A King's War: Part 2
Vul entered the castle with Trident and Sailor Dee close behind. Poppy at the front was muttering to himself as he moved along. "Why in the heck did I get myself into this," he repeated as he felt along the walls. The party continued upwards a spiral staircase, noticing the lack of windows. The higher they went the darker and colder it got. Adding to their discomfort was the obscurity. After one grueling hour, they reached the top. A metal door signaled the end of the pathway. It stood between them and the king.
"Here goes nothing!" Poppy grunted, pushing the door open. There, sitting on the throne was the Penguin. He made no slight movement as they approached him. "Pardon us, your Majesty, but we came here on peaceful terms if you will allow us to speak," Vul began.
The king said nothing. "It appears that Sire may be sleeping," Trident said.
Vul shook his head. "We birds don't hibernate in such sunny weather."
Poppy, who wasn't really comfortable around tyrannical figures, nervously squeaked, "Eh? Mr. Penguin, sir? Are you all right, sir?"
Trident bravely laid felt Dedede's wrist. No pulse. "He's dead."
Sailor Dee shrilled, "DEAD!?" His heart beat faster than a bullet train.
"What should we do?"
Vul cleared his throat. "We'll just make a statement to the public and inform them of what happened. He just died of a heart attack. Surely he has a successor 'round here somewhere."
"I wouldn't count on that," Trident interrupted. He stepped aside to reveal a lifeless figure lying on its side. "It appears they have been killed for quite a time."
"L-let's get out of here!" Dee yelled. The party ran back to the door, but- "IT'S LOCKED!" The boys were in a nervous wreck and began shouting indistinguishable things. "HELP! HELP!"
"Quiet down! There has to be a way out," Trident commanded. His eyes turned to Vul. "What are your orders, Captain?"
The albatross quickly scanned the room, searching for exits. "We can blow the place to bits," he suggested. Poppy heard his cue and quavered, "A-at your serviceā¦" He began to pull them out, but Trident prevented him. "If you diffuse them now, you'll discard all evidence."
"The only evidence we have are corpses. What good will that do to stop an angry mob? They'll think we did it." Vul clicked his tongue in frustration.
Clink, clink.
Vul stopped as the rest froze. He pulled out his revolver and loaded it. He motioned for everyone to gather around him.
Clink, clink.
They turned to see a red crystal protruding from behind the throne. "A mirror?"
"Wrong. That's was my toy," a little voice answered. A hole excavated itself to reveal a purple object bounce out. Its huge eyes gazed at them, and its huge brown shoes tapped cheerfully with each step it took. "My name's Marx," it spoke in a high-pitched voice. A jester hat with red and blue was on his head.
"Want to play with me?" he asked.
Trident leaned to Vul, whispering, "It could be a trap." Vul slapped a wing on the samurai's back. "How could some cute creature be such an apparition?" he cooed, picking him up. The boys said sweet things to it. Trident looked Marx with disgust. The jester stole a glance at him and blew a raspberry.
Trident became infuriated. "Why you little-!" He ran for the jester with outstretched arms. Marx jumped out of Vul's arms, scrambling about the room.
"It seems like they're getting along just fine," Poppy grinned.
Trident finally caught Marx with a triumphant attitude. Marx began to growl, pupils shrinking to dot-size. "Don't touch me," he snarled. His cute canines turned to monstrous fangs. Golden yellow wings grew out of his back with many other crystals exactly like the one Vul shot at. As Marx opened his mouth, his tongue grew larger. With a shriek, he bit Trident's hand as he transformed. The cackling monster sprung to the air and swept the group onto the floor.
"Kill him!" Vul yelled, firing blind shots. Marx dodged them easily with the grace of a swan. He counterattacked, depleting seeds that turned into long, thorny vines. The vines rose high to the ceiling, making evasion difficult. Some of the thorns pierced the boys, making them in panic. Poppy tugged frantically until he gained the sense to take his torn cap off.
Sailor Dee shrieked as another thorn pierced his stomach. The fresh drops of blood scattered from his wound, forming a small puddle. The fleshy scent drew Marx's attention to him. At the same time, Vul heard the yell and began shooting away at the vines.
"Take care of Poppy!" he squawked to Trident, who made his way to the bomber. The old crow soared through the wind as fast as his little feet could carry him. Marx was racing him in the opposite direction, executing fierce barrel rolls. The Waddle Dee was in a matter of life and death. He lost all consciousness and slipped into oblivion.
Marx grinned, clearing the last of the vines; Vul's wings made him glide across the floor, spring to the top of the thorns, and down in a successful swoop. Both competitors were entering from the front and the back room. Marx from the door and Vul from the back. The dive carried him past Marx, and he snatched Dee just in time.
A flurried jester tumbled into a thorn, which snagged his right wing. He howled in pain, jerking himself to the ground. The thorn embedded itself into the wing further, making crystals shatter in both wings. "No! My beautiful wings!" he howled. He jerked the wing free, staring at his crystals in horror. "You freaking dogs! You've ruined my beautiful image! You're going to DIE!" he screamed in a terrible rage. His eyes turned red, as he transformed again.
His hat's fluff balls developed spikes. His golden wings turned to a deep red, growing longer. The shoes' tips curved into an elfish curve. Cackling maniacally, he rose to the middle of the ceiling. "No one rains on my parade!" he roared. He dropped another bomb that turned into a black hole. The hole began to suck everything in the room with a spiral spin. Trident and Vul rejoined, carrying a kid each and headed to the door, pronto. There wasn't much time!
Marx sat back, watching the show. He evilly laughed, from this being the final note of his musical. This should work. With a horizontal sweep of his wings, he ended the vacuum of space. "WHAT!?"
Everything was gone in the room. Even the travelers! The only clue he had was the trail of blood. He muttered a low curse to himself as he flew out of the huge hole that had just been made. As he examined the hole, he determined that it was the bomber's work that gave them grace. Sucking in a huge breath, he moaned, "Magolor's not gonna like this," and flew to another place.
