do stock games with this rating, but have a policy of not selling them to people under 17 without parental approval. Age restriction: 17+."

If you read this fanfic, I'm going to assume you got your parent's approval. The way I see it, M = Mature; Mature = relative mindset. So in short, just because you're 40 years old doesn't make you mature.

Also, FYI, Irene IS Karen. It says so in the novelization. Why everyone calls her Karen is beyond me. Furthermore, what you read is more or less a draft—like a pre-screening of a movie. If it's accepted, I'll leave it up. If not, I'll tear it down and rework it. With that said, it'll never meet my complete satisfaction. I am my own worst critic after all.

Rated for: Blood, Intense Violence, Nudity, Suggestive Themes, Sexual Themes, Strong Sexual Content, Strong Language [content subject to change]

"As The World Falls Down…Again"

Chapter 1:

Sarah Williams. Tall and thin with porcelain skin and emerald eyes. The figure every actress wants to have. One would think she would one day join the ranks quickly and easily. One would be wrong. The beautiful young woman, barely nineteen years old, had become a hallow shell of her former self.

Money was tight and so she couldn't get into that prestigious college she dreamed of going to. "You need a GPA of 4.0," they said. "You only have 3.8," they said. With those two sentences, they obliterated her hopes and her dreams. She had walked away empty handed. No hopes, no dreams, and certainly no scholarships. She tried to find jobs but since she lacked experience in everything except babysitting, they turned her down. Her father, Robert Williams, offered to work double-time to help pay for her books but she declined; he still worked double-time anyway. It was bad enough she was living at home still; at least, to her pride. With her dreams behind her and long forgotten, she focused more on her schooling and took up teaching. She still didn't have much to pay for her books but the college was cheaper and was close enough where she didn't have to stay on campus.

So here she sat at the breakfast table with her baby half-brother, Tobias, shrieking in his high chair rereading the newspaper to find another job listing.

"Come on Toby," Irene, her stepmother and Toby's mother said exasperatedly as she tried to push the spoon of oatmeal into his mouth, "Please eat."

Instead he knocked the spoon out of her hand causing it to clatter loudly on the linoleum floor. Sighing, Sarah got up, went to the drawer and pulled out another spoon.

"Here, let me try," she said as Irene cleaned up the mess. "I don't know what he's fussing about. He loves oatmeal."

Sarah tickled him making him squeal in laughter. Taking the opportunity, she pushed the spoon into his mouth, his mouth closing reflexively around it. He made a face as if to spit it out.

"Swallow," she warned raising an eyebrow and he immediately complied. She continued the process of feeding Toby as Irene just stared at them.

"Oh, dear! Look at the time! There's a Neighborhood Watch Council Meeting tonight. Sarah, do you mind watching Toby?" she asked, looking at her expectantly as she stood by the door-jam leading into the dining room and living room."Sure," she said looking up at her. "It's not like I got anything better to do…" she muttered returning her attention to the giggling baby.

She wasn't sure why Irene goes to those meetings. She'll probably offer them tea and something to eat; offering them to come back again. She snorted softly at the thought.

Once the boy was fed and tucked away with her old teddy bear Sir Lancelot to guard him, she retired to her old room to study.

"Fanfiction is like clay. One molds it into a bowl and you, in turn, transform it into a vase."

Moppet was terrified of him. For almost two years he had her locked up here in this tower. The room looked vaguely familiar but she couldn't remember why. The man had left her huddling in a corner, her knees to her chest and arms around them. She sat there for a few more heartbeats before deciding it was safe enough to move once more. Tentatively, she unfolded herself and walked towards the bathroom deciding she needed a hot bath. The set up was simple enough.

The rectangular room wasn't large but it wasn't small. Looking around, she saw a single standalone sink and a standard toilet on her immediate right, and a claw-footed tub on the far end of the room. It was all made out of white porcelain. A little wooden closet stood off to her left between the sink and tub, full of bathing supplies. It, too, was painted white, No painting. No tapestries. Nothing hung on the walls which were made of stone though it was hidden behind white paneling. Not a hint of color could be found in the room. White, fluffy rugs marked the items in the room on the otherwise clean white tile floor.

He had faltered today, calling her "Sarah". She had no idea who this "Sarah" person was. She shook her head vigorously. She was Moppet. Found by the Trash Ladies then taken to the Goblin King. As she sank deeper into the bubbly water, she struggled to remember something, anything that happened before she was found. She came up with nothing.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there. Her room had no window or even a door save the one that led into the bathroom. She wasn't sure if it was day or even night. The water was getting cold. She gave a slight shiver and got out of the bath. Using a large fluffy white towel, she scrubbed her hair dry before wrapping it around herself. She padded back to her room and to her small vanity, ignoring the small tray of food sitting at the large desk. She sat down and took out her brush.

"One…two….three…" she counted strokes.

Each side had to be brushed one hundred times to keep it from frizzing. Once done, she got up and stood before the full-body mirror. She was pretty. Or rather, she thought so despite the goblins mocking and ridiculing her when she was found in the Junkyard. Speaking of which, she thought as she looked around for her goblin mask. She found it under the bed. Grabbing it, she stood before the mirror again. She was tall and thin. Probably too thin to be healthy, she thought as she dropped the towel and poked her belly lightly; though she was pleased with the slight tanning of her skin. Her hair was blonde, thick and curly and her normally bright blue eyes were a dull color. Sighing, she put her mask on. The mask helped hide her. The goblins normally ignored her when she wore it. It made her feel…safe. But he doesn't like it, a soft voice hissed in her mind. It was a simple white half-mask with a long, thin and pointed nose. Taking the mask back off with a sigh, she set it on the night stand before getting dressed and climbing to bed to slip into a dreamless sleep.

"Fanfiction is like clay. One molds it into a bowl and you, in turn, transform it into a vase."