Disclaimer: I do not own Adventure Time! And to be honest, I have not watched the entire series, so apologies if I get some stuff wrong. Please correct me if I do!

A small, pale boy with a mop of dark hair and matching eyes stood in the middle of pitch black darkness, alone and confused. He frantically looked around for any signs of something, anything, besides the eerie blackness that encaged him.

But there was nothing.

"Hello?" The boy called out. His soft voice, high-pitched due to his young age, echoed across the seemingly endless landscape. Fear coursed through him as he hesitantly walked around, hoping to find an exit of some sort.

He tried again. "Hello?"

"Marshall."

A kind, familiar voice brought his attention behind him. A tall, thin woman with short, choppy locks of dark hair akin to his stood with an angelic smile that ironically hid her rows of sharp fangs. She wore a simple white dress that somehow made her even more beautiful and stunning. The woman reminded him of warm hugs and the sweet smell of strawberries and vanilla. Relief replaced the frightened expression on his face at the sight of her.

"Mom!" He dashed towards his mother and held out his arms to embrace her like he always did, but he only grasped thin air and stumbled where she had just been standing. His mother vanished, as if she'd never been there in the first place.

He regained his footing and looked around, but his mother was nowhere to be seen. "Mom?! Where are you?!"

He could feel tears beginning to form in his eyes as the grieving sense of loss and longing filled his chest. His mother was gone. His mother was no longer there.

"She's dead, Marshall."

Another familiar voice caused the boy to freeze. But this time, it wasn't a comforting voice: it was a voice that horrified him and reminded him of dark, awful times. His black eyes grew as wide as saucers as he slowly turned around.

A pair of glowing gold eyes with red slits as pupils surrounded by a pale-bluish face caused panic to rise within the boy. The eyes were full of malice and greed, lacking any of the gentleness that his mother's' eyes had.

The boy began to tremble. Fearfully, he took a step back. The pale figure continued to glare at him as he grew taller and taller, towering over the cowering boy.

"She died, Marshall."

The boy cried out as the man reached out a gigantic hand and slammed his massive palm on top of him. The youth found himself falling, as if he'd been thrown into a dark, bottomless pit.

"You don't need anyone, Marshall."

"No!" The boy muttered and shook his head fiercely. He placed his hands over his pointed ears, wanting nothing more than to block that wretched voice out from his world. But it still rang loud and clear in his head. "No! No!"

"You're a monster. You don't need anyone."

The boy gasped in horror and brought his hands up to his face. His thin fingers elongated, forming sharp claws. He could feel his body morphing, his feet growing into large gnarly lumps, fur sprouting from his skin. Two thin wings sprouted from his back and flapped wildly behind him as he screamed. His cries came out in high-pitched, nonhuman screeches.

"Demon. Vampire. Murderer."

"No!" The boy sobbed. Crimson red began dripping down the dark scenery as if someone had poured buckets of red paint onto it. A strong hunger throbbed in the boy's gut at the sight of the color, and his mouth began to water.

"Stop it!" Tears streamed from his now red eyes. He couldn't fight the hunger; it was a monster of its own, gnawing him from the inside out, consuming him. A sweet, savory taste tingled on his taste buds, the taste that the red would provide him if he just took one, little bite...

"Don't fight it, Marshall. It's who you are."

The boy helplessly cried and flailed around. But no matter how hard he flapped his wings, he wouldn't stop falling. No matter how hard he tried to block out the voice, he couldn't.

He couldn't do anything.

"Eat, Marshall! Eat!

"EAT!"

"NO!"

Marshall Lee abruptly woke up with a gasp, falling from his sleeping position midair onto his bed with a soft thud. The pale vampire panted heavily, still disoriented from his nightmare. The voices still rang clearly in his head as if that wretched man were standing right next to him, hollering in his ear. He swore he could still see blotches of red in the corner of his vision, and the intense sense of falling still coursed through his veins.

"Ugh." Marshall groaned and rubbed his eyes. He sat up and took in some deep breaths in an attempt to calm his rapidly pounding heartbeat.

"That stupid dream again." Marshall frowned and ran a hand through his messy bed hair. Being the Vampire King and the son of a demon, he had plenty of horrors in his life to haunt him. He couldn't forget his past no matter how hard he tried. But lately, his nightmares of his darkest fears had grown even more frequent and disturbing. He wondered his dreams were a warning that something was coming, something bad.

"It couldn't be…" Marshall mumbled. He sighed and heaved himself back into the air. With little effort he soared out of the room and down to the bottom floor of his simple house isolated in a dark, empty cave amid the Land of Aaa. He didn't bother changing out of his wrinkled pajamas: a gray T-shirt with a red no-smoking symbol on the front and blue shorts.

He flew into his kitchen and opened the fridge, revealing a wide assortment of red items: red apples, red berries, red cakes, red lipbalm. He grabbed a shiny apple and sank his fangs into its flawless skin. He made a slurping noise as he sucked the red from the fruit, leaving the apple a dull gray.

"Ah." He breathed out in content. He held the gray apple up in front of him, thinking of the red he had just drained from it and the foreboding red in his nightmare.

"Ugh." He frowned and threw the apple away.

Marshall floated into the living room, leaning back so that he was facing the ceiling, his arms folded behind his head in his usual relaxed position. What should he do today? He could go hang out with Fionna, though he recalled that she and Cake had an important mission from Prince Gumball. He could go to Lump Space Prince's party, but that wouldn't be until later that night. Maybe he could go mess with the goody-two-shoes ruler of the Candy Kingdom himself, something that Marshall often enjoyed.

But the lingering thoughts of his nightmares weighed on his spirits. He tried to assure himself that he was worrying about nothing, but he couldn't help but feel uneasy. What if that man was going to show up? What then? While over the centuries Marshall had grown stronger, he knew he was still no match for him. It was highly unlikely that he ever would be.

The nerving anxiousness made Marshall restless, and it irritated him greatly. He scowled. That man always had to ruin his life, even when he wasn't here in person.

Marshall spotted his axe electric guitar sitting the corner of the room and decided to do what he always did when he had something on his mind: play a song.

The familiar feel of the guitar resting perfectly in the nook of his arms somewhat relaxed him. Lyrics formed in his head, reflecting his inner thoughts and emotions. He strummed a few chords on his guitar as the notes to a song naturally came to him. He inhaled once before letting his words flow along with the sounds of his guitar.

"Oh, I'm small, I'm oh so small

While he stands there, oh so tall

Always haunting my nightmares

Always giving me a scare

Reminding me of the bad,

That always makes me so sad,

That runs through my veins,

That drives me insane

Why am I so helpless,

Why am I so useless,

He's always saying what I can't

Reminding me of what I am

Oh, please, why do you have to stay?

Please just go away.

I don't want you here.

Please just go away.

Marshall let the last of the song draw out into a long note. His voice slowly faded away along with the sound of his guitar. He felt satisfied like he always did when he poured his heart and soul into a song. This one was especially emotional, since it focused on some of the darkest and most traumatic parts of his long, messed-up life.

The face of the man behind the song's inspiration still mocked him, but he felt slightly better after singing. He found himself hovering over a desk, one of the few pieces of furniture in his house. Marshall wasn't keen on interior decor. He saw no reason to spruce up the place when he was the only one living there.

He opened the drawer of the desk, revealing some papers and guitar strings with a photo on top of it all. Marshall felt a small smile creep onto his lips. He picked up the photo, wrinkled and bent due to age, and stroked the surface of it affectionately with his hand. In the photo, his mother's bright expression was captured eternally, smiling right at him. She had her arms wrapped around the younger, grinning Marshall Lee, resting her cheek affectionately on top of his head. Marshall couldn't recall the last time he'd smiled like that. Those were easier times, a time where he was more innocent and had less worries than he did in the present. Now, his smiles were mischievous and sinister, devoid of any genuine joy or kindness.

He traced the outline of his mother's face with his finger, remembering how wonderful it felt to be hugged by her at the time.

Feeling refreshed and nostalgic, he placed the photo on the desk and continued strumming on his guitar.

He was probably worried about nothing, he assured himself as he played. Nothing bad was going to happen. That man was down in the dark depths of the Nightosphere, having left him alone for many years. He had no reason to show up, since he didn't truly care for Marshall at all.

Nothing was going to happen.

Unfortunately for Marshall Lee, he was very, very wrong.