Pichu had to be reassured by Pikachu and a few others at least 50 times tonight that he wasn't going to be killed off like Falco. Now he was shuddering in the corner of his room, which was tremendously big for the tiny mouse Pokemon. It was just as large as other rooms used for sleeping and staying in, but for someone Pichu's size, he could practically LIVE in there. Pichu could never get bored exploring the depths of his room. Sometimes, he even hid pieces of food here and there for himself to snack on when he was hungry and didn't feel like leaving his space. The bed, which was supplied even before Pichu had eventually come to live in here, was also much too big for him. Nonetheless, he slept in it, but made a soft nest of pillows and blankets in the center. It was all good for him.

Pichu was very afraid of the dark. Usually he slept with a nightlight, but recently, tonight of all nights, it had gone out. Since there were no new light bulbs in convenience around the mansion at the moment, Peach, who had put him to bed this night, had told him that he would be just fine for only one night. And since Pichu had absolutely no windows in his room at all and no other lamps, it was pitch black. This left the tiny mouse scared in a corner of his room, closest to the door.

"I w-wish Pikachu was here," he squeaked, curled up in a ball of electric yellow fur. The emptiness scared him, his voice echoing in reply to him. Especially tonight, since Pichu was certain that there was a murderer lurking around in the shadows, just ready to lunge out for him. Closing his eyes didn't even help right now. "I've got to turn on the lights," he said to himself, trying to break out the eerie silence that haunted him. "I don't wanna be turned into a fur coat…" Speaking to himself seemed to calm him down, make him feel more courageous.

It guided him to finally arouse from his ball of fear and stretch his muscles, since he hadn't moved them in a while. It seemed as if everywhere in this pitch dark room a monster or zombie was waiting around every corner for him to steal his life. The tiny rodent felt glaciers of chills run up and down his spine at the thought. He tried his best to reassure himself that he was probably imagining things. 'What in the world would want to kill me? Have I done anything so wrong that somebody would just want to dispose of me? Of course not! I'm just fine, there's nothing to worry about.' Those were his thoughts as he went scrambled to go turn on the lights. But it was then at that moment that a bonechilling thought escaped into his mind. The switch was too high for him to reach.

Pichu suddenly stopped in his tracks. A funny smell just reached out and grabbed his nose so abruptly, and played with the receptors that hid deep inside it. Pichu inhaled the rotten smell more deeply, taking in whiffs of it at a time. It appeared to be a mixture of mothballs, dried blood, moldy potatoes, and a dead corpse that's been rotting over for 15 years. Pichu gulped and lay low quivering on the floor. He didn't dare breathe or even move. You couldn't tell, but Pichu's eyes were now bulging with pure terror. The baby mouse was near tears now as he clung to the thick, violet red carpeting of his floor, ducking down real low.

"Oh Piiiiichu," a quiet, deadly voice spoke, bursting through all silence inhabiting the room at the moment. Pichu's ears pricked at the sound of his name being called. "Where are you?" it continued. Pichu had no idea who or what this was, because he had never heard this stranger's voice before in his entire life, except maybe in a horror movie. 'Someone is out to get me,' he thought nervously. The little Pokemon began to cry silently, clutching on harder to the thick carpeting. The soft, light footsteps could be heard rummaging through his living space, searching for the smallest smasher. At the same time, Pichu's pulse began to quicken as well.

They got closer. Thump. Thump. Thump. Pichu couldn't help but utter out a whimper, signaling to the intruder that Pichu was located near his own two feet. In one fell swoop he grabbed the trembling baby mouse, who squealed in fright, struggling to get free of the grasp he was held in. A laugh was heard.

"So I found you at last. Heh, I have to admit you're better at hiding than Falco ever was. You got spunk. Too bad it was wasted on someone who won't be with us for very long…."

Pichu gasped hard and defended himself with a jolt of electricity. Another chilly laugh rose out of the bad man's mouth.

"You insolent fool, I'm practically invincible! Nothing can hurt me." Bony, clammy fingers took a firm hold of Pichu's head and grasped it tightly. With a single twist, he snapped Pichu's neck backwards, a satisfying crack filling the air. In a split second, Pichu was no more. The killer dropped the body like a sack of potatoes, laughing coldly. He was sure that no one heard anything that happened in the room that night, and he left as silently as possible, unseen.

And he was right. It wasn't until next morning that Pichu was discovered.

Zelda screamed, placing both hands over her mouth in shock, eyes widened like the glass eyes of a very freaky doll. She was NOT used to seeing dead rats on the floor, and this was no exception. The reason she had even tried entering this room in the first place was due to the fact that Jigglypuff had sent her up here. Jigglypuff was supposed to be watching Pichu closely today and at the moment the pink balloon Pokemon was too busy at the moment helping Donkey Kong with one of his own problems. (Let's just say the toilet water rushing down the drain had interested him, and you can guess what happened then…) So who else to ask but Zelda, the one nearest to her who wasn't occupied with something herself? And so now, here Zelda finds little Pichu, deader than Kurt Cobain, his head wrenched backwards completely so that it looked as if he could walk backwards, with his face turned towards the appropriate direction he was headed.

But he could not. He was apparently gone now, and Zelda was speechless. She had seen Falco the other day, in an even worse condition than he was, but it was still a terrible sight to behold. She took a few steps backward, paralyzed with fear, knowing that there is, of course, a murderer lurking around. She then took off quickly down the hall, almost reaching the stairs to find someone to tell, anywhere, anyone.

She never reached them in time, or did she? That was probably because Marth was making his way up the stairs, and since it wasn't easy to look while running, she collided with the blue haired prince, making them both fall backwards, or, in Zelda's case, forwards. They screamed and shouted in surprise as they tumbled down the stairs together, not able to think straight. At last, after the incident, Zelda found herself positioned on top of Marth, staring directly into his cobalt blue eyes, which were full of shock. Immediately, she gasped and pulled away. "I am so sorry, Marth!" she apologized in a rush. "I just wasn't watching where I was going!"

Marth, who was just about as equally surprised as she was, stared back at the princess of Hyrule, who was leaning back on her hands, her eyes on him as well. Giving her a little smile after wiping the mortification off, he replied, "That's fine." He began to rise to his feet again, and offered a hand to help Zelda up. She blinked up at him, and shyly took it, being pulled up to her feet again.

Brushing her pretty Hylian dress off, she said, "Thank you."

"It's no problem," Marth replied, still smiling. "I should be the one apologizing… by the way, I couldn't help noticing how much of a rush you were in. Is there something wrong?" His eyes changed into windows of concern.

Zelda froze. She remembered what dreadful spectacle she had just witnessed back in Pichu's room, and that had caused her to dart away from the scene, running into Marth along the way, and making them roll down the stairs together. It was embarrassing to the princess in a way, but she could imagine Marth feeling the same way. After all, he did look kind of like a princess himself, being so effeminate and everything… "Well… You see, it's just that..." She tried to find the best words to tell him. Marth looked at her with interest, listening fully to what she had to say to him. Zelda continued. "You wouldn't believe what I saw. Falco isn't the only one being murdered around here."

Marth's smile disappeared instantly, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Who? You've got to tell me."

"Of course." She sighed. "Upstairs, in Pichu's room, he was… dead. There was no blood or anything, but… ah, you'll see yourself." She grabbed hold of the Altean prince's hand and hurried up the stairs towards the hall in which a second murder had taken place. It wasn't long before they reached the doorway of Pichu's area, and Marth truly saw for himself. There lay the lifeless body of little Pichu, his neck snapped all the way. Now his head was forced facing upward, while he lay on his stomach.

"Wow," Marth whispered, still in disbelief. "I guess there is really a murderer, and he hasn't been through yet." He looked up at Zelda, who wasn't looking back. Sometimes this princess made him a little jittery, and he wasn't sure why. She was a good looking girl, who moved with grace even while fighting, no, especially while fighting. The princess of Hyrule. He could see why Link liked her so much. He kept his puzzling feelings to himself; nobody knew about these ones. Zelda finally eyed him once again, and said affirmitively, "I hate death. I really do."

Marth nodded as if he understood. Death wasn't really taken much notice by him. He had a feeling it might slip into his life again somehow, now that these things occurred, especially in a tournament where one was expected to brutalize their opponent. "So, I think we should report this to Master Hand as well. That has to be the first important step." He folded his arms after he said that, and took a pace backwards to even out his balance a little. Zelda nodded.

"I think we should show him the evidence as well," Zelda suggested. "That way, it would save him the trouble of having to come up here and check it out himself. But really, I don't think I'd like to be the one carrying him…." Zelda's face transformed into a disgusted expression. Marth raised his hand slightly and offered to do it for her. She agreed gratefully, and after trudging into the room, Marth brought the deformed body of the young Pokemon. Pichu, being the lightest smasher of all, was no burden whatsoever to them, and they managed to get downstairs to Master Hand's door, thankfully without anyone viewing the dead body.

Zelda approached the glossy wooden door of Master Hand's, and rapped on it three times. No answer. She attempted again, only harder and more times than before, until the two heard a reply. "What is it? You better not be younger than fourteen," he groaned irately.

Marth, who was wondering what the heck Master Hand was talking about, replied, "No, it's just Marth and Zelda. We have something to show you that's important."

"What about?" the hand huffed.

The prince cleared his throat. "Another murder occurred, unfortunately, last night."

In the blink of an eye the door hurtled open. The giant severed body part appeared in front of them both, and even though he had no face to show expressions with, you could tell he was astonished and fascinated, plainly by his eccentric movements and the tone of his celestial voice. "What!? Who was it this time?"

"Maybe this will answer your question," Marth said, presenting the limp body of Pichu. "His neck was snapped all the way."

"Then I come later to see him in front of the doorway, dead," Zelda added, enthusiasm in her voice. "It was horrid. Then, I happened to run into Marth here, and I told him what I found. That's when he recommended we show you what happened. Someone killed him, Master Hand. He didn't die on his own."

Master Hand seemed to be taking this in as she told him. "I can tell. Well, I'm going to have to think about this for a while. I'm not going to announce it to everyone like last time, because I'm sure gossip will take it's toll. I'm now very concerned about everyone's safety here. I'm afraid I may just be forced to cancel the tournament. Who knows what could happen?" The hand paused before also noting, "I mean, Pichu is one thing, and despite his small size and pipsqueak weight, he has the capability to defend himself. Falco definitely; I had high hopes for him. Yeah, I'm definitely going to put this tournament on hold."

"You're right," Marth agreed. "I'd rather live another day than win a tournament any time. Come on, Zelda. We need to tell more people about this incident. I'm concerned about everyone's safety." Staring at the dead body of Pichu, he held it up. "What do I do with this?" he asked.

"Here, just take it to my room and place it somewhere. It's starting to stink. I'll find something to do with him." Marth obeyed. "You guys have done well. Thanks." Zelda grinned, telling him it was nothing.

When Marth appeared, he smiled bashfully at Zelda's face, and took her hand, leading her away from the door of Master Hand's. It was soon shut abruptly.

Zelda was lightly blushing. Could it be possible that Marth actually liked her more than a friend? Or was he just showing courtesy? She looked at the firm face of the prince; his eyes seemed to glisten with dots of stars when the time was right. The somber expression he usually wore when he meant business in battle always hid away his true feelings. His soft pink lips were drawn in a perfect line across his mouth. Zelda felt that she was getting attracted to Marth. Sure, she also had a slight crush on Link, the hero who saved her from the clutches of Ganon, but they never shared a relationship like that, just close friendship. Marth was her friend too, just not as close, as well as Roy. Peach and Samus were her new friends too, except at times Peach could be too annoying and Samus too bossy. Zelda still was much too shy at the moment to speak.

Little did she know, but it was pretty much true. Marth had developed a little crush on Zelda as well. He was beginning to like her more and more, her beautiful dazzling eyes made of blue crystal, her golden hair, especially when it was glowing in the light, and her lovely smile. But he doubted she would ever accept him, and he was also beginning to deny his feelings having thought similar ideas before about other people, so he kept his mouth shut.

Afterwards, pretty much everyone knew about Pichu's sudden death, and many panicked more than ever now. There wasn't just one death, but TWO.

"Two deaths!?" Young Link exclaimed to Link. The two of them were downstairs in a room that was mainly just for entertainment purposes and such. Link was originally flipping channels on the TV, finding nothing amusing at all, but really, it was to keep the belief of deaths to come out of his mind. Roy was with him, apparently just as bored. Link had just finished telling his younger form what happened last night, since Young Link continued to bug him about "Having a secret you weren't telling me." At the moment the younger Link's eyes were wide with amazement.

"Yes, mini-me. Now will you stop bothering us?" Link pleaded, although he knew he most likely had to do more than just simply asking the little Hylian nicely to leave them alone. Young Link frowned, placing his hands on his hips, a usual pose for him.

"Why? Can't I be around you guys? I'm just as bored as both of you, and… we can all be bored together!" His eyes looked hopeful, leaning close into Roy's face, who pressed him away instantly. There was something noticeable about Young Link's hair.

"No," Roy stated clearly. "Sorry, but you're really getting on my nerves."

Young Link pouted a little, then retorted, "Why?"

Link sighed and shook his head. He knew his younger form always wanted to hang around him, seeing as he looked up to him like a younger sibling. It was obvious why he wanted to stay, but at the moment Link didn't want him to bug them, as he was sometimes a little pest, trying to get attention. But at times he could be more collected with himself. He was still young.

"We just don't want you to be around, okay?" Link said. "Not right now. What if they need your help with the murder cases or something? Maybe you can help them with that." Link knew this was a lie, and it was just to get Young Link occupied with something else. It was worth a shot.

"Great idea!" Young Link shouted, clapping his hands together once. His face had determination written all over it, but his hair… it looked more appropriate to be worn on Paris Hilton's chihuaha. "I'm going to find out who is behind all this, and I will have the help of some assistances! Wanna come?"

"No thanks. We're not the detective type," Roy said, playing along yet trying to keep himself from spilling a laugh.

The small elf made his way to the door. "I'm gonna figure this out. So ha!" Link and Roy simply raised an eyebrow at little Link and Roy chuckled. "Good luck, squirt. You'll need it."

"Stop calling me squirt, tomato hair!" Young Link demanded, pointing a finger and scowling heavily. He exited the room, not hesitating to slam the door as a fake effect of sheer rage. Right after the tomato hair comment, Link and Roy were laughing wildly like donkeys high on drugs.

"And he calls me tomato hair!" Roy howled through fits of laughter.

Link was lying on the couch, uncontrollable to his own body. He was gasping for air and laughing really hard, trying to tone down his smile. "He c-calls you tomato hair. What about double bubble?" That set them off again.

"I can't believe he didn't realize what I did to his hair yet!" Roy choked. He pulled out a pink hairspray bottle. In red letters it read: "WARNING: Hard to get out." The two of them continued to laugh until they were nearly the color in which Young Link would have rights to call them rutabaga faces. In the middle of the night, Roy had snuck into Young Link's room last night and died his hair pink. Surprisingly, the little Hylian slept like a baby and never woke up. It was Roy's "revenge." He had also gotten his sword back successfuly as well.

Everyone also seemed to be avoiding each other. Who knows? Your best friend could possibly be the murderer. Fox was highly beginning to suspect Yoshi for the death of his friend. One time, they happened to be in the commons at the same moment. Fox glared at the green dinosaur, the look of sheer cold in his eyes. Yoshi began to notice Fox's awkwardness, and felt edgy because of the way the pilot would stare at him. Finally, Fox spoke to him.

"You did it. I know you did." His voice was in a low, hushed whisper, more of a growl than anything. Yoshi snapped to attention, and merely stared at Fox in confusion, disliking the way he was talking to him and coming gradually closer, never keeping his eyes off him like a lion stalking its prey.

"Did what?" Yoshi had an idea of what he meant, but he tried to display innocence.

"Kill Falco." His gray-blue eyes narrowed now, and his pace quickened.

"No I didn't!" Yoshi countered. "Why would I want to kill Falco?"

"I don't know. Why did you? I wouldn't expect someone as puny and happy as you to pull something like that, but anything's possible." He had taken Samus' statement and applied them to this encounter, pinning the green dinosaur down with his eyes.

Yoshi was beginning to get aggravated by Fox's attitude. How would he ever convince him that it was not him who killed Falco, or even Pichu. Placing his dinosaur hands on his hips, he replied, "I didn't kill him. That's final."

Fox could not hold it in much longer. He let all his intense, smushed feelings explode in Yoshi's face. "Then why was it YOU who had to come up to Master Hand and inform him? You were trying to cover up, weren't you? You are a filthy, fucking suck-up who has no integrity at all! A dirty murderer! That's what you are! You try and hide behind that innocent interior, but I know well that anybody could be hiding dark secrets behind a fake mask. I'm pretty damn sure!" Fox's face grew hot with fury as he spat insults and accusations at Yoshi, finger pointed at him like a gun.

Yoshi was startled really badly at his sudden behavior. Maybe Fox was more depressed than he thought. He was fairly certain that there had to be another factor aside from depression that would cause these outbursts. Nonetheless, Yoshi was a little hurt that Fox suspected him, who truly wouldn't have the heart to do something that cruel. "Fox, wait, I-"

"So I take it you're going to confess now, aren't you?"

"No, that's not it. I really didn't do anything."

"I can't believe you," Fox growled. He was dangerously close now, looking as if he were to beat Yoshi into a pulp when given a fleeting opportunity. Yoshi gulped, and prepared to fight back in self defense, or at least shrink away in fear. Luckily for him, though, Samus appeared to be walking by at the moment. She glanced a the commotion Fox was making near one of the tables to the left side of the commons. She noted that Fox was pissed as hell and that Yoshi was fearful and confused. Fox looked like he was going to launch an attack onto the gecko-like victim. Samus acted quickly by using her grappling beam to pull Fox towards her.

"What's the matter with you?" Samus questioned, appalled. "I wouldn't expect you to go ballistic on the poor guy; surely you need more evidence than that to prove him guilty!" Fox, who was shocked senseless by what had just happened to him, simply stared at Samus, who was in her chozo suit at the moment.

"I'm very certain," Fox began, "that murderer over there killed Falco and Pichu," Fox accused, pointing to a blameless looking Yoshi. Samus considered this quietly for a moment. Then she inquired, "What makes you think that Yoshi was the murderer?"

"Well, it's pretty obvious. HE was the one who told Master Hand about Falco's death, which shows he was probably trying to cover for himself to make it look like he didn't do it. He shouldn't be up in the middle of the night, anyway. WHY he would want to do something like that is beyond me; this is Yoshi we're talking about." Fox finished and closed his eyes.

Samus sighed. Fox had gone too far. Now he was accusing people for killing Falco. Then again, it was understandable that Fox was acting like this, because already he has lost several loved ones in his lifetime, including his father. "There's no proof to say Yoshi committed the crime, but it's still a possibility." Samus glanced at Yoshi, who was also looking straight back at the two of them, rooting silently for Samus to do justice. "I see how you feel, Fox, but there's no need for this." Tears trickled down Fox's furry face, and he tried to look away. "You're right," he said, defeated. "I'm just… foolishly overreacting. But I still think that Yoshi did it. I'm keeping my eyes on him." Fox turned his head from the two of them, and sped off, not wanting to be looked at or talked to. This was the time Samus took to really see Yoshi. He was puzzled deeply, staring at the bounty hunter still, relieved that Fox was out of his face. Samus talked to him. "So, did he manage to hurt you physically?" she asked.

"No, but he was about to," Yoshi replied in his unusual high-pitched voice. "I see why he accused me, because who knows? It's possible I would be covering up for myself. Not that I am or anything."

Samus deeply considered this too. It was even more possible that Yoshi was the murderer, although Yoshi didn't seem like the type that would do something so malicious. Still, Fox's hypothesis was accurate, and now Samus was even starting to believe it. With one last glance at Yoshi, she waved, then went back to whatever she was doing.

Yoshi sighed softly. Maybe he shouldn't have told Master Hand. Look at the position he was placed into now. Yoshi didn't want to be a suspect at all. It would make life less friendlier, less peaceful for him. It would also be lonely. He prayed deep down inside that maybe, just maybe, Fox wouldn't tell anyone else his suspicion.

But what were the chances of that, anyway?