I feel... Rather awkward writing this. I mean, I know why my Rocky viewers are here. They saw Rocky Horror, and hell, maybe you guys know what Labyrinth is.
But people coming solely from Labyrinth... I'm not sure that I want a reaction. I've read several fan-fictions for Labyrinth, and I'd say nine out of ten brought me to tears at least once. I have some emotional moments... But his is coming from someone who can't "express emotion correctly." I didn't even know you could do it incorrectly.
Ah, well, in other words, this is a Rocky Horror and Labyrinth crossover fan-fiction. Feel free to bomb quietly and politely if you dislike it. Which you may. I can't write Jareth to his... Justice.
Tap. Ta-tap. Tap. Ta-tap. Tap. Ta-tap.
Columbia Ansalong looked at her friend, tapping the pads of her fingers on the arm of the couch. "You don't like it, do you?" Magenta Vitus glanced at her cherry-headed friend.
"It's... It's fine, Columbia." Magenta sighed to the small television monitor, that Columbia was playing her university's play on.
"They worked really hard on that Maggie!" Magenta growled under her breath, out of Columbia's hearing range. She liked to be addressed by Magenta only, the only one she would ever put up with calling her Maggie was... Her brother. Riff-Raff.
There was... A minor explosion in the laboratory. Magenta had demanded he save Columbia, when he killed her. She was already too far gone when they took off, back to their home planet, so he treated her the same as Frank-N-Furter made Rocky Horror, who was assembled entirely from dead body parts. Magenta cried as she wrapped her lifeless body in bandages, while Riff-Raff was getting the tank ready. Magenta dragged Columbia's body across the pink marble floor, happy it wasn't leaving a bloody trail. She would of broke down if it did.
She helped Riff-Raff pour the last of the fluids into the tank, and slowly helped him splash her in. She floated softly in the middle. Magenta put on a surgical mask, and traced the small skull and crossbones on the fluid container. Frank never let them know what it was. She closed her eyes, hearing the machine fire up.
Instead, she heard a beeping. It was the autopilot She clicked back to the sonic transducer room, and redid some of the coordinates. She didn't see any plane for miles, and she clicked the big, green, accept button. She turned to walk out, but stopped.
Peering at the screen, Magenta skipped through different security feeds, until she found the lab. She reclined a little in one of the stools, and watched the almost soothing process of bringing something to life. She sighed as she saw the flash of light, closing her eyes. She opened them, and walked to the lab. The sight that she saw still haunts her nightmares, years later.
"Magenta." Columbia poked her friend's knee, and laughed. "Maggie..." She got up, and looked at her. She sighed, sitting back down, and pulling her head onto her shoulder. Magenta did this almost everyday.
She wouldn't blink, she didn't cry, her eyes just lost life. Her breathing slowed, until it became almost invisible. When she would "wake up," she would cry, for hours on end, and then she would eat. Columbia always had to stuff the cabinets, but it seemed she ate more and more. At least she didn't eat any of the healthy food. Then they'd really be in bad shape.
Columbia stroked Magenta's hair, until she shot up. "Co- Columbia?" Columbia nodded. "He's..."
Columbia nodded again, and let her sob on her shoulder. Columbia almost fell asleep several times. Maybe this was was boring as Magenta thinks it is. "Maggie?" Columbia looked at her friend, who was peering up at her with giant, round eyes. "Do you want anything to eat honey?" Magenta thought.
"I'm not that hungry tonight." Columbia raised her eyes, very surprised, as she watched Magenta climb up the stairs to her room. Sometimes she didn't make any sense at all.
Magenta flicked on the light switch, and sighed. She couldn't bear to be in her and Columbia's old room, so she chose a guest room. There were at least ten in the suddenly lonely house, but what did Magenta expect? There were only three people. Columbia, magenta, and Columbia's daughter. Maybe she thought that she would be more entertained by her brother. Fate plays dirty tricks.
The room was wooden everywhere, shelves filled with knick-knacks, and a giant, white, fluffy bed next to the window. She hated it, but Columbia made her get bright colors, and not black, because she didn't want Magenta to be filled with hate. She sighed, and sat down at the vanity. she brushed through her frizzy hair, and ran her finger over the jewelry box that Riff-Raff had given her his last Christmas.
The box was a deep, deep cherry, and the velvet inside was blacker than night. But the one thing that Magenta thought was absolutely mesmerizing wasn't the box itself.
No, it was the beautiful doll on top. Her skin was pale, her eyes shining green like emeralds, and on top of her beautiful magenta hair, sat a tiny, beautifully crafted, tiara. Not like the one the Old Queen wore, no, this one was... Like the earthlings.
Down from the doll's head was the most remarkable part. She wore a beautiful white dress, with little strands of silver in it, reminding Magenta of the snow that fell that winter. She traced the trail of diamonds around her waist, matching the tiara, and smiled. She ran her fingers down to the little crank, and twisted it.
The soft music filled the air, as Magenta turned out the light. She walked to her balcony doors, and opened one, stepping out. The music stopped, and she leaned on the balcony rail, listening to the gentle serenade of the crickets, and a lone owl hooting. She chuckled, looking for it.
She smiled as she spot it. "You wouldn't happen to be the Goblin King, like that play we watched?" She giggled, knowing she sounded like an idiot. "Oh, Goblin King, you're going to have to give me proof."
"Is this proof enough?" Magenta shot up straight, and did a double take, looking around for the source of the voice, but finding no one, except the owl.
"And now I'm hearing things." She slumped her head down on the rail. "I shouldn't be alive." She looked back up at the owl. "And you have to listen. You don't have anywhere else to go. I don't have anywhere else to go. We're stuck with eachother, no matter what." She sat down on one of the hard, marble chairs. "My brother killed my best friend. I demanded he bring her back to life, so he did. I went out of the room, just briefly, and when I came back, my friend was crying in the tank we used, still wrapped in bandages, while my brother was splattered on the walls." The owl fluttered his wings, and flew closer to Magenta. "Interesting to you?" Magenta could've sworn he nodded, but she brushed it off."Well, I'm living with her now, in this big, lonely house. I have nobody. God, I wish the Goblin King would take me away."
"Be careful what you wish for Magenta. You might get it." Magenta flung her head up, but saw nobody again. "Are you sure about that?"
"I refuse to pay you any attention. You're a simple voice in my head. I'm going mad. That owl is the most I've opened up since he died." She felt the wind blow through her hair. "God..." She walked into her bedroom, and froze. This... Wasn't a bedroom. She turned back around, and Denton was nowhere to be found. It was... What was it?
"Do you like my city?" Magenta jumped as she not only heard the voice, but felt it's breath on the back of her neck. She shot around, and there, was the Goblin King. "It's nice, but we could do something about it's inhabitants " He laughed, walking beside Magenta. "And over there. The Bog of Eternal Stench. All of the dead goblins could be cleaned out, but, I guess that's what makes it smell."
"Who..." He turned to Magenta. "Who are you?" He smiled at her, sweetly. She... didn't know what to feel. On one hand, her heart melted at his face, but on the other, he reminded her too much of Frank.
"Formally?" He laughed at his untold joke. "The Goblin King. In formally," he turned to Magenta, "Jareth." Magenta nodded. "And might I be graced with your name?"
"Magenta... Magenta Vitus." He nodded, and kissed her hand. It sent shivers down her spine, and an overall warmness surrounding her. That hadn't happened in a long time.
"What a pleasure. And a beautiful name." Magenta nodded, still looking at him. "Anything wrong, darling?"
She wanted to slap him. She didn't. She wouldn't want to be put in prison for slapping the king. "Why am I here?" He laughed, as if it was funny.
"Oh." He glanced at her face. "You're serious." He placed his black gloved hand on the pristine, white railing. Magenta was salivating more than usual, she just didn't know why. "You wished to be here, didn't you? You wished I would take you away, and here I am. You're not mad. That's me. It's always... Been me." Magenta glanced at him.
"I'm dreaming..." She put her head down in her hands. He grabbed her arm, and turned her around. She looked up at him, and almost as if she was under a spell, she stroked the side of his face.
"You're sure you're dreaming now, aren't you?" He laughed, while Magenta has found her way to his shirt. She played with one of the ruffles. "You're not. This is reality. You make a tiny scratch, and you're here. But don't do it. You don't play with time." He laughed more noticeably at this. "Really love, there are more interesting things than my shirt to do."
Magenta looked into his eyes. She smiled. They looked like one of the dog's eyes back home. A huskey. "Where am I going to be staying?" Jareth tilted his head, not sure what she was smiling at, and beckoned her to follow him.
"I have a lot of work to be done tonight. You can sleep in here." Magenta nodded, and walked over to the bed. It was giant, twice the size of Magenta's back in Denton. It's canopy was beautiful and lacey, it reminded her of the doll's dress back home. "Make yourself at home." He gestured to the bed, and Magenta nodded. He left the room, and she sat down on the bed. She removed her heels and stockings, pulled her skirt off, and unbuttoned her shirt, folding everything into a neat pile, on the foot of the bed. She pulled the things out of her bra- Some money, a receipt from the bank, and some baby wipes. She pulled out one, careful to seal the plastic bag again, and wiped the makeup off her face. She laid down in the bed, and the sheets were as smooth as running water. She felt like she could've melted, but instead, she drifted to sleep, the first dreamless sleep since Riff Raff died.