A/N: For Paradigm of Writing's Comfort Zones Do Not Exist in Writing contest.

So here it is, the most disturbing story I've ever written. I've written about none of these characters in a setting I've never done and in a genre that gives me nightmares. This also puts me over the 100K total word mark. Hurray.

This is a modern AU, so locations, relations (e.g. Marth and Lucina are uncle and niece instead of decedents), personalities, and ages have been changed. Little Mac and Marth are about thirty-six years old, and Peach is twenty-seven. Lucina is younger, about twenty-two, and the character yet to be introduced is about sixty. You might be wondering why I changed their ages. Well, me too.

Serious, I hope you enjoy. Don't forget to check out everyone else who's entered in the contest. I really appreciate this contest and what it's trying to do. This is far beyond my comfort zone, and I feel like I've push myself beyond what I normally write. I hope you enjoy Bad Habits, because I enjoyed writing this. See you at the end.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my crappy writing and what's left of my basic human decency. Nintendo owns the characters and stuff. So yeah... the story...

"Five!"

"Four!"

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!"

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

She had kissed him. She had actually, legitimately kissed him.

Little Mac stood there, shocked beyond belief. He had been trying for a year to get Peach to kiss him, and finally, after persistence and dedication, she did it. She kissed him right on the lips. At first he had regretted taking Lucina and Peach to Marth's New Year's Eve party, but now... Little Mac's smile was like the half-moon hanging overhead.

Peach leaned back, smiling with the white pearly smile that she always had on her face. "Happy New Year, Little Mac." She whispered, a bit of mischief and happiness in her eyes.

"Happy New Years." He breathed back, his leg shaking uncontrollably. Usually when he got nervous, his right leg would shake wildly, and this moment was no exception.

"Happy New Years, guys!" Lucina yelled over the sound of the blaring music and the cheering party-goers. "This is some party, am I right?"

"This is the greatest party I've ever seen!" Peach shouted back. "How can they afford half of this stuff!?"

"My uncle has a lot of rich friends!" Lucina shrugged. "And man, do they have money to burn! Woo!"

"I'm so glad you could get us invitations!" Peach told her friend. "I'm having the time of my life!"

"Me too!" Mac admitted, putting his arm around Peach. Lucina raised her eyebrow, as if curious, but out of politeness she didn't press for answers.

"Mr. Mac." A voice behind him said. Turning around, the New Yorker recognized Marth, Lucina's rich uncle and lifelong rival of Little Mac. Marth met him with a gentle warm smile, which further irritated the former Bronx boxer. "I don't believe we've had a chance to talk yet." He extended his hand in a friendly gesture.

"I know." Little Mac gritted his teeth, not meeting his eyes. Marth, with a slightly flummoxed expression, put his hand down and slipped it inside his pocket.

"You two know each other?" Lucina said, surprised. "I thought you said you didn't know him!"

"You never asked." Little Mac said darkly.

"Oh yes, Mr. Mac and I go way back." Marth laughed, patting him on his back. "We went to Gressenheller together, in fact!"

"You went to Gressenheller?!" Peach said in surprise, looking at Little Mac. The short man shrugged casually, as if it didn't matter.

"I did before he came." He mumbled softly.

"It's great seeing you here, Mr. Mac!" Marth continued, undeterred. "I'm glad you accepted my invitation." Turning back to Lucina and Peach, he smiled. "I'm glad you took my niece as well. How's life in Smash City?"

"Great!" Lucina smiled. "Peach has been showing me all the cool places and sights to see! I'm working as a barista; you should stop by sometime!"

"I will, I will." Marth chuckled, scratching the underside of his chin. "And how are you doing, Peach?"

"I'm just fine!" She smiled. "How's business doing?"

"Ah!" Marth's eyes lit up at the mention of his chain. The entrepreneur owned the largest chain of restaurants in Shore City. Little Mac had always been jealous about Marth's success. The Altean Prince (the name of his restaurant) had this killer burger sause that Mac had always tried to replicate, but with little success. For the most part, Marth's business had been blowing the competition out of the water; he was even expanding his enterprise to Smash City, Little Mac's home. "We've been doing great. How's The Mac Shack doing?"

Little Mac smiled at the mention of his own small chain. "We've been doing fantastic." He smiled, butting into the conversation. "Sales are through the roof. We've never had it so easy. Peach convinced me to buy out the old drug store on Smash Street and renovate it; we should be up and running next week."

"Really?" Marth took a step back. "You're the ones who bought it out?"

"Yep!" Peach grinned. "Isn't that great?! Luigi sold it to us a such a cheap price too! It's right around the center of town anyways, so business will be booming!"

"You bought it out..." Marth mumbled, lost in thought. Shaking his head, he said, "I'm sorry, I spaced out there! Heheh..."

"No worries, Uncle!" Lucina reassured him. "This is a fantastic party anyways!"

"I'm glad you're all enjoying yourselves." Marth nodded. "I'm glad you could—"

"Marth!" A voice behind him said. A man in a black suit came walking up to the CEO. "It's that call you've been waiting for."

"Ah yes; I'll be there shortly." Turning back to his guests, he shrugged impishly. "I'm sorry, duty calls. I hope to see you around here again sometime!"

"I hope you invite us again!" Peach shook his hand. "This has been absolutely wonderful!"

"Thanks so much uncle!" said Lucina, quickly hugging him. He returned the gesture with his own warm embrace. When they let go, the entrepreneur turned to Little Mac.

"Mr. Mac?" He held out his hand. "I understand if you don't accept my sincere apology for college, but I wish that you do."

"And I never will." Little Mac glowered. "Happy New Year's, Marth."

"... Happy New Year's, Mr. Mac." Crestfallen, Marth left the room with the man in black.

"What was that Mac?!" Lucina gesticulated once she was sure her uncle was out of earshot.

"Sorry, sorry!" Little Mac grumbled, scratching he back of his head.

"He did apologize." Peach pointed out. "Whatever it is, you should at least give him—"

"Let's not talk about it, okay?" Little Mac snapped, surprising both of his friends at his sudden sharp tongue. "Come on, let's get outta here. The drive's three hours away and I want a head start."

Peach and Lucina exchanged confused glances, dubious of their friend's sudden mood swing. If the music around them hadn't been playing so loudly, one of them might have heard him mumble, "It's not like you would believe me anyway..."

Little Mac stepped into his petite battered car, beaten and exhausted. Rubbing his hair in frustration, he yawned, staring into the night sky. Dark clouds began blanketing the stars, washing the bright lights away in a tide of darkness. It was relaxing, Mac reflected, especially after dealing with Marth again.

"Thanks so much for taking us to Marth's little get-together." Lucina said, getting in the back seat of Mac's car. From the front of the vehicle, Little Mac could smell the rich perfumes that her uncle gave her, permeating the car like a bouquet of exotic flowers.

"Little get-together?" Peach snorted, sitting in the front seat next to Little Mac. "That was the biggest party I've ever been invited to!"

"Yeah, he's the greatest." Little Mac impatiently tapped his fingers on his steering wheel. "Can we just buckle up and go now?"

"Who the heck wears seat belts?" Peach rolled her eyes. "Get going already."

With a sigh of relief, Little Mac turned the ignition key, only to be met with the sound of sporadic sputtering. "Ah come on! I just had it checked last week!"

Someone knocked on the window of his car, surprising the short business owner. "Perhaps you need your car jumpstarted?" A familiar but muffled voice suggested.

"Marth!" Lucina opened the car door and hugged her uncle. "I thought you had to attend to business!"

"No business is my business if it prevents me from seeing my favorite niece!" Marth smiled, hugging her back. "I never got a chance to tell you goodbye— a real goodbye!"

Begrudgingly, Little Mac rolled down his window. "Hello sir." He smiled through clenched teeth. "It's great to see you. Again."

"Nice to see you too, Mr. Mac." Marth said flatly. Turning to Lucina, he asked, "Are you leaving so soon?"

"Yes sir!" Lucina replied, still in her uncle's arms. "We're headed on our way back before the storm hits."

A couple of hours ago, the televisions had begun to flash with warnings of a blizzard hitting Shore City and Smash City. It had already begun to spread across the North American continent, and it was growing bigger by the second. The meteorologists were all saying that this storm was the biggest storm in over three years, and it was only supposed to go downhill from here. Even Little Mac, who was not a worry rat by nature, began to become anxious of what was to come.

Marth's hasty words pulled Mac back from his thoughts. "Are you taking the main road?" The millionaire asked, scratching his chin.

"Yes sir." Peach answered. "It's about three hours away to Smash City, so we're hoping to beat it by then."

"You know, I actually have a back route you can take." Marth said. "It'll cut the travel time in half and save you the traffic. Not a lot of people take it, and I would prefer to keep it that way, if you know what I'm saying."

"Yes sir; we'll keep it a secret." Mac sarcastically saluted. "Now will you get your car already?"

"... I'll run around and get it." With that, Marth left.

"Mac!" Lucina whined, staring at her friend with genuine confusion. "Again?!"

Mac was about to backtalk her, but Peach interjected, "She has a point, Little Mac. He is only trying to help."

He couldn't bring himself to argue with her. Defeated, he slouched back in his chair and grumbled,"I can help myself; I'm no vegetable."

"Oh, here he comes!" Lucina said, standing on her toes to look. Mac snorted as Marth came rolling around the corner with a red hot Yoshi Corvette. Stopping in front of Mac's car, he stepped out with a pair of jumper cables.

"Here you are, Mr. Mac." Marth said before opening the hood of his vehicle. Little Mac stepped out of his car with a look of annoyance.

"About time." Little Mac mumbled. "I was worried you might've driven off."

The two moved in silence, working as if the other didn't exist. The tension was thick like the forest surrounding them, and only after Marth bumped into Little Mac did they speak.

"Little Mac," Marth said quietly, "it is my understanding that the drive from here to Smash City is long and monotonous. Why don't you and your friends stayed night here and allow yourselves some rest. I rather you not risk your lives..."

"It's fine." Little Mac quickly interjected. "No problem here. I'll have them home before the first snowflake."

"I must insist."

"I'll be fine." Little Mac insisted, growing increasingly disgruntled. "Now are we going to do this or what?" Before he could retreat back to his car, Marth grabbed his arm and drew him close.

"I have no idea why you are so persistent to get away from me," He whispered agitatedly, "and I have no idea why you won't forgive me, but that is not my concern. When you do leave, you must promise me this: do not stop along the roadway there. You stop for nothing and for nobody. Keep your head down, eyes on the road, and avoid the houses. Promise me this."

"Fine, whatever."

"Promise me! Say it!"

"Geez, I promise!" Little Mac jerked away from his firm grip. "Now can we go now?"

"Why certainly." Marth remained stoic and returned to his task, acting like nothing had even happened.

It was an hour down Marth's path when the storm hit. The snow was completely blocking the road now, the car crawling along at barely twenty-five mph. The windshield wipers useless; every time they wiped away the accumulated snow a sheet of new powder would take its place, even thicker than the last. The car's tracks were covered up faster than they were made, and at this point even Little Mac doubted that they were going to make it back home.

"Mac..." Lucina leaned forward from the back seat to whisper into her drivers' ear. "Look, Peach is asleep, so I'll make it quick. We need to pull over and seek shelter."

"Malarkey." Little Mac protested. "We're only a couple of miles away from home. It'll be quick."

"Mac, Marth just texted me. We're expected to get another foot of snow in less than fifteen minutes. I don't care where we stop, we just need to get out of the storm before we freeze to death."

Mac didn't say a word, his fists clenched firmly on the steering wheel and his eyes looking ahead at the road. He had always hated Marth. The millionaire had always irritated him for some reason. It was something about his personality... Mac couldn't lay a finger on it. Maybe it was his smile. The former boxer always felt as if it was put on Teflon: at any second it could just slip away. Marth's comments felt genuine but snobbish, as if the world was but peasants to him. Worst of all, everybody liked him. Everybody talked about him and how great he was. No one dare questioned Marth, and the worst part was that Marth was usually right anyways. The mighty Marth, richest man in the area and blah blah blah! Before him it was Mac who had all the answers, but that faded away once he got here.

Now Mac was the one with the Teflon smile.

After a few minutes of deliberation, Little Mac finally said, "Fine. There was a side road not far back from here. But not a word to Marth about this, you hear me?" Mumbling, he added, "Teach him about telling me what to do."

Lucina smirked, her eyes twinkling with victory and exhaustion. "I promise, not a word." Pausing, she added, "Why do you hate Marth so much? What happened in Gressenheller?"

Little Mac didn't turn around. "You won't believe me; no one does."

"Try me."

"It was simple: I had something he wanted: to be at the top of the class. He stole it from me by claiming that I had plagiarized him the whole time, without any regard on how it would affect me. And like everybody now, they believed him and threw me out." Mac sighed. "That's always been the case and that's how it will always be..."

"I don't believe that." said a defiant Lucina. "You're right. I believe my uncle has it in his heart to help."

"I told you." Little Mac replied. "No one ever does." He chuckled softly. "At least you believe in him. Not a lot of people are optimists these days."

"I believe in everybody." Lucina responded. "Even you, you old curmudgeon."

"Yeah, whatever." Little Mac waved her off. "And for the love of humanity, stop spraying so much perfume on yourself; you're stinking up the car!"

"No promises!" She smiled.

.o0O0o.

The side road was barely visible in the headlights of the car, and the only reason Little Mac had managed to see it through all of the snow was because of the little tin mailbox in front of the gap. Turning around had been tough through all the snow, but somehow Little Mac managed to start down the side path. The road was surrounded by huge trees, its branches towering over the automobile and grasping at nothing. The road underneath was either rocky or old, for the car occasionally bumped up in the air. Little Mac's eyes drooped from his own exhaustion, and he would occasionally close his eyes and wish he was home. Maybe he shouldn't have left for that stupid party. It's not like he even wanted to go in the first place.

Turn... Back...

"Hmm?" Little Mac jolted awake. "Did you say anything?"

He turned around, but Lucina was asleep, just like Peach. Shaking his head, he turned back towards the road. "I must have been imagining things..." He growled. "I'm sleep deprived... That's it. I've been staying up too late anyways. I really need to get some sleep." He turned to look at Peach. Her head rested on the side door as she slept, occasionally shifting uncomfortably. She looked so peaceful, her diaphragm moving up and down in a slow rhythmic pattern that soothed the New Yorker. Little Mac smiled, looking at her with all the love he had to offer. Maybe one day, he would muster the courage to ask her out. Maybe tomorrow. After that kiss they shared tonight...

"We're not that far now." He whispered to her. "The house is up ahead. We'll make it." Although she couldn't hear him, saying those words aloud comforted him. Smiling, he turned back towards the road.

Then he saw him.

A boy— a young boy at that— was standing in the middle of the road. His red and yellow shirt was stained in crimson blood, four holes in his chest. One of his arms was cut off, blood dripping from the wound. His skin was pale gray like cement and his hair was completely snow white. His mouth was open in a silent scream, and his eyes... His eyes were completely terrifyingly white; there was no sign of his pupils. Little Mac could only stare helplessly as the boy came running at the car at full speed.

GO AWAY!

Little Mac screamed in terror. Out of instinct, he jeered the car hard right in an attempt to avoid the child. Realizing what he had done, he slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. The car came sliding off the road and straight into a tree. The last thing he remembered was the dashboard flying forward in his face.

Then everything went black.