Marshall

Today would have been my daughters' 14th birthday. In my mind, I threw them a really big party, and a concert just for them where all the bands they love were playing. Then, as a special surprise, I'd play a song for them at the end, as part of a birthday present. I could see their faces; Lilly, her blue eyes—like her mothers'—taking in every little thing she came across, with all that messy hair piled into a bun or something, and her careful, calculated demeanor. Then Ember would be there, getting into everything, her bright red eyes ablaze with excitement and fun, her hair flowing wildly around her. I could hear Cake's voice, scolding Ember for not taking better care of her looks.

Of course Felix would be there, probably with Sofia, even though Marcy told me not to let her sneak over anymore. He would be quietly enjoying the party, casually shrugging off Sophia's efforts to dance with her. And Fionna and Gumball… I would watch them from back stage, dancing together, flying around the dance floor like they were in their own little world. Fionna's face would be alit with joy, her expression filled with love and laughter. And Gummy, he would love every moment of the celebrations. I could see him taking turns dancing with his daughters, our daughters, and reveling in what beautiful young ladies they've become.

In my head, Gumball and Fionna look just as old as they were on the day of our one year anniversary. His face would be smooth and bright pink, such a tasty color. And Fionna's eyes would look so innocent and free, like she's never had to face any sort of real danger or sorrow in the world. And the girls, well… they always looked exactly alike. My skin and hair, but Fionna's shaped eyes and beautiful, soft lips. And Felix would look like Prince Charming, bearing Gumball's eyes and Fionna's bright smile.

In this fantasy, I'd have to fight off punks left and right to keep them away from my girls. When I told Fionna they weren't dating until they were 20, I meant it. But… well, Gabe is a good kid. I guess if Ember really wanted to date him, I could consider it…

My fictional world was interrupted by a sharp pain in my chest. I reared my giant head downwards and gazed sadly at the amulet that felt like it had melted into my skin. With one tentacle I reached to touch it, to move it, just to make sure the damn thing hadn't sunken in. I guess there was a reason Mom never told me what it really was. If she had, I would have found a way to escape it a long time ago.

As if the curse wasn't enough, the amulet forced me into this hideous, disgusting beast of a form. Not even I could stomach to look at myself. Mother said it was the form of my evil self, but fully realized. I knew I was evil down inside, but… I thought it was gone after I mixed my life with theirs…

"L—Lord Marshall…" a small, scrawny demon quivered, shaking in front of me like I would eat him alive or something.

I sighed deeply and tilted my head against the side of the throne, becoming aware once again that I left all that was good and pure behind. For this. "What is it, tiny one?" my voice boomed in a loud growl.

"I—I have a… request." His squirming was making me sick to look at. He was a demon! No demon should cower.

"Speak," I growled plainly, becoming frustratingly uninterested in his plea.

"I—I wish for the p-p-power to f-f-fly," he stuttered, closing his eyes tightly and tensing himself into a ball, awaiting some terrible fate.

Again I sighed deeply and waved a tentacle, granting him his wish. I gave him huge, scaly, fleshy wings to fly around the Nightosphere with. He squealed and screamed in joy, jumping into the air and trying to use them. He was able to glide through the air, all the way over to the wall by the lava… where… he… fell in. What a moron. I gave him wings, not muscle.

"Marshall, I'd like to speak with you. Put a hold on the line in the request chamber and meet me in my office." The cold, heart-clutching voice of my mother weaseled itself into my brain, irritating me and making me clench the arm rests of the throne.

I stood up, lumbering over the massive crowd that flooded the room, and summoned a swarm of shadows to push them all out and close the doors. With screams and protests, they all finally disappeared. I condensed the "evil form" back into the amulet and floated upwards into Mom's office. "Office" being the desk she sat at with an old-world computer on it and a chair on the other side for guests to sit at.

"Sit down, Marshall. We need to talk," she said, her eyes never moving from the glowing screen. I floated over to the chair and slumped down into it, propping up my feet on her desk and blowing the hair out of my face. She eyed me wearily from behind her desk, saying, "Must you act so much like a childish brat, Marshall? You're almost 1,050 years old."

"I'm the king of the fucking Underworld, Mom. I'll sit how I please," I retorted, swirling my hair between my fingers just to agitate her.

She sighed and swiveled herself from the computer screen, laying her arms flat on the desk and searching me with her stone-hard eyes. "Marshall, you're being far too lenient with these demon underlings. They need to be tormented, set ablaze, tortured, killed. Anything to keep the rest of them in check. If you keep granting their wishes, they'll begin to think they're worth something, and will soon try to overthrow you."

"Good, let them," I mumbled under my breath, crossing my arms.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, Mom." I sat up and laid my hands on my knees, trying to look like I was being serious. "Look, Mom, if they want to overthrow me, let them. I don't care! I have nothing to live for down here, anyway. A rebellion would be a welcomed break."

She stood up, her back straight, her hands clasped behind her, her chin high and her bun super tight. She turned on her heel and walked around the desk, stopping just next to me and pretending to rest against it like she was being casual. "Now, Marshall… sweetie…" The pet name felt forced, unwanted.

"Oh, what's this? Is Hannah Abadeer trying to act like a mother? How sweet! Wait, wait, wait, hold that pose. Let me get a camera for the occasion," I said sarcastically, falling back into my chair and crossing my arms again. "Don't make me laugh. You never wanted a son. You never wanted to be a parent, like I did."

A quick, burning slap seared across my face. For a split second I thought about Fionna in the early days, when I would get too touchy and she'd hit me. But this… this wasn't the same. It didn't even deserve attention. I kept my gaze towards the wall, away from her, where he slap led me.

"Of course I never wanted a child! Needy, dirty, vile creatures! I bore you for this purpose, and this purpose only. You were a failure when you came out more human than demon." I heard her begin to pace in front of me, not even caring if I was paying attention. In truth, I was listening very carefully. This was the explanation I'd been waiting for for centuries. "But your father… what a despicable excuse for a man. If he had been a stronger specimen, I may have considered making him a low-level demon. Instead, he sought love and a family, as if that was something a demon—an Abadeer—would do! I should have left you with that Sam woman long ago, even after your father allowed himself to be bitten by that vampire." She scoffed, stopping in her tracks to sneer at her own thoughts. "He wanted me to love you. He wanted me to take you in and raise you. So the fool gave you his disease… the disease that made you immortal."

Hannah stepped into my line of vision, her stance strong with an edge of angry control. With her red demon eyes boring into me, I met her gaze, waiting for her to finish. "With a soul as immortal as my own, I had no choice. I needed an heir to take on that cursed amulet. So I took you. What a stupid, stupid mistake."

I looked away from her, hiding my face in my shaggy hair so she couldn't see my disgust and disdain. "So tell me, Mom, if you hated me so much, why didn't you give me the amulet when I wanted it? Why did you want to pry me from my family and everyone I loved before you gave me this curse?"

She scoffed again, turning her head so I couldn't see her face full on even if I wanted to. "You were stupid, and naïve. You would have led the Underworld to ruin, and then there would be no power left for our kind."

Abruptly I shot out of my seat, getting in her face and making her look me in the eye. "But that's not true, is it, Mother? You cared for me! You loved me, your only son! You stand here acting so cold and bitter, but I know… I know that even to a demon like you, you found a place in your heart for me. That's why you used my children to lure me in. That's why the last time you pulled this, you used Fionna against me. You know what love is, because if you didn't, you wouldn't know how to use it like that."

She stood absolutely still, the expression of anger and disapproval seared onto her face. I walked past her, bumping my shoulder into hers as I passed. "You say that my father was the weak one, but look at you now. You hide behind your pride and your status so you don't have to face what you really are."

"You know nothing of pride, boy."

I stopped and let out a short, curt chuckle, shaking and bowing my head with a sarcastic smile on my face. "You're right. Pride is feeling honor and accepting who you are. You have none of that at all."

Without giving her a chance to strike back, I slipped through the floor of her office, letting the shadows encapsulate her as I left. I had no more patience for someone so uncaring, unforgiving.

For a thousand years we went back and forth, playing house and Mommy-Loves-Marshy. For a thousand years I blindly let it go, thinking that she was just busy when the Mushroom Wars hit, that she didn't know where I was. But, I guess, deep inside I knew. I knew she despised me. I knew she wanted nothing to do with me. But I knew, too, that some part of her was still a mother, and some part of her loved me to a point.

Still, I was a means to an end. A burden to bear until she could pawn off this curse to me. I thought about my kids as I headed to my sleeping chambers, how much I loved them, how far I would go—have gone—to save them. They were my world, and I could never imagine them as just some pawns in a sick, 13 thousand year old game. It made my stomach knot just to think that anyone could think that way of their children.

I told myself I wouldn't, but now, I felt I had to. I had to get rid of her. I had to get rid of Hannah Abadeer, my mother, to end her existence. For vengeance? Maybe. For Justice? Possibly. Because she was a terrible, terrible person who threatened the happiness of my children? Definitely.

She was a threat, and, as the King of the Nightosphere, I would eliminate her. By any means necessary.

That was my vow.