Lemmy's eyes flitted open. It took a second for his mind to register everything that had happened and was happening now. At first, it felt as if he'd just awoken from a sick nightmare and could simply write it off as such, but, as he became more aware of his surroundings and the situation he was currently wrapped up in, the true horror of what had just occurred stabbed back into him. He struggled to try to stand, but his wrists were tied behind his back and his legs were tied together with tightly-knotted rope.
"Don't bother," Roy's voice snapped from the shadows, "You're not going anywhere."
Lemmy quickly realized that he and Roy were together in a boxcar. It was dark and the only way he could see at all was because of a single lantern sat in the middle of the floor. The corners of the car where Roy happened to be were still engulfed in shadow, though. He wasn't quite sure where the train they were on was headed, but something told him that, no matter where the destination happened to be, there was nothing good in store for him there.
"Wh-what do you want with me?!" Lemmy cried shakily.
"Relax," Roy replied, "I'm not going to hurt you...yet."
A chill ran down Lemmy's spine. He began hyperventilating. He tried staring outside the open door of the boxcar in some sort of effort to calm down. It was nighttime, so visibility was poor, but, since his eyes were quickly adjusting, he could barely make out trees and other forms of plant life whizzing by through the darkness. His mind couldn't help but wander back to Roy, though.
"R-Roy?"
"What?"
"D-did you...kill him?"
"Of course."
Lemmy choked on a gasp. Out of reflex, he tried to bite his lip, but he winced upon finding it terribly sore from the last time he did such. His mind was racing with thoughts of how he could possibly make it through another fifteen days on top of the sentence he was already serving to bring back Larry, but he quickly realized that he had no idea what Roy's intentions for him were and, at this point, he had no idea if he'd even live to see the next sunrise, much less live through the rest of the game.
"Wh-where are we going?" Lemmy asked, having finally worked up the courage to do so.
"Somewhere no one can find us," Roy replied, "We're going to stay hidden for the next however long it takes for you to get through this stupid game. After that, you're going to wish us all back home."
"Th-then what?"
"Well, I can't have anyone finding out what really happened to Larry, so I'll have to make sure I'm the only witness left so they have no choice but to believe me. That means I'll have to stage a fitting suicide for you. You just couldn't take what happened to Larry, so you decided to end your own life to make up for it. That sounds about right, hm?"
Lemmy froze, every muscle in his body tensing up in shock and fear. From the way Roy was speaking, it sounded as if he was enjoying setting up all of this, even if only somewhat. It was jarring to see him acting this way, but Lemmy knew he was wholeheartedly serious, which only made it even more terrifying.
"I-it doesn't have to be this way!" Lemmy retorted, "W-we could just explain things to everyone and everything would be fine! No one else has to die! Please!"
"It's too late for that now," Roy muttered, "I've already gone past the point of no return."
"You don't understand!" Lemmy shouted, "I'm trying to get Larry back! I just have to survive twelve more days and I can bring him back! Th-then, I can bring Ludwig back! I-it's just twenty-seven days! Everything can go back to normal!"
"There is no 'going back to normal'," Roy snapped, "What's done is done. There's nothing that's going to erase what's been done. All we can do is move on."
"No!" Lemmy cried, "That's not true! I have to bring them back! I just have to! I-!"
That was when Roy finally emerged from the shadows and Lemmy stopped short at the sight of how his brother looked now. His expression was cold and emotionless, but the most noticable part of his appearance came from his eyes, as he was now no longer wearing his sunglasses. His heavy crimson eyes now bore a thick ring of blood-red around the irises.
"H-how is that possible?!" Lemmy exclaimed, "I-I thought only Iggy and I had those!"
"I've had them the entire time," Roy explained, "It seems to be situational when they show up, but I find they often show up when I feel like wringing some poor sucker's neck or something like that. That's part of the reason why I wear my sunglasses all the time."
Lemmy grit his teeth, consciously trying to keep from biting his lip again. The conversation seemed to cut itself short right there, but Roy didn't seem to have anything more to say and Lemmy didn't feel the need to press the topic any further. Instead, Lemmy closed his eyes and began to think.
As much as he tried to sell twenty-seven days as a short period of time, the reality of it was that, with his sentence totalling up to thirty days, he was taking on the feat of trying to survive this game for an entire month. That month would seem like forever without someone to trust and relate to, the mere thought of such eating away at the little Koopaling and justifiably causing him to believe he'd go completely insane from the isolation alone. That was setting aside the pressure from knowing everyone in the world was out for his blood, which he knew would only cause him to crack even faster. What state would he be in once he finally made it through? Would he be able to recover, or was Roy right in saying there was no going back to normal?
Lemmy's breathing quickened to the point of near-hyperventilation. He could feel his worries weighing down on him, feeling so heavy he felt they'd suffocate him. Everything he'd just thought could only happen under the hypothetical possibility that he could escape from Roy, which was extremely unlikely. Roy was much bigger and stronger than Lemmy and he was the only one of the Koopalings that kept his own fitness regimen, including combat training. If he was dead-set on keeping Lemmy hostage, he'd fight to his last breath to make sure things stayed that way and, if Ludwig's murder was anything to go by, Roy was serious about killing Lemmy once they got home. If it came down to it, would Lemmy let it happen or would he keep extending his sentence to keep Roy here for as long as possible? How long would Roy take it before he killed Lemmy off and tried to survive the game himself?
Lemmy began to feel lightheaded and he laid back down on the floor to try to mitigate his wooziness. He then tried to steady his breathing back out, clearing his mind as much as he could and staring thoughtlessly at the ceiling. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, as the terrible thoughts would come flooding back the moment he stopped focusing on keeping them away, but he could at least do this, which told him that, at least for now, he still had some connection to reality. He had to wonder how he'd fare, though, once the paranoia completely took him over.
Lemmy woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and a stiff kind of soreness from sleeping on top of his arms. It was only through mentally singing songs to himself that he was finally able to fall asleep and, surprisingly enough, he made it through the night without any nightmares. He felt much calmer now, but he knew that things were still far from okay.
He was still in the boxcar with Roy. He couldn't tell if Roy was asleep or not, though, as he was wearing his sunglasses now. Roy's chest heaved slowly, suggesting he might be asleep, but his face was still turned toward Lemmy. If he was awake, he was doing a good job of hiding it. Lemmy wasn't about to take a gamble on Roy being asleep. Even if he did, though, there was also the matter of the train still moving and the fact that he was still tied up. If he tried to escape now, there was a good chance he could end up dead, which was all the more justification for his decision not to try.
Lemmy sighed, turning over onto his side. He was still trying to keep his mind clear to keep from the kind of paranoid fit he had the night before, but he found it much easier now. He pushed himself back up and leaned against the wall, deciding to entertain himself with thinking about a television show he'd watched once and trying to remember the individual plot of each episode. He and Iggy had watched a lot of anime together, so he knew this was an endeavor that would keep him busy for a good chunk of however long he stayed in captivity. At the very least, it would help him keep his mind off the hopelessness of his situation, which was enough for him.
"What are you doing?" Roy asked tersely, startling the little Koopaling out of his daze.
"Nothing!" Lemmy replied nervously, "A-absolutely nothing! I didn't do anything, I swear! I-"
"Shut up," Roy snapped, "I'm going to get some food. I trust you won't try to escape...unless you want to commit suicide for me."
Lemmy shuddered, shaking his head fearfully. Roy shrugged nonchalantly before getting up and climbing onto the outside of the boxcar to make his way to one of the passenger cars. Lemmy knew, though, that Roy didn't really want Lemmy to die now. He needed Lemmy alive to get home. That was the only thing keeping Lemmy alive at this point and he knew it.
Just then, the boxcar jerked forward, throwing Lemmy back down to the floor. The train must have hit a rather large bump. In a flash of realization, Lemmy struggled to make his way toward the door to the boxcar, staring outside in anticipation. Sure enough, the bump had thrown Roy off the train and he tumbled away into the distance as the train continued on. A smile spread across Lemmy's face as he trembled in ecstasy. It felt wrong to be happy over Roy's possible demise, but, for the first time in days, Lemmy felt safe. He didn't have to worry about what Roy may or may not do to him now. He was free.
He then remembered that he wasn't out of the woods yet. He was still tied up, which meant that he was still stuck on this boxcar. He wasn't sure he could make it on his own in this condition. Until he could figure out how to get out of his bonds, he was a sitting duck and it was only a matter of time before someone found him in this vulnerable state. Still, it was better than a certain death and the thought of such was enough to comfort Lemmy for now.
Lemmy leaned back against the wall next to the door, deciding to focus his efforts on working his bonds loose. He struggled against the ropes that held his arms behind his back, but they were tied too tightly for him to find any room to work himself free. Once Lemmy's wrists began burning in pain, he stopped, taking some time to think. He didn't know how long it would be before the train reached its next stop and he had no idea what he'd do after that. Would there be guards inspecting the train cars before the train's next departure? If that turned out to be true, Lemmy was as good as dead. If not, he could stay hidden in the boxcar for as long as he needed to. If someone else decided to get on, though, he was also as good as dead. All he could do was hope to get lucky.
He sighed, deciding to keep his mind off the myriad possibilities and, instead, went back to his previous diversion. Now, if only he could remember what happened in episode seven...
