A soft chime was what startled Roy awake. Rubbing the sandy drowsiness out of his heavy eyes, he sat up in the sleeping bag and took his phone off the bed stand. What time was it? Judging by the color of the light that shimmered into the room and his sixth sense, it could not be later than ten. Who could have sent him a text so early in the morning? It was likely that it was a wrong number.

Roy stood up from his spot and looked at Marth, who was still asleep like a ball of yarn. He made a tiny, weak sigh as he turned onto his left side. His closed eyelids slightly twitched, an indication that he was having an eerie, strange dream. Roy began to wonder what he was dreaming about. Fever dreams were centered on Ike. They could be perfectly normal and clear as glass, or erratic and unpredictable like rolling a dice.

Hoping not to wake him up, Roy's gently placed a cold hand on Marth's red forehead. To his relief, the bluenet only twitched his brows as his brain tried to make sense of the sudden touch, translating it into his dream. Through it was still warm, it was not as sizzling as it was last night. This relieved Roy, as it was a sigh that Marth was slowly recovering.

The phone in Roy's right hand chimed and buzzed again, making its owner turn its attention to it like a begging puppy. Who was sending him those texts?! Roy stood in front of the doorway as he unlocked his phone and skimmed through his messages.

"Hey Roy, you up?" The first message from Link asked. His second message stated, "Ike, Toon, and I are outside your house."

"Wtf?! Its 8! Why are you guys up?!" Roy texted back after glancing at the phone's clock.

" We want to see Marth! ;)"

"Hold on, im coming." Roy responded as he went to the window and peered through the window blinds. The driveway was empty, indicating that his parents left for work earlier. Careful not to wake Marth, Roy quickly yet silently ran down the stairs.

When he opened the door, he was greeted by the familiar faces of Link, Ike, and Toon. Though Link and Ike looked like they were ready for the day, Toon was still struggling to stay awake. The smaller Hylian yawned softly as he stretched. Much to Roy's surprise, Pit was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he was still sleeping. The angel was not a morning bird.

"Why are you guys here?!" Was Roy's stunned, loud exclamation.

"We want to see Marth before work." Ike answered as he walked into the house without another word.

"Can we see 'em?" Link asked with a polite smile. Toon just gawkily looked around.

Roy paused as he thought up of an answer, not noticing Ike walking up the stairs to the second floor. "I'm not sure... Marth is still sick. Also, he might be still asleep..."

"Not anymore!" Ike called down the stairs as he pulled Marth out of Roy's room. The bluenet was stumbling awkwardly, his socked feet slipping down the smooth, wood floor.

"Ike, what the heck?!" Roy shouted, his brows lowering in miff. "Did you drag him out of bed?! Also, when did you go upstairs?!"

"Well, he was getting up! I just want him to get out quicker!" Ike retorted.

"It's ok, Woy." Marth reassured as Ike released him from his grasp. "Ike didn't hurt me, I think..."

"Come in, Link and Toon." Roy said before yelling, "Marth, how are feeling?"

"...Kinda tired...?" Marth responded. "I don't feel as hot as before."

"Hey, is anyone hungry?" Link spoke up. "Toon and I hadn't eaten breakfast yet."

"I'm starved!" Ike responded, his loud voice thundering down the stairs. Marth jumped in surprise.

"Me neither." Roy answered. "Where do you guys want to eat?"

"Eat out?" Link scoffed. "I don't think so! I don't think Marth's stomach can handle 'em!"

"Yeah, that's a good point." Roy agreed. He felt a small nudge and looked down, making eye contact with Toon.

"Why don't we make somethin' here?" he suggested. "Do you have any ingredients we can use?"

Roy tried to recall some ingredients his father kept in the cupboards and the refrigerator. "Well, I think we have some pancake mix and bacon... Maybe some eggs, but there is not enough for all of us."

"We can make something out of it." Link reassured.

"Wait, can either of you guys cook?" Roy suddenly questioned. "I can't!"

There was a moment of silence. It was a question that froze the teens into a train of thought. That was a good question? Who could actually cook? It would be a shame if their cuisine became a one-way ticket to the hospital.

"Don't look at me!" Ike stated, trying not to make eye contact with his friends. "I can only make cup noodles, ok?"

"I don't know how to cook..." Toon just said, before his eyes lit out. "Hey Link, don't you cook?"

Link laughed, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. "I only help Dad! I don't actually cook!"

"Yeah you can! Just try!" Toon encouraged.

"Er, I can pull out a cookbook and try to follow the instructions." Link suggested. "C'mon, let's go!"

As the three went into the kitchen, Marth was about to carefully walk down the stairs when he was stopped by Ike. "Hey Marth, I have something to ask." He nonchalantly asked. Marth paused and looked back at Ike with large, curious eyes. Ike's brows were lowered, his expression stern and troubled.

"Y-Yes, what is it, Ike?" Marth responded.

"What happened to you yesterday?" Ike asked, his concerned tone mixed with a pinch of worry. "First thing I knew, you were all right. The next thing I knew, you suddenly disappeared and now you're home sick with a darn fever!" Ike's brash voice rose like his blood pressure along with his anxiety.

"Why are you asking?" Marth softly asked, a bit nervous and confused.

Ike internally sighed at himself. Don't be so hard on Marth! He was ill! Of course he would not understand what he was questioning! He could not properly think straight! His drawn lines were scribbles on a blank piece of paper. "Look, last night Roy only told me that he and his dad found you! He didn't give me the details. What happened yesterday? Why didn't you go to work?"

Marth trembled in fear as he remembered yesterday's traumatizing events. "I was going to work but then..." He paused. Did he really need to tell Ike what happened to him? He did not want to think about it! Thinking about a horrible experience results in the unintentional habitat of remembering the dreadful moment!

"...But then? Go on." Ike urged edgily.

"Well... I thought I saw someone I knew so I followed her into an alleyway, but it turned out it wasn't her!" Marth continued, clutching both of his hands. "I tried to leave, but some strangers came, grabbed me, and threw me into a van."

"Did you even try to fight back? Were they armed?"

"I tried to fight back, but there were too much of them." Marth sniveled uneasily. "They tied me up and put a cloth in my mouth... I think they had weapons..." Marth paused for a few moments. The quick yet shocking incident only felt like a few seconds in the present. It was difficult for him to recall details. "Then they took me to this scary place."

"Do you know where they took you?"

Marth shook harder. Ike's questions were slowly crawling up his spine, wrecking his nervous system. "I don't know... It was this building on an island close to Smashburg."

Ike gasped, his cobalt eyes widening in horror and disgust. His boiling head was beginning to complete the pieces of a puzzle depicting the infamous asylum in the middle of the wide, blue bay. "Why?!" he thought to himself, his face slightly turning white. "Why did that stupid asylum kidnap Marth?! There's nothing damn wrong with him!"

"Ike? What's wrong?" Marth asked when he noticed Ike's startled expression. "Did I say something bad?"

"Oh, nothing!" Ike immediately responded, trying to reassure the smaller bluenet with a shaky smile. "So, I guess that you broke out or something like that, right?"

"Y-Yeah." Marth's heart began to beat wildly. Although he was safe in home, remembering a terrifying experience often distorts the brain, who assumed that such a memory was actually occurring at the moment. Wanting to end the conversation, Marth shyly smiled at Ike. "Thank you for asking, Ike. It makes me feel better!"

Without another word, Marth quickly turned and was about to head into Roy's room when Ike suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders. "Hey, wait!" Ike exclaimed, his voice rising with his impatience as he accidentally slammed Marth into the wall, his grip tightening. Marth softly whimpered nervously. Did he anger Ike? "I have one more question to ask!"

"Y-Yeah! W-What is it?!" Marth stammered uncomfortably.

"What did these people do to you? Did they hit you?" Marth's eyes widened at Ike's low, furious question. The indigo-haired male's voice had a tone that could make even the most notorious gangs of the city run back to their mommies. Utterly alarmed, Marth's mouth refused to utter a small answer.

Not getting a response from Marth, Ike realized the agonizing grip he had on Marth's thin, weaker shoulder and the intimidating position he placed himself in. "Shit...!" he muttered as he immediately released Marth and backed away, giving more room for the smaller male. Marth slowly collapsed onto the floor, his back scrapping against the wall. His azure bangs covered his watery, large, cerulean spheres.

"...Marth?" Ike spoke up. Oh no, if he injured Marth either mentally, physically, or both, his friends would never forgive him!

"...Yes they did." Marth mumbled softly, his voice shaky and fearful.

"Say that again." Ike demanded, trying to sound gentler.

"They hit me! They hit me!" Marth exclaimed, before covering his mouth tightly with his hands. He bit his lips as he tried to hold in his muddying tears.

"Those assholes..." Ike's cobalt eyes narrowed, his hawk eyes lividly glaring at the ground. "If only I can get my hands on them!"

A weak sniffle was what caused Ike to soften his fuming glower and avert his eyes to Marth. "Damn it, I'm sorry Marth!" he quietly said, trying to soothe and calm the skinnier azure-haired male. "I didn't know what I was doing! I was just so angry!"

Marth made his way into Ike's arm and wrapped his arms around him in a forgiving embrace. "It's ok, Ike." He comforted, snuggling closer to the larger male for coziness.

Ike instantly felt the abrupt blast of warmth absorbed by his senses. "Dang, Marth! You're hot!" he remarked as he placed his large hand on Marth's pink, scorching forehead. "I'm stupid for dragging you out of bed like that!"

"I'm not that sick..." Marth protested. He squealed in surprise when Ike suddenly scooped him with his powerful arms and began to carry him into Roy's room. "Iiiiiike!" he cried out, trying to free himself from the other male's stronger grasp. "I can walk by myself! Also, I wanna help Woy and the others cook!" he whined childishly.

Ike grinned to himself. Marth was back to his childish self. "Nope! Stay in bed! If you suddenly fainted fell head-first into the stove, sink, or something like that, I don't know what to say to Roy's mom and dad!"

Marth was about to retort back when Ike lightly dropped him into Roy's bed. With an "Oof!" he gazed up at Ike who covered him in his soft, snuggly blanket.

"Stay in here until breakfast is ready, you got that?" Ike ordered.

"Y-Yeah!" Marth replied, mildly grasping the covers. As he watched Ike leave, a question unexpectedly popped up into his mind. "Ike, I have a question."

"What is it?" Ike turned to face the bluenet, who laid his head on the pillow and snuggled in his covers. "Do you need something?"

"No. I just want to ask if I deserve to go to the insane asylum." Marth stated.

"What? Say that again." Ike said, thinking that he misheard.

"Do you think I deserve to go to the insane asylum?" Marth's soft, cheery expression was erased with an invisible eraser. A pencil drew a firm, troubled expression on his blank face.

"No... Not to me anyway!" Ike answered, scratching the back of his head. That question came out of the blue. "Look, you don't need to worry! You don't have any mental disorders like me! Why did you ask that?"

"...I don't know to be honest." Marth answered, blushing madly in embarrassment. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't be sorry!" Ike responded. "Well, I'll wake you up when we finished making breakfast!" he said before he left.

Now alone, Marth pulled the warm covers closer to his boiling body. At that moment, he felt his bare head and realized that Elice's tiara was missing from its original position. A surge of panic bustling through his veins, Marth immediately looked at the bed stand and sighed loudly in relief. The fake toy tiara was sitting beneath the small lamp, waiting for its owner to pick it up and proudly wear it on his head.

Calming down, Marth clumsily reached for the tiara and placed it on his head. As he nestled back into his original position, he suddenly got the impression that he had seen the tiara before. When he meant "before", he did not meant from the day he met Elice. He meant that he saw the tiara at a moment of time that was stripped from his memories.


"Damn it, more murders!" Marth did not flinch a bit when he father abruptly slammed his newspaper onto the table. He peered up and looked at his father, whose facial expression was mixed with disgust and horror.

"What happened this time?" Liza asked, tapping her fingers anxiously on the breakfast table. She immediately regretted asking the question, as she did not want to picture the unfortunate victims' gruesome deaths.

"The first one, a single mother, was found stabbed to death in the garage along with her daughter who was crushed by the garage door!" Cornelius explained. "So terrifying... The daughter goes to Marth's school! Why in the world is everyone in that school getting killed?"

Marth softly scoffed to himself. He knew the reason why.

"And the police still haven't found a suspect?" Elice asked, her voice rising in disbelief. "This is unbelievable! The Masked Slasher must be very intelligent!"

"...What if he has intelligence above average?" Marth spoke up innocently, his eyes wide in horror. "Nothing could stop him!"

"Impossible." Cornelius scorned. "Intelligent people normally won't waste their time on murdering people."

The phone in the kitchen suddenly blared, its electronic tone bleeping a catchy tune. In response, the entire Lowell family silenced and awaited the message. Cornelius quickly got out of his seat and stood by the phone, preparing to pick it up. Unlike his mother and Elice, who were anxiously staring at the phone, Marth just continued to finish his breakfast. It must be a wrong number.

"Hello Smashville Prep Academy families! Due to this week's recent incidents, school is temporarily closed until further incidents are resolved. Thank you."

As soon as the message finished with an electrical, piercing beep, Cornelius instantly erased it. "Marth, it looks like school is currently canceled for you." He told his son, who looked back with stunned, large eyes. "Due to your fellow classmates getting attacked and killed, I guess the school wised up and decided to close it."

"...What?" Marth quietly gasped in astonishment. "R-Really? It's that bad?!"

"Of course it's bad!" Cornelius retorted straightforwardly. "The majority of the Masked Slasher's victims came from your school!"

"It's so terrible. I just want to study in that school and this is happening!" Marth sighed in frustration. "I just want to— !"

A second phone call was what interrupted Marth's grumble, its catchy tune slicing his sentence in half. Cornelius and Liza could only look at each other. A second phone call? What was happening? They normally did not get a lot of phone calls unless if it is acting related.

"Hello Smashburg Private Institute for Graduates families!" the voicemail greeted calmly. "Due to incidents happen in Smashburg, class is temporarily canceled until further notice. Sorry for the inconvenience." An earsplitting beep was followed as Cornelius erased the latest memo. The message's composed tone greatly confused Marth. How did these people sound so calm while talking about such violent incidents?

"So, it's really that bad..." Cornelius spoke as he went back to the table and sat down.

"I don't feel safe anymore." Liza commented. Her daughter nodded in agreement while her son only looked down. "Honey, what should we do? What if the Masked Slasher gets one of us?"

"Stay calm." Cornelius only ordered. "We just need to be careful and aware of our surroundings."

"Six people are already dead and you're telling me to stay calm?" Liza asked in cynicism. "I don't want Elice and Marth to get hurt and killed!"

Cornelius abruptly slammed his iron-hard fist onto the table, knocking over his cup of coffee. "I am sure that we just need to be careful! I am willing to bet that the victims were not even paying attention before they got murdered!"

Silencing immediately, Liza submissively looked away and sipped her tea with a tired, upset sigh.

Marth got up from his seat. "I'm full." He said as he walked out of the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Cornelius asked, his voice stern.

"Upstairs to my room. I need to study." Marth answered, looking at his father trustfully. "If school is closed for now, I must take advantage of the time I have." He added. "If I learn the material beforehand, I can get better grades!"

Marth softly smiled before he left the kitchen. His innocent smile slowly mutated into a sinister grin with each step on the staircase. He was satisfied for once, as not only that imprudent academy was closed, he have most of his time to himself. All of this happened due to the elimination of a few filthy people.

Though, Marth was not content yet. There were still so many dust and cinder he needed to sweep away and dump into the trash. The main problem was, the majority of them were clouded on or under heavy furniture. It would be hard to move them out of the way without getting his hands dirty.

His weight making the hallway floor rasp in pain, Marth entered his father's office. It was intimidating to most people. Its furniture, including its desk, bookcase, and even the rug were ancient, valuable antiques. It greatly expressed the wealth of the Lowell Family, and their fruitless efforts to achieve happiness.

Through, Marth was sure he was going to be the first member to be happy for once. Careful to not move a single object, as his father paid attention to little details, he quietly opened one of the drawers. Buried under a pile of dusty papers was a gun, one of the most lethal things in Earth. Marth cautiously took it out and silently closed the drawer, making as little noise as possible.


As he walked down the streets of Smashburg, Marth remarked how foolish and gullible people were. Before he snuck out of his house, Marth skillfully locked the door, making his family assuming he was studying. Such fools... People hardly enjoyed studying subjects they disliked. Despite the murders, he saw teenagers scrolling down the streets towards downtown Smashburg where the wharf was. The schools purposely closed down to protect their students from further harm, which ironically resulted in their students risking their lives to hang out with their friends. Children, especially teenagers, were ignorant fools. They believed that they were immortal to harm and tragedy.

Through, it was reasonable. There were no murders that occurred in the daytime. As Marth noticed, there were almost no people out after sunset.

Until now.

Marth reached into his coat's pocket and felt the gun in his hand as he recognized the elementary school. Like a lightbulb, it was off. It was completely silent like a ghost town. Marth then looked across the street and recognizable one of the apartment buildings; the building where the Hylian family lived. This was it. At this moment, Marth knew he was going to commit the ultimate sin, which will skyrocket Smashburg's fear of the mysterious, unnamed Masked Slasher. All he needed to do was make a turn, cross the street, and find a way to break into that home.

Smiling manically in the inside, Marth approached the corner and was about to turn when suddenly—

"BUMP!"

An unrecognizable blur of colors violently slammed into Marth, knocking him down onto the cold, hard sidewalk. With a grumble, Marth shakily got up and angrily glared at the source of the impact.

"I will show whoever got in my damn— !" Marth immediately froze as his angry cerulean eyes came across startled, large navy blue eyes.

Sitting on the ground clumsily was the little cardinal-haired boy with the drawing in his hand.


Author's Notes: I'm so going to regret staying up late tomorrow.

Sorry for the sorta-late update! I had a small case of writer's block, but luckily I kinda manged to cure it! Just to let you guys know, I'm beginning to upload this story on my dA account. (See profile for link if you're curious.) If you did read the first chapter, you will notice that it's different. That is because I'm in the process of editting errors and parts, so it would match my future fan comic! I will upload the rewritten chapters as soon as all of them are finished!

(I'm not going to ask questions because I want to see how many reviews I can get without those quesitons.)