World 3-3: Degradation

Mario could barely process what was happening to him as he walked down the hallway in cuffs, the police guiding him to whatever fate lied in store for him. Toad followed them as far as he could, which was only to the apartment elevator. Before the doors shut, Mario caught a glimpse of Toad's expression, a strange mix of betrayal, confusion, pain and sadness. It was as though he wanted to tell Mario everything was going to be okay, but unsure how to do so without potentially smearing the memory of Luigi. There was a distance now between the two that took the span of their entire friendship and compressed it into a single idea – a barrier that could not be penetrated by either of them. The small gap for the doors in the elevator may as well have been a chasm.

A look was all they could share. They didn't have words anymore.

The elevator descended slowly as the beat cops tried to remain serious and stoic, but there was something very off about the whole thing. Mario wasn't sure what it was, and being half asleep and awoken from the worst night of his life didn't help. He looked in the mirror in the corner of the elevator. Standing behind him, each one holding one of his arms, stood the two officers wearing their bright blue uniforms and badges.

He'd seen these men before. But where?

The elevator continued to descend. God how deep was this thing going? Sweat began to flow freely as Mario suddenly felt the whole situation crashing down upon him. Now that Toad was away and the judging stare of his friend no longer pierced his heart his brain was free to act. There was something very, very wrong here.

Think, god damn it, think. What's wrong with this? Mario thought to himself as the number 7 flashed on the floor monitor. They were almost at the ground floor. Mario touched his thumb to the handcuffs. They were real alright, not the cheap storebought kind for kids playing cop or adults living out lurid BDSM fantasies.

Floor 6.

The doors opened up briefly and an elderly man was about to get on when he was startled by the sight before him.

"Sorry old man," said the cop on Mario's left. "You'll have to take the next one. Police business."

"Oh, sorry officers!" The old man stammered out as he backed away.

Mario consulted the mirror again. Badges, blue uniforms, guns, tazers. The whole getup was very convincing. No detail left unaccounted for. These were real cops. But why did they look so familiar? What was happening here?

Floor 5.

Mario racked his brain trying to figure out the missing detail but distractions came at the worst possible time. Did he really kill Luigi? What if there was nothing? What if this was his sick mind trying to find an out – an escape? To deny his responsibility and to protect himself, would his mind fabricate something like this?

"What time is it, officer?" Mario asked.

The cop on his right checked his watch briefly. It was a bright red digital display but in the mirror Mario couldn't make out the digits.

"About 3 AM," the officer said. "You'll have to wait until morning to call a lawyer."

Floor 4.

Somehow the entire span of that conversation had lasted only a single floor. How slow was this elevator going? Why?

Mario looked down to the ground and saw his own mud-caked boots and pants. The officers clothes were... dry. It was pouring down rain outside. They weren't wearing raincoats. How could that be? There was no indoor parking here. Why were the clothes dry?

Floor 3.

There was something wrong with the shoes too. Those weren't the neat patent leather dress shoes of the polished local police. They were work boots. Jet black to be sure and they wouldn't look out of place to the casual observer, but Mario had enough run-ins with police to recognize the shine of that absurd and impractical status symbol.

It suddenly hit Mario that there was one place where you could go from the outside to the inside of this building without stepping out in the rain. The alley out back. Was their car parked out there? Was this a mob car? Were these guys going to whack him as soon as he went out back with them.

Calm down Mario, don't be stupid. They probably pulled up to the curb and got in the door before the rain got to them, Mario's logical side tried to talk him out of this self-destructive mode of thought. But he wasn't sure if he could reach himself.

He was already on a dive off the top of this building and into the depths of true insanity. Why should this elevator ride be anything else but an extension of that? Why couldn't he just make whatever reality he wanted? If these men weren't out to get him in some way then they were still cops who wanted to put him away for a long time because he might have killed his brother?

Floor 2.

Who the hell cares about his brother? Why did he ever worry about Luigi in the first place? If Luigi hadn't been fucking with him he'd never wind up in this situation? In fact... Mario thought for a moment that maybe, just maybe, he was even kind of... glad that Luigi was dead.

The kid had been holding him back. He'd shoved his fancy life in his face. He'd flaunted Daisy in front of him while Mario struggled for everything he ever got. The best night of lovemaking Mario had ever seen was a one night stand with a woman who was almost certainly a hooker. He was too drunk to remember but he woke up $500 poorer and alone.

Story of his life. Always taking the fall. He wasn't going down like this. Not again. There was nothing wrong with any of this. This was the way things were supposed to be. Mario knew that now. This was just the way life was.

And he wasn't going to stand for it anymore.

Floor 1.

The elevator doors opened and standing before him was a small group of people coming off work from their closing shifts. Mario took his chance, he pushed back against the wall, smashing both of the cops' arms against the safety railing. He was even able to grab hold of the right cop's tazer. He didn't fire yet though. First he made a mad dash forward, with the crowd quickly dispersing to get out of the way of the madman.

Of course the cops followed quickly after. Mario took just a few second outside the building to slip his hands under his legs and point the tazer. The first cop out the door was hit and hit hard, the shock from the tazer knocking him flat on his ass. The second cop was having none of this and drew his gun and started taking shots, two bullets whirring past Mario's body, the third clipping him on his shoulder. Mario decided not to take his chances and ran towards the alley. Somehow he was right – the cop car was waiting here instead of the front door.

And the keys were still in it.

This was a sign for sure. Mario opened the door and slid behind the wheel. He popped the car into reverse and smashed the pedal to the ground. The car rocketed back and in a heartbeat he heard the sound of the other cop hitting the back bumper. A quick glance in his rearview saw the cop roll off the right side of the vehicle. When Mario was back on the main street he threw the car into drive and peeled out. He had no idea where to go at this point. All he knew was he was not going to jail. He was not going back home. He couldn't go to his work. The only place left for him was anywhere and nowhere.

And that's when he crashed.