Robin and the Horrorland Nightmare
Author's Note: Sorry for the delay guys. A shout-out thanks goes to bladewielder05, zcluelessz97, pokemonrhoades, MahNati, Flame Falcon, Kinkajou321, snowxfairy, JintoSpice, Light My Crazy Diamond, and xXRussianBearXx. Oh, and Light My Crazy Diamond, thanks for pointing out that typo in chapter 1. Not sure if I had a chance to get back to you but here it is just in case. Thanks a million to all my readers out there and enjoy!
Chapter 2: Let the Games Begin
There were footsteps, shouting, all coupled with a bloodcurdling scream that forcefully pulled Robin out of whatever psychotic dream he was having. The sudden throbbing from a welt on his head was making it difficult to focus, but through his foggy vision he could make out some flashing lights, although whatever Halloween music that was previously playing had ceased long ago.
Silently, he pushed himself to his feet, stumbling for a moment before regaining his balance. He recognized this place as the infamous Horrorland, home to one of many demented freaks and cheap carnival games. Miraculously, activity in the park appeared to have drastically diminished, with zero evidence of there being any guests save for a few scraps of litter. For some reason, the park seemed to be much darker than before, the circus lights that had been strung up now all completely shot out. If it were not for the crimson spotlights coming from the tall vulture statue, Robin could have easily mistaken this place for something more akin to Brinstar's Depths, or even Hell for that matter.
And he was all alone.
"Lucina!" called Robin. He dared not enter the fog, for at least here in the clearing he had some comforting light. "Pit! Ness, where are you?" He took a few steps, noticing that the ground was awfully soft for cement. With the fog now transitioned from the ground to the air, he realized that whatever pavement was here had been previously replaced with some kind of organic tissue. Somehow, the environment had taken on a completely different form, the artificial scariness of the whole festival now alive with a fresh new coat of paint that embodied the very essence of the amusement park's name.
Please let this all be a dream.
"I was wondering when you were going to wake up!"
Robin nearly jumped out of his skin upon hearing the mechanical voice from afar. He recognized the person calling out to him as none other than Dr. Z, who was perched on one of the park's broken streetlights. What was even more peculiar was the fact that Dr. Z was lying on his side atop the fixture, which was realistically impossible given the fact that the light was far too thin for any normal person to stand on.
"You…" said Robin, immediately recognizing the dark man in the mask. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Oh, didn't you hear?" replied the doctor, stretching his ear out to outlandish sizes before it sprung back to its original state. "You answered wrong on the last question! So now you have to play the game just like everyone else. Just like everyone else!"
Robin was having a hard time understanding whatever point he was trying to make. Nowhere in the rules did it state that if he got the question wrong he would be transported to some twisted reimagining of Horrorland. It's not like the question was even fair to begin with!
"Now hold on a second," said Robin. "I didn't agree to any of this!"
"You did when you accepted my challenge," replied Dr. Z casually, admiring his metallic fingernails. "Sorry boy, but once you have been chosen by Dr. Z, you have to play his game from its beginning to its end." He smirked. "Or from its beginning to your end, if you prefer…"
The sound of painful moaning could be heard coming from below like voices of the undead. Faces of the dearly departed began to rise to the surface, their mouths outstretched, their faces grotesque, their empty eyes holding back the tears of regret created by the dark rulers of Horrorland. With every step back Robin took, he'd only find himself stepping on yet another nameless face, already starting to feel his heartrate jitter as he realized that he was no longer playing a game.
"By the gods…"
"Kind of creepy, eh?" said Dr. Z with excitement. "What you're looking at is the face of every person who happened to stumble upon my contest and lose. These good folks form the backbone of our beloved amusement park. You'd be surprised how many I'm able to snatch every year!"
Everyone knew that Horrorland was like a mist that came and went with the wind. It was unknown however, who owned the park, who worked for it, heck even how the park earned money since entries were always free. It seemed now that guests of Horrorland never had to pay with cash; they only paid with their souls.
The exaggerated friendliness of the whole festival suddenly made sense. The carnival games, the Halloween decorations, the general attractions, it was all a ploy to get people to come to the park. There were rarely any amusement parks open during this time of year, which is precisely why Horrorland thrived as a vacationing spot. How could anyone get away with this though? Surely there must have been reports, stories about missing people who attend one day only to never return to their loved ones come November. By that time, Horrorland becomes nothing but a mirage, an illusion that disappears faster than you could say "Trick or Treat."
"Why are you doing this?" said Robin, tearing his gaze away from the mutated souls beneath him. "Just… Who are you?"
"Do I need to spell it out for you?" asked Dr. Z, who was currently balancing himself atop the streetlight with an outstretched arm. He did a twirl before jumping to his feet, leaning to the side like a professional mime that was having a drink at an invisible bar. "I am Dr. Z, king of Horrorland, and terror of the night! Some call me a legend." He pulled his cloak in front of him, covering the lower half of his face so that only the beak was exposed. "Others call me a myth." He threw out his arms, spreading his wings out like a hawk preparing to dive. "To you, I'm just your host for tonight's main event. So if you have any other questions for me, shout 'em out now or forever hold your piece."
There was no denying at this point that something unmistakably evil was behind the Horrorland façade. Was this even the same park though? Sure there were some similarities, such as the stands, the barrels, and the leaky water fountain by the facility building. Everything else looked as if Robin had stepped into some kind of mirror realm, or an otherworldly dimension that barely had any ties to the precious place he referred to as reality.
Still, the casual way in which Dr. Z was speaking to him was unsettling to say the least. It was almost as if this whole change in setting was also part of the game…
"So I'm not dreaming then," said Robin. "This is the true face of Horrorland."
"Truer words have never been spoken!" replied Dr. Z. "With every year comes a new batch of souls ripe for harvesting. With these new souls, we can generate enough energy to power our rides, our stage lights, even those giant popcorn machines you might have seen back at the entrance. Unfortunately, the essence of life walks on a thin tightrope, and these old folks die off in a few years or so. That's why we do our best to stock up on as many souls as we can, just in case we find ourselves in a rough spot." He produced strawberry milkshake with what appeared to be a cherry on top, taking a monstrous slurp from the crazy straw that was protruding from it. He followed with a maniacal laugh before shouting, "They also make yummy refreshments!"
Robin noticed a ghostly petrified face staring at him through the tall glass.
"Release them at once!" He pulled out his sword, which he thankfully never left home without. In fact, he had all of his Tomes on him, but nothing ever said "shut up and die already" like a lightning blast from the Levin Sword. He wasn't about to stand around and watch innocents suffer, even if they were just bodiless souls. He saw enough of that when he was back home in Ylisstol.
"What are you gonna do, Robin? Kill me?" The deranged doctor leaned back, as if he were sitting upon an invisible chair. "Go ahead. Hit me with your best shot."
Robin made an attempt to charge a Thoron, which was possibly the deadliest move in his magical arsenal. For some reason however, the sword just wouldn't respond. Normally he would be able to channel his spells through the enchanted weapon, but now it was just acting like a plain old hunk of steel. Not only that, but the other Tomes that he kept securely in his robe were also dead.
"What?" he said, staring at the jagged edge of his weapon. "But how?"
"Here's another little tidbit you ought to be aware of." Dr. Z pulled down a blackboard from seemingly out of nowhere, point at the cartoonish drawing of a stick figure with a pointer that he just so happened to have. "As long as you're here in Horrorland, anything that even remotely resembles magic will not work. That department, my friend, is reserved for yours truly." He pushed the blackboard away. "That includes your sword, your Tomes, heck even Smash Balls if you were bright enough to bring one with you today."
"How do you know so much about me?" asked Robin. It wasn't just his name, but the fact that Dr. Z also knew what Tomes and Smash Balls were made the tactician all the more curious. The average person simply wouldn't even be able to comprehend the amount of power behind those items.
"Because I'm the game master," smirked Dr. Z. "And you're playing my game. You play by my rules, and you will do as I say."
"This game has gone on long enough if you ask me." He held his sword up with both hands. "Magic may be nullified, but steel can still cut, and if I have to climb up there with my own two hands just to kill you then so help me I will. I'm getting out of this park one way or another."
"Aha, but that is exactly what I was going to say next!" replied Dr. Z. He began casually walking down the streetlight, his body perpendicular to the sea of faces below. "Your ticket out of this world has already been booked my boy; all you have to do is claim it at the ticket stand." He planted his feet firmly on the ground, standing a mere few meters away from Robin. "As you may have heard before, Horrorland is home to one of many games of skill! All you have to do is accept."
"What's to stop me from accepting then?" said Robin. "What's to stop me from just walking up to you right now and stabbing you in the heart?"
"Three things actually!" Dr. Z held up three skeletal fingers, but he did not remove his empty gaze from the tactician. "One! That I'm simply too fast for you to hit. I mean, come on, you just saw me walk down a streetlight. I could easily manipulate the dimensions around your sword to just step aside without much effort. Two! That I'm certain you would be much more interested in what I have here than what you'd rather do with me…" He revealed the inside of his cloak with his other arm, showcasing three fabric dolls that looked very familiar.
"No…"
Robin nearly dropped his weapon in shock. There beneath the talons of Dr. Z's claw, were dolls made to resemble that of his friends. Lucina, Ness, Pit, aside from the button eyes, the stitched mouths, and the tattered clothing, were no mistake. The dolls were lifelike, handmade, something that one might see hanging on the wall of a witchdoctor's hut. Not to mention they were just plain creepy. From Lucina's leafy butterfly mask to Pit's seagull feather wings, these incarnations of Robin's friends have been mended to the very last detail.
"Your friends are here, Robin," said Dr. Z. "They are here in Horrorland just as you are standing before me. Don't worry; these dolls aren't voodoo dolls or anything. I just thought they would be a great way to get the message across to you." He held them up to eye level, admiring the craftsmanship behind the collection. "I must say though, I think I did a darn good job at making these. I even painted a silver toothpick just for Lucina's sword!"
"Let them go," responded Robin, urging himself to contain the rage that was rising within him. He took a few steps forward, sword at the ready.
"Ah ah ah, what did I just say!" Dr. Z covered the dolls back up, holding out a waving finger. "You can't hurt me, and as long as you're here in Horrorland, you have to play by the rules! And believe me when I say that your friends are safe. They just… won't be for long so I suggest you shut up and stop wasting time. Stop wasting time!"
"Fine, I'll play!" shouted Robin. "Just promise me that you won't hurt them."
"Whether or not I hurt them is entirely up to you." He smirked. "But I can see that you're still kind of confused by all of this, so I'll just go ahead and explain the rules already." He put a monocle to his eye, making himself look like some kind of professor. "As a player in my game, your job will be to overcome a series of trials using your body and mind. As you progress to each trial, I will give you a specific set of guidelines that you can use to overcome the tests, hints if you prefer. What lies for you at the end of this whole thing is a one-way ticket back to the real world, where you can have your normal life back! Sound easy enough?"
So it was like he said earlier, back when the only question Robin had to answer was the best number out of ten. These trials he spoke about must have been the tests that other guests have had to attempt in the past… before they were turned into rotting souls that littered the pavement. If freedom was his ticket however, that still left one question unanswered.
"Where do my friends fit into all of this?"
"Your friends are going to participate in your trials," replied Dr. Z. "If I say anything more than that, I'll just spoil it for you, so I'll let you find out what I mean on your own!" He looked off in some other direction. "I've actually had a lot of complaints from guests about spoilers in the past, so now I try to refrain for saying anything at all if I can help it."
Participate in the trials? The answer was a little vague, but at least he could assume that his friends were still alive. As for how much longer they had, well, Dr. Z wasn't exactly giving him a lot of hope for that.
"So what do you say, Robin?" said Dr. Z. "You up for the challenge?"
"If it means saving my friends and getting out of here…" he paused momentarily. "Then yes. I accept your challenge. You better not try and pull a fast one on me though. My patience wears thin with each passing second."
"Oh no no no! I wouldn't dare do such a thing!" Dr. Z seemed rather taken aback by this thought. "Like I said, all of Horrorland's games are won with skill! So if you consider yourself good enough, then you shouldn't have a hard time at all getting through the trials."
"More like games of chance," retorted Robin. "You asked me to guess a number between 1 and 10."
"Really?" said Dr. Z peculiarly. "I thought that one was a given. Everyone knows nine times out of ten the answer is 7. What kind of square-brained contestant picks an obscure number like 4?"
"That still doesn't change the fact that—"
"Oh! I almost forgot to mention that there's one last thing that prevents you from just breaking the rules and waltzing up to kill me." He laughed. "I didn't think I would have to say anything since you've already accepted the challenge at this point. It's really just a last resort kind of deal."
Robin whirled around upon hearing the sound of a revving chainsaw coming from somewhere in the mist. The buzz was followed by an echoing screech, sending an icicle down his spine as he felt his muscles tense up and the grip on his Levin Sword tighten even more.
"That's odd," said Dr. Z. "He was supposed to wait for me to say three, two, one, go. So much for the big surprise…"
"What the hell is that thing?" said Robin, although he had a feeling that he already knew.
"You know the Chicken Man they have performing in the freak shows tonight? Yeah, I kind of hired him to help give you a little boost in spirit if you were being too indecisive about the whole challenge thing. It's kind of unnecessary now, but there's no point in letting him go to waste."
The chainsaw could be heard cutting through a chain-link fence, the metal blades shrieking while the cries of a sick man in a bird mask shook the air. Through the mist, they could hear bins falling over, wooden game stands shattering to pieces, and the scratching of razor-sharp talons on metallic ground as the madman approached.
"Any more questions?" asked Dr. Z hastily.
"Yeah, how do I get rid of this thing?" replied Robin, his gaze fixed on the shadow in the fog.
"You can't," said the deranged man with a chuckle. "You can try to, but you'll only end up getting yourself killed. He's not part of the trials, he's just… a little motivation to help keep you on your feet."
The Chicken Man leaped out of the void, hunched over with a twisted neck and a beak agape with the remains of flesh and bone dangling from his teeth. By contrast from his creepy appearance in the shows, this rendition looked downright horrifying, his eyes bulging with adrenaline, the talons of his claws clenched tightly around the rusty chainsaw. His normally yellow and white feathers were now drenched with blood, and it stunk like a road-killed deer that had been run over numerous times under the sun. The jaw appeared to be unhinged, the man behind the mask now looking more monster than human, although in all honesty Robin couldn't tell the difference in the first place.
He heard Dr. Z shout the signal for the game to begin, but at that point Robin wasn't even thinking about that. He just felt his heart pumping like mad, his ears almost bleeding as the screeches rung throughout his head. His feet were moving on their own, but no matter how far he ran, he couldn't escape the dreaded sound of the chainsaw's cry.