Hotel Wario

by Sky's Penname

It's been a year since the case of my missing brother was solved - and things haven't gotten any easier. A vacation to a ritzy hotel with free food sounds great, right? ...Except a precious artifact has been stolen from Wario and we're all trapped here until someone can figure out who did it. It certainly won't be me, Luigi!

10. Uh-oh! Ow! Ooh Where am I?

I woke up in what felt like a terrible dream.

Or maybe I never woke up.

It was black. Everywhere. I couldn't see. All I knew was that I wasn't falling anymore. I tried to move my legs. I was still cramped inside something. The dumbwaiter?! I couldn't be sure.

Panic skittered across my ribs, inside my lungs. I inhaled dusty air, sputtering and gasping with each moldy breath. I was trapped in a nightmare, but I could feel everything.

Calm down, Luigi. Don't lose it just yet. Let's wait at least five minutes before you lose it.

I took a deep breath and tried my very best to relax. I needed to try to hear something besides the sound of my gasping. I let my chest rise and fall, felt my warm breath against my silky-smooth whiskers, and began to breath evenly.

Signs pointed to me potentially being alive. This was good, maybe.

Now that my heart wasn't pounding in my skull, I could hear something! Movement? What was it…?

Creaking wood… A low rhythmic gasping. It wasn't me! Lips smacking together… A theremin? You know, that instrument that goes like, 'OoOoOoOo!'

That was the tell-tale sign of ghosts floating around.

A million thoughts ran through my head. Were they angry ghosts? Friendly ghosts coming to rescue me? Evil ghosts coming to kill me? Was I the ghost making those theremin noises?! That's what happens when you die, isn't it?! You just hear theremin noises for the rest of eternity?! Oh no, that's too scary of a thought…

Then I felt gravity seem to stop working under me. I floated up, feeling freezing cold and lighter than foggy midnight air. It was still dark, but I think I was being carried. The gasping and lip smacking grew louder. I was being carried to it.

Should I scream?! Should I kick and flail wildly?! What if they were saving me? What if they were eating me?!

My body ignored my brain and decided that it was just going to curl up and stay absolutely still. I wish we could work together on these things more often, but then I just wouldn't be Luigi, would I?

Although, I might not be Luigi for much longer either…

As the noises grew louder and louder, I realized it wasn't exactly gasping I was hearing. It was more like inhaling. I know that doesn't sound all that different, but believe me, when you can't move and you're cut off from most of your senses, it makes a big difference.

Silverware clanked. Something slammed down into a table. The inhaling had stopped, but only briefly. I felt myself float closer before being put down on something. It smelled like rotting wood.

SLAM! …jingle…

Something scraped me closer to the lip-smacking noise. This repeated a few more times. Each time it slammed, each time I felt my tiny world experience an earthquake, I fought the urge to scream. Why? Why now of all times didn't I scream?!

With one final scrape, I felt myself directly beneath the inhaling thing. It was above me; it was all around me, gasping, sniffing. I felt humid breath slip into whatever box I was in. Hot, yet cold like a corpse.

Suddenly, I was free.

Something lifted my constraints, but I wasn't blinded by light or anything, no. If anything, it was still almost just as dark out, except here I was on a literal silver platter before an extremely hungry ghost.

Without a thought, the ethereal purple terror thrusted his fork towards me. I shrieked and shriveled up like a dried-up pasta noodle, narrowly avoiding it. The enormous ghost creature placed the empty fork into his mouth and raised his eyebrow when he realized he bit into nothing. With a growl, the ghost slammed another fork my way. I shrieked again and curved around it like a bit of lettuce you just couldn't get out of your bowl.

The humanoid ghost growled and loomed over me. Purple! Why was he purple?! His foggy lips were coated in sauce and drool, and he looked as round as a plum but if that plum had rotted years ago. He tossed his forks out and decided to come at me with hungry hands, his mouth an endless void.

I screamed one last time and finally my body decided, 'Hey maybe we should work together on this, bud,' and passed me the controller. I leapt to my feet and scrambled across the plates, kicking and tripping over the dirty dishes and falling on my back on top of an old table.

I couldn't see! I couldn't see anything!

I fished out my flashlight and switched it on faster than a Toad with a Power Star. I shone it directly at the purple ghost who was glaring at me, tongue flopping out of his perpetually open jaw.

"No one should see me eat! No one! No oooooone! Turn off the light! Let me eat in peace!" the ghost wailed.

I didn't want to see him! I didn't want to watch him eat! He was embarrassed, but more than that, he was furious that I had interrupted him. A ghost, so ashamed, so disgusted with himself in life, that even in death he couldn't rest, he couldn't accept himself. Or was it the people around him? Was it the world that made him think he could never be accepted?

In those cold lifeless eyes, as yellow as honey and bile, I saw fear. Fear of me. Me! He thought—no—he knew I was judging him. I wasn't, I really wasn't! I'm very open-minded and quite the food lover myself—

Before we could go on with this bit, the ghost decided it was time to start belching fireballs. Was there also a deep metaphor in that, I wondered? Was it linked to his life, his fears, his anguish? Or was it just convenient to spit fireballs at people who bothered you?

I guessed it was the latter as I tripped underneath the table, clutching my hat over my face.

Little whisps of tails floated out of the corner of my eye as snazzily dressed ghosts hurried over to the wailing purple ghost. They shoved another silver platter before him, quickly removing the fancy cover and revealed some old stinky bones and dirty napkins. He didn't even have time to grunt, he was already eating the 'food' again, acting as if he hadn't just set half the dusty dining room on fire. The other waiter ghost was pleasantly blowing out the flames, letting the hungry ghost go back to his food in the comfort of darkness.

This was my chance!

I scampered across the dusty floor, tripping and slipping over frayed and worn rugs that had lost their color over the years. Without much light or much thought, I screamed through the first double doors I saw, hoping with all my heart I had escaped those awful apparitions. My heart was pounding, my hands were shaking, and my legs felt like mushy springboards with the controls reversed.

After all this constant ruckus, it felt like I finally had a chance to breathe. Phew. Except… yuck! I coughed out black soot. Wherever I was, it was so smokey! Again with the limited visibility?! I tried waving my hand in front of my face, but nothing would get rid of this smoke! It smelled like… grilled boots? That's a really specific smell. My nose is huge and usually isn't wrong, but I was having my doubts about this.

Well, I wasn't getting anywhere in this acrid atmosphere, and I certainly wasn't going to allow myself to die from suffocation already after I just escaped one tight space. I switched on my Poltergust and sucked up all this dreadful debris, enjoying the satisfying Whirrr! as the black smoke twirled and danced into the nozzle, disappearing forever.

I just love cleaning! I wonder if Professor Gadd would ever install a power washer on this thing? A Poltergust/Fludd combo! Wouldn't that just be amazing?

Maybe I should have been paying more attention. With the smoke clearing, it was becoming more and more clear that someone or something was in here with me. Details formed vague outlines of a rusty kitchen, similar to the one in the hotel above, except this one was frankly disgusting! Old tires and green slime sat on the splotchy chrome counters. Stinking cheese and fishbones laid on dirty dishes as if professionally prepared by a master chef. Frying pans held empty expired milk cartons in them, cauldrons boiled empty boxes, and ovens steamed what appeared to be receipts and broken phones.

"HrrderDERE? HRERDERderringdis?!" a strange mumbling voice echoed over the literal trash fire of a kitchen. "HERD? HERDERDERBIN?" A gasp. "HERDERGRBIN—GREEN DEMON?!—HRDERBERDER?!"

Green demon?! W-where?! Who? What was this poor fellow saying?

The voice appeared before me suddenly. It was another ghost!

His ethereal chef hat was stained with ketchup and motor oil. His huge bushy mustache was as unkempt as his kitchen and seemed to be perpetually alight with a small fire. He approached me, pupil-less eyes enraged, but the sort of rage when someone finds a rat in their kitchen. He was afraid of me, but angry I was here.

In his grease covered hands, he gripped a lackluster frying pan, ready to squash me. I tried to argue with him, to plead I didn't want to cause any trouble! But when two mumbling men like us try to converse, it seems only confusion is what's heard. He swung at me, and I just barely dodged with a screech, forcing him to knock over a broken TV that he was hanging on a meat hook.

He cursed. Maybe? I still really couldn't tell what he was saying.

I scrambled across the wet tiles filled with curdled milk, banana peels, bits of shampoo, and other trash, slipping out through another pair of doors in attempt to escape.

"My word, could it be?"

"Goodness gracious it really was him!"

"The Green Demon! AAAAAIEEE!"

I'm such a clumsy fool! I had stumbled back into the dining room again where the ghostly waiters and that gruesome gluttonous guy were!

The waiters dropped their platters to scream and hold each other. This, of course, angered the hungry ghost once again.

"Leave us alone, GREEN DEMON!"

I swear I've never wanted to bother anyone! I'm so sorry! I don't know what I'm doing!

I decided now was the best time to give my legs free will. My brain clearly wasn't handling this, maybe my body would do better. So I ran! Somewhere! Anywhere! As long as it was somewhere else!

But when I crashed through another set of doors, I met with more ghostly eyes than I'd ever care to see. In the dim and blinking lighting, I landed myself in what appeared to be the entrance hall to a ghost hotel, except this one had no exit. The doors that may have once led to freedom were destroyed, an avalanche of dirt and debris in its place.

"The Green Demon! RUN!"

Huh!? What?! I was trying to run away from them! But they were also running away from me?! Ghosts in dresses, ghosts in suits, ghosts in all shapes and colors screamed and flew away in any direction as long as I wasn't there. Tan colored Boos screamed as I accidently tripped into them, throwing us both into fright-filled fits.

I swear! I was trying to run away! I didn't mean to keep running into them!

Just keep moving! Just keep moving! Amid the ghostly gasps of horror and my own shrill shrieks, I ducked under tables (finding more cowering ghosts and terrorizing them) and busted through doors only to find small, terrified ghost families who covered their children's eyes at the sight of me.

Where do I go? Where am I? What did I do!? What do I do?!

I ran around in what felt like circles, like one of those repeating levels where you go out the right side of the screen and end up on the left side of the same screen.

At some point I ran through another pair of doors, into what seemed like another kitchen, and I had the dreadful sensation that I was about to run into the same exact awful ghosts I had started with! But something wasn't right, it didn't seem as dirty in here? Of course, there were still cobwebs and creaky floorboards, but that's standard ghost stuff.

I slammed my face into a soft white pillow, knocking me down onto the cold clean tiles.

"Huh? What's all the screaming going on outside? Did Mr. Luggs get out again?"

The white pillow I had run into turned to face me. It wasn't a pillow at all! It was a B-B-Boo! His eyes inspected me, confused. His fang-filled smile struggled to form a frown as he tucked his long tongue inside his mouth.

"Oh. It's Luigi. That makes sense." He nodded.

I simply screamed in response, unable to pick myself off the floor. How did he know my name?! No one alive ever seems to know who I am!

"Calm down, calm down!" the Boo said, looking more annoyed than angry. "Listen—Hey! Stop screaming!—Listen! Look! My name is JamBoolaya! I'm the head chef down here! It's fine, I'm not going to hurt you, as long as you stop hurting my non-existent ears!"

Er! Um! I stuffed my hand over my mouth and let the scream slowly fade out of my chest. Head chef? I didn't understand. I thought I already ran into a kitchen and a chef before?

The Boo chef shook his head (Body?). "That's Soulfflé. He's a chef in name only. We keep him and Mr. Luggs close to each other and they basically do us all a solid by getting rid of everyone's trash and keeping to themselves."

Mr. Luggs…? Was that the ghost with his unending appetite?

"Yeah, that's him." JamBoolaya held out his ghostly little nub of an arm to me and helped me up. He felt freezing to the touch. Somehow my heart slowed, and noticed I was screaming into my hands a little less. "Some ghosts have it more together than others. The best we can do is try to help others like Mr. Luggs, and hopefully, find a way they can help us in return."

I was trying to understand. My mind was still reeling. I still didn't know where I was or why there were so many ghosts or why this Boo was so nice or why everyone knew me and was calling me a Green Demon or—

"Slow down, buddy," JamBoolaya said. "First of all, I don't even know why you're down here before you start asking why we're down here. It's stuff like this that got you the title of Green Demon, you know. You break into mansions and other old places and start chasing everyone around like you own the place! We were there first! But…" He sighed. "That seems to just be how the living treat us anyway."

But I was… I didn't mean to! I just…

The Boo let out another defeated sigh. "Okay, okay, relax, relax. I'm used to keeping everyone together here. How about you take a seat and I'll give you something to eat and we can have a nice long chat about things. The sooner you get what you want, the sooner you'll be out of our ectoplasm."

Er… um… That's really generous, actually. I didn't know Boos could ever be nice?

JamBoolaya frowned at that, but still motioned for me to sit at a dusty old stool by the counter. "I guess I can't blame you. You don't even remember me, but I tried to give you some trouble more than a few years back. You sucked me up with that gross machine there like I was a dust bunny." He pointed to my Poltergust. "And left me with quite a bit of time to think and chill out."

Oh goodness, did I? I felt so embarrassed.

"Nah, nah, it's okay," JamBoolaya said. "I deserved it. I'd been listening to King Boo's drivel like most the other ghosts do and he had me brainwashed thinking all you living folk were bad guys. You know Bowser, right? Guy's a jerk, but he's charismatic. Might even care about people in his own messed up way."

JamBoolaya went on.

"King Boo's charismatic but in all the wrong ways. He says the worst, most vile and despicable things, and he gives you the comfort of not having to question yourself. Of not having to grow. He lets you think it's not only okay, but better to keep your dated views and stagnate. He corrupts those of us that don't know any better and he gives those truly cruel souls the confidence to come out. It's like mind control, but you work for him willingly."

That was truly frightening. I admit, there have been times where life seems so difficult, so hard, that I had wished I could just let someone else make all my decisions for me. To think, I could let that happen and someone as terrible as King Boo could be the one to take control.

"Don't think about it too much, guy." JamBoolaya dropped a bowl of piping hot something in front of me on the counter. "It's really embarrassing. You'd think things get different; things get better when you die right? Honestly, it's the same as always. The rich die rich and keep all the power and never want to move on. The poor stay poor and can't get the help they need to move on."

Oh geez. That's terrible. I remember Professor E. Gadd vaguely mentioning about the world of the dead's politics.

"Yeah, he's absolutely a boogeyman in these parts," JamBoolaya said. "Can't say I blame them. He's not a perfect guy either, but he's trying to fix his mistakes it looks like. He's one of the few people trying to learn about our society now, trying to spread the word. King Boo acts like that's worse than dying a second time."

I gazed into the steaming bowl of ethereal meat and vegetables before me. It actually looked delicious? I was getting more and more comfortable with this JamBoolaya fellow. I took a spoonful of his cooking and gulped it down.

It went right through me. Literally. But, wow, boy was it tasty! Hot tangy sauce and tender chicken floated over my tongue before going to a better place (My stomach.) It reminded me a lot of Vivian's void dinner, except a little less insanity inducing. It still had that interesting marshmallow mouthfeel, like it was there and wasn't.

He must have been the chef that made her food!

JamBoolaya's expression visibly brightened. "You like it, huh? Now that's what makes this death worth dying for. None of that pulling pranks or terrorizing people ever feels as good as making someone happy with something you created."

I took another bite. It was irresistible! JamBoolaya was clearly a master! Was he a chef before he died?

The Boo laughed, but not an eerie or spooky laugh. "That's a great question, buddy. You can just call me Jam, by the way. I know my name's a mouthful, that's the point." He winked. "Anyway, none of us really know who we were before we died."

Really?! That's so strange! So many ghosts seem to have their own names or personalities or talents!

"Yep." Jam nodded. "If you thought being alive was a mess, you'll be sad to know it only gets messier when you die. You'd think you'd have some memories, right? Well, you probably did, but everyone forgets at some point."

I slurped up my hot meal, enjoying the warmth it provided me in this dreary place, enjoying Jam's talk. He seemed to be quite a lonely fellow, but I bet he would never admit to that.

"When you die, it's a pretty confusing affair…" Jam sighed and sat his ghostly body on the counter next to me. "I can't remember what I was like when I first appeared, but I've seen plenty of other 'fresh' ghosts if you will. You know Boos that just mindlessly haunt people? The ones that stick to the ceilings or the floors and just move back and forth forever?"

Ah, yes. I was all too accustomed to those types of Boos…

"Yeah." Jam nodded. "Those are the 'younger' ghosts I guess you could call them. When you die, everything just sort of… goes into a blur. Nothing is how you know it anymore. Your memories, the laws of physics, your life, it's all thrown out the window and you're just this little essence of undeath struggling to understand. All you can do sometimes is just go back and forth for years and years while you try your hardest to function. This is all assuming we even came from someone's soul in the first place, mind you. We might even just appear out of thin air."

"Were we troubled in life; I wonder?" Jam went on. "Is this just what happens to everyone who dies? Or is it only the ones who were unfulfilled? Who struggled? Who just didn't want it all to end? There's so many of us, but there's not that many of us, but at the same time… who knows? There could be billions of lost spirits roaming underground or out in space and who would ever know?"

Wow. Deep stuff. I slurped my ghost jambalaya. Yummy.

"And some do move on. I've had friends who are so kind, so pleasant, so peaceful, that one day they just… vanish." Jam let out a sad breath. "And they're gone. Forever. You can't be sad about it. You shouldn't be, at least. They're finally happy. But I can't say it fills me with peace. Selfish, I know."

Hm. I think I understood him.

He tried to shake it off. "Point is! I learned to cook because at some point I got tired of scaring folks, got tired of making other people miserable just because I was! Called myself GumBoo for a while. Didn't like it much. Decided I liked JamBoolaya better. Tried doing an accent for a bit. Thought, 'maybe this is messed up,' and stopped doing that. I wasn't the best chef by a long shot, and I wonder if I was ever a chef in life, but dang if I don't like doing it and making spirits happy!"

Jam had a lot to say. I didn't mind. I liked listening to him.

"And lemme tell ya! There's a lot of unhappy spirits! I don't know if I'll ever be at peace with all the misery out there in the world. King Boo certainly isn't helping! He acts like he's helping, acts like it's all for us, but he's just using us for his own gain! He's fearmongering so we'll listen to him! He'll never move on. Why would he? He's got everything he wants! Or at least he thinks that."

King Boo! That's exactly why I came down here. I was curious and this Boo seemed like he was just chatty enough to answer my questions.

Why did ghosts and Boos call me the Green Demon?

Jam raised a transparent eyebrow at that. "Kinda obvious, don't you think? For one, King Boo hates your guts, and I mean HATES you." Sheesh. I felt like a freezing hand had grabbed my ribs just at the way he said it. "He spreads all kinds of rumors about you. Not that they're all completely untrue either…"

I laughed nervously.

"You know how 1-UPs give you a life?" Jam said. I didn't. "Well. When you're already dead, you don't want one of those. They say—just like those awful green mushrooms—the Green Demon follows you relentlessly. When he sees you, he'll never stop. He'll chase you till the end of time. You can't escape. All it takes is one little touch and you're gone."

Eep! Even I was getting scared of myself!

"Luckily…" Jam waved all that away. "I've already dealt with you before. I know you're more like a green lemon than a green demon. Although…" He nodded. "There's actually some ghosts that take on what we call the 'Green Demon Challenge.' They purposefully fight you in an attempt at fame and notoriety! Remember, we're all confused dead people here. Some of us will try anything to feel again."

Huh. So that's why some ghosts seem so aggressive with me…? But that got me thinking. Why are there so many different types of ghosts? There's Boos and then there's humanoid ghosts like Mr. Luggs and that other chef. What's up with that?

"Another good question!" Jam said, brightening. This was clearly something that kept him up at night and he was thrilled someone wanted to talk with him about it. "I don't know! But I have a theory. I think people like Mr. Luggs might have more closely held onto their lives, their memories, either against their will, or just because they didn't want to lose themselves. So you'll see ghosts like them, repeating what they did in life over and over and over for centuries, for millennia!"

I heard something scampering through the kitchen, shifting through the cupboards. I tried to ignore it and not scream because I knew Jam hated that. I just wanted to be polite and listen.

"And then… you got ghosts like me." He motioned his little nubs to himself. "Us Boos and the like are a lot more malleable, a lot more flexible. Maybe I was a human in a past life? Maybe I was a Goomba? Maybe I was a Yoshi or a Piranha Plant even! The point is, I don't know. That's why I think we're more shapeless. But because of that, we can make new versions of ourselves, make new memories! I think this is better, personally."

I wanted to nod along sagely and agree with him because I have a fatal case of People Pleaser syndrome, but unfortunately, I felt something sniffing at my leg. I let out a yelp, and so too, did that something else. Before I knew it, a creature was jumping on my chest, licking my face, and licking up my jambalaya!

"Ugh, bad dog!" Jam shouted. "Stop jumping up on the counters! I give you plenty of food!" The incorporeal canine didn't listen. Jam had to bop the ghostly doggy on the head before it jumped down, tail wagging like mad, yipping and barking like it was having the time of its life. Or death? "Sorry about that. This is a stray Polterpup I stupidly started feeding about a year or so back."

Polterpup? A… A ghost dog? It whined at the mention of itself, demanding pets. I felt I had no choice but to pet behind his cold little ears. Or, er, well, where his ears would be if he had any.

"Yeah, like I said, us ghosts come in all shapes and sizes," Jam said, taking the bowl from me. "You don't want this anymore, right? Got ectoplasm slobber all over it." I shook my head. He put the bowl down on the tile and the ghost doggy turned into a shredder. He devoured the contents of the bowl. "Who knows if this little guy was a dog when he was alive? You see plenty of them around. I've never seen 'em turn into anything too sentient, but they also seem a bit smarter than your average dog, too."

Huh. My eyes fell onto his bright red collar. It was so eye-catching.

"He came with that," Jam said. "Most Polterpups already have collars on 'em, but it doesn't mean they have an owner. Maybe it's a trace of what they used to be? I don't know. All I know is that this little guy's a hyperactive mess, running and jumping around everywhere like a maniac! He's been stuck inside with all of us since that stupid barrier turned on too so he's making me double crazy."

The Polterpup let out a warbly, 'Arf arf!' as it was already done eating, not a single speck of food left in the bowl. It quickly returned to hassling me, demanding pets and licking my face. I couldn't help but giggle.

"Seems to like you a lot, but he likes everyone." Jam did the closest thing to a shrug as a Boo could. "Try not to give him too much attention or he'll never stop annoying you. Trust me."

As I continued to pet this funny little puppy all over, (He pushed his chin onto my hand, rolled around in my lap for belly rubs.) I wondered.

There's been all these ghosts, all these people under Wario's hotel this whole time? How can it be that they've never shown up above?

"King Boo." Jam said joylessly. "He made a deal with Wario that no ghost ever shows up there and no living person ever bothers us down here. I'm sure you're aware by now, but Wario built his hotel over ours. Literally. Pounded us underground. It wasn't all that bad until we all got trapped here with that barrier. Now we're feeling like claustrophobic Toads, and King Boo is still threatening us to never go up there."

That's awful! But King Boo was just who I was looking for. I don't know what I was thinking going to find him on my own, but at this point, what else could I do? I was already here. I needed answers. King Boo was the only one who could answer them.

I wished I had Vivian at my side.

"Take it from me, kid," Jam said, shaking his head. "Go back up on that little dumbwaiter you took and forget all about us down here."

The Polterpup whined as if it didn't want to be forgotten.

I couldn't give up now, though! This wasn't like how it was with Bowser. I wasn't trying to find King Boo because someone told me to. I was going because… because… I was telling me to! Over and over in my head, a little voice was telling me I had to do it! I had to! And I couldn't say no. Or … I could? But if I did, I wouldn't get anywhere! Besides, who else could deal with King Boo? I was the only one.

I've dealt with Smithy and Cackletta, too! I can do this!

JamBoolaya's expression turned sour. The room was already cold, but I swear a chill creeped in. Fog escaped my trembling lips as I breathed. Even the Polterpup quieted.

"You've gone up against Bowser, Smithy, and even Cackletta, huh?" Jam said, mulling over the facts. The room felt darker. "I guess maybe you could handle King Boo. He's technically weaker than them I suppose, and you've beaten him before but…"

And then, I had the sudden feeling that the world around me had disappeared. It was just me and Jam and a quiet Polterpup. It was like we were sitting around a campfire telling scary stories in the dead of night. Except that campfire had long since turned to ash, and the trees had withered and perished, and the moon had fallen out of the sky.

The ghost leaned in and told me his story.

…

King Boo's strength has always been that he cares.

How is that a scary strength you ask?

Hmm…

It's not to say that someone like Cackletta doesn't care. She clearly cares very much about getting what she wants. But King Boo, well, he cares a lot about the… people… involved. He cares… too much.

Cackletta, someone like her from what I understand, she'd just stab you and be done with you if you got in her way, right?

King Boo… he cares very. VERY. VERY much. If you cross him—if you UPSET him. He'll remember. He'll ALWAYS. REMEMBER. King Boo will take his grudge against you well past the grave. He doesn't have all the ultimate power that some of these other guys have, but he has time, and he has a limitless supply of cruelty.

That's why even us ghosts are scared of HIM.

…

I gulped. The Polterpup made sure to get me out of my funk by demanding more pets.

"Heh heh," Jam laughed, the kitchen and the slight warmth of the room returning. "Not quite the vote of confidence you wanted to hear, right? Sorry. Just looking out for you."

Even a nice Boo like Jam still had a mischievous streak it seemed.

"Anyways," Jam said, waving away that horror story like it was nothing more than a trick of the light. "King Boo might be our king, and he might have a lot of followers, but it doesn't mean we all like him. He's a cruel, despicable being, but he's not alone in that. There's plenty of cruel ghosts out there, just like there were plenty of cruel living people. They are the ones that worship the ground he floats on; they are the ones that protect him."

It made sense, sadly.

JamBoolaya let out a sigh of deep annoyance. He rifled something out of his ghost pockets and showed it to me. A ghost ID made of cheap and efficient ghost plastic (plastic that had died, of course.) "So, you remember how I used to be GumBoo right?" I nodded vaguely. "It took King Boo's Booreaucracy about 50 years to actually update my ID to let me legally change my name. When you met me as GumBoo the first time those years back, I was still waiting for my ID." He shook his head. "But. Look."

I inspected the little ethereal ID. Next to the picture of a VERY happy Boo with a chef hat, was the name JumBoolaya. Oh. Spirits seem to have a lot of trouble with IDs, don't they? Poor Vivian wasn't the only one.

"It's Jam! JamBoolaya!" Jam hissed, stuffing it back into his void pocket. "Not Jumbo! I'm not even that big! Ugh! I requested to get it fixed years ago, and who knows when that'll happen. I still have to write all my legal documents with JumBoolaya or they hassle me!"

He pressed his little nubby hands into his head as if he had a headache. Can ghosts get headaches? That's awful! What's the point?!

"I got a little sidetracked and a little gabby," Jam admitted with a sigh. "Sorry about that, buddy. I know this is a cliché for dead people to say, but seriously, get out while you can."

I looked down at my hands. They weren't shaking. They were too busy petting the tummy of a cute ghostly puppy. The Polterpup looked up at me with those big white glowing eyes and yipped happily. It was as if it was saying, 'You can do it, Luigi!'

I shook my head at Jam. I couldn't run away now.

No—that's not true. I could run. But I didn't want to. I was making a choice. Hearing Jam's story and how similar it was to Vivian's—knowing that I could potentially save everyone the hassle by finding the thief and get us all out of here—I had to do it. Who else would? Goombella and Toadette? They didn't have a way to handle ghosts. Not ghosts like King Boo at least.

"Determined to make the worst mistake of your life and death, huh?" Jam frowned. "I get it. I was young once too." Er. I wasn't exactly young, but I guess compared to him I was. "Well, I hate to do this to you, but I won't help you find him, Mr. Green Demon." Ah. He was using that name again to make a point. "It's for your own good and for everyone else's sake. Forget about us down here."

The Polterpup suddenly scrambled to his feet at the mention of 'Forget about us.' He leaped to the kitchen's exit, barking, yipping, demanding I look at him, like he was saying, 'Don't forget about me! Follow me! Luigi! C'mon! Hurry!' I couldn't help but feel compelled to follow that excitable bright red of his collar.

Was that little ghost dog saying any of that? Thinking any of that? Or was I just so painfully lonely…?

Jam turned sour, his frown darkening. "After all I did for you, huh? You're gonna ignore me and go messing with things you shouldn't?"

But… I was trying to help! The Polterpup barked and barked and barked, beckoning me, begging me to stay with him.

"Help?" Jam growled. "How do you think you're going to help if you go and get yourself killed, huh? How do you think I'll be ever be able to rest, knowing it was my fault for letting you go?! I've been dead for so long. And I still can't rest, still can't move on. Just play it safe, and LEAVE."

This was clearly a touchy subject for poor Jam. And it was a touchy subject for me, too. Something about this felt all too familiar, all too painful. I couldn't help but think of my brother. If he had played it safe—if he had never gone out and helped people…

The Polterpup whined and barked and hopped in place, drowning out my invasive thoughts.

There was never going to be an easy choice, there was never going to be a safe bet. If I just left now, I'd go back to my room and we'd all still be locked up. If my brother never went out into the world and helped people the way he did, it doesn't mean he'd still be with me. It just means the world would be worse off.

And if I had to take a gamble—my choice might as well be the one that helps me the most, the one that helps everyone the most. Wasn't that the safest bet in the long run?

I waved goodbye to Jam and made my way to the door, following the red collar of this heroic puppy.

"Maybe King Boo wasn't so wrong about you after all…!" JamBoolaya hissed behind my back. "Well! Take that stupid mutt off my hands then! And don't even think of coming back! Both of you! You'll regret it, I swear you will!"

As the doors swung closed behind me, I felt the frigid deathly atmosphere envelop me again. I'm sorry, Jam. I've never been good at making the right decisions.

The Polterpup yipped with more glee than a Yoshi in an all-you-can-eat buffet. He licked my face, he ran in circles around me, before leaping off down the long cob-webbed hallways of this haunted hotel. If I had listened to Jam and left, wouldn't I have made this poor puppy sad?

Somehow, I don't think my heart could take that.

So, I followed the ghost puppy through death-filled halls, infested with dust bunnies and the souls of those who simply couldn't let go. I follow a lot of animals around, don't I? I wonder if that's smart? One could almost say this place was lively, but that just wasn't the right word. Nothing was right about it, and I don't think it ever would be until I joined them on the other side.

Most of the ghosts, spirits, and Boos turned tail at the sight of me, screaming and vanishing into the peeling wallpaper. I honestly just wanted to do a little cleaning up. So much dust! I let out a sneeze, and one of the ghosts playing a fang-filled piano glared at me. I waved sheepishly at the cliché looking piano player, and he realized quickly who I was. With a shriek, he leapt into the piano's maw and slammed it, locking himself in like a coffin.

Sheesh, this wasn't how things usually went with me and the undead. I guess the difference was these ghosts weren't prepared for me, they weren't ready to fight me. Like everyone in the hotel above, they've been locked away for days, been told they can never leave, that they should never interact with the living.

A couple of colorful characters here and there were brave, were angry, and seemed to be taking the 'Green Demon Challenge' that Jam described before. I hate to say it, but I dispatched them rather easily. With a flash of light and a whirr of my vacuum, they were gone before they could say, 'Ooga booga!' It didn't feel fair. Usually there's a lot more of them trying to get me, but here they were in the minority. I promised them I'd let them out when all this was over. Sorry!

Professor E. Gadd was right. There was so much more to the ghosts than I could have ever thought. I hoped one day I could get rid of this Green Demon title and maybe just become a Green Friend? But, after what happened with Jam, with what I was about to do, Green Demon seemed like it was going to stick harder than a hungry Fuzzie.

The Polterpup let out a bark of delight as he led me through creepy rooms and up creaky stairways. He hopped up on nearly every rusty counter, every dilapidated bookcase, every object he could see. He was speedy, he was precise, and he just had so much energy! His little tail wagged back and forth as he jumped across long gaps between dimly lit chandeliers and broken lamps, as he quite literally ran and jumped up between walls instead of just taking the stairs. He reminded me of someone very dear to me, someone I still have trouble saying the name of.

At least this little puppy liked me. Maybe that was enough.

After a long trek through creepy corridors and spooky stairs, I noticed how this old rotten hotel was getting ritzier and ritzier. It wasn't quite the level of Wario's gaud, but the ego was certainly there, if not worse. The Polterpup scampered happily into a golden statue's mouth, shaped like a huge King Boo. Dusty jewels glared under the dim glow of ethereal lights, piercing and angry. Portraits of King Boo lined the halls, and every one of them seemed to follow me, eyes gleaming with fury.

At last, Polterpup's excited scampering came to an end before a grand door, made of searing silver and inlaid with grumpy gems. This was a boss door if I'd ever seen one.

Could I really do this? Sure, I've done it before, but it only takes one mistake before I'm gone forever.

Polterpup barked. He jumped up on two legs and crashed into my tummy, licking my face. This little guy believed in me at least! I just had to try. That's all. I didn't need to be perfect. I just had to try.

I used my entire body to push open the heavy doors, the cold soulless silver creeping through my overalls and into my skin. Inside, I heard a groan, but I knew it wasn't King Boo. It sounded feminine. As I nervously scooched in, I heard oppressive pen scribbling, speedy and efficient, but full of hate.

The room appeared to be an enormous office. It was a glorious office, with faded velvet curtains and state of the art television screens across the walls. Each screen showed static-filled pictures of various floors from the haunted hotel, most of them focusing on an insignificant green speck. Wait. That speck was me!

Across the way, the furious scribbling revealed itself on a magnificent old oak desk. The first thing I noticed was the massive lump of hair tied up in a big blue bun, bouncing back and forth as her purple head jerked between huge stacks of paper. She wore an extravagant feather scarf at her shoulders, and the red gem at her neck reminded me so much of King Boo's crown.

I gulped. "H-hello?"

The scribbles stopped. Golden eyes, rich with irritation found mine. The ghost woman stopped everything she was doing to glare at me. "Well, if it isn't the Green Demon," she said with a sneer, her beautiful red lipstick and pearly white smile at odds with the acid in her voice.

Matching the ghost woman, a curious cat leaped up onto the desk to stare. A Polterkitty?! It's three tails wagged dangerously. It hopped down and ran towards me, either to greet me, or shred me apart, I wasn't sure. Luckily, my Polterpup jumped through me and barred the way, tongue lolling. The Polterkitty found the puppy repulsive and merely cleaned its paws, pretending it wasn't interested in me.

"You don't know me," the woman said with a bright smile that would haunt my nightmares. "But I know you so very well, Luigi." I didn't like that she knew my name. She gingerly moved the miniature King Boo statue on her desk out of the way so we could better see each other. "I'm Hellen Gravely, the owner of this hotel."

She was the owner? I thought…

Hellen Gravely's perfect smile twitched, her lips fighting a vicious scowl. "But you didn't know that, did you? Who would know that, hm? You probably thought this old hotel belonged to King Boo, didn't you?"

Er…. Um…

She slammed her fist into the desk. The King Boo statue shook, and papers went flying. "ANSWER ME."

Yikes! Okay! I—I thought this was King Boo's hotel!

Miss Gravely seemed to notice her fury was visible and took a deep breath. She powdered her face, pretending she had never expressed any emotion at all. "I don't blame you. I'm nothing more than a glorified secretary. I doubt you've ever even heard of me until now. Yes?"

Um… Er… I didn't want to make this woman angrier than she already was. Rage bubbled under her ghostly flesh, it popped out in strands of hair from her perfect head. She seemed like she was always one marble away from losing them all together.

"Don't make me keep asking you the same question twice, boy."

Geez! Why did she even bother asking me if the answer was just going to make her mad? I admitted to not knowing her.

"I thought so." She put her long slender fingers together as she spoke. "Now. Let me guess. You want to see King Boo, don't you, Luigi?"

Oh no. Was I going to have to fight her to see him? I really didn't want to.

I nodded. I had come this far. I couldn't let her stop me.

Hellen Gravely laid her chin on her palm, elbow on the desk. It felt almost blasphemous for a snazzy lady like her. "Oh, I won't stop you. In fact, I think you'll be helping me more than you think." She smiled that beautifully haunting smile of hers. "All I ask is you listen to my story in return, hm? Grant a woman a pretty little request like this, won't you?"

No fighting? No duel to the death filled with maniacal laughter and long-winded attack sequences that leave her open for damage?! That sounded perfect! People really love telling me their life stories, don't they? I don't mind!

"I really shouldn't be introducing myself as Hellen Gravely," she started, staring at the King Boo statue with dull eyes. Behind her, an enormous painting, bigger than I've ever seen, loomed over the room, over her. King Boo's dark maw opened wide, as if it was ready to devour us at any moment. "I should be introducing myself as Queen Hellen Gravely by now."

Oh great, another royal egomaniac. What was with the people in this city and their need for monarchs?!

"Do you know what it's like? Being a woman?" Miss Gravely asked. I couldn't say, but I was always open to the idea. "It's not worth the trouble. Don't bother. I'll never understand why that Vivian so desperately wants to change that."

Hellen Gravely knew of Vivian?

She laughed a sarcastic spiteful laugh. "Of course I do, little boy. Who do you think runs the show? Who do you think comes up with all the brilliant ideas around here? I was the one who suggested to King Boo that she followed you, despite his pigheaded protests. I devised the plan to dangle her gender over her head like a carrot on a stick. Cruel, I know, but that's how we have to make it in this dead world."

Was she not a fan of King Boo? She seemed so close to him, she had so many pictures of him all around, so many statues. I didn't say this out loud, but I figured she might be borderline obsessed with him. (I know about obsession personally.)

Hellen Gravely turned the statue at her desk listlessly, as if she were trying to find a good side of King Boo. She gave up. "There was a time you could say that I was… a fan of his. I am his—" she shuddered at the word as if it were vulgar. "—Girlfriend. Not his wife. But his girlfriend." She paused. "His." She mulled the word over in her mind like a fine wine. "I suppose even if I were his wife, I'd still just be his, wouldn't I? A tool."

"Being locked in my own hotel that no one even knows exists, being forced to stay below like some nobody for days on end while I continue to work on the endless mind-numbing bills and papers and forms and requests…" She motioned to the huge stacks of paper that nearly touched the absurdly high ceiling. "It's given me time to think what a pig that man is."

Goodness. I never knew King Boo even had a girlfriend. He forced her to stay away from the living guests like all the other ghosts? Except Vivian, who I guess, isn't really a ghost…?

"After all I've done, after all I've given him, he still won't even give me the time of DAY!" Her voice screeched like nails on rusty metal. She composed herself again. "Well. I've had enough groveling; I've had enough serving under him like some maid. You want to see King Boo so badly, don't you, Luigi?"

I nodded.

She smiled, chilling me to the core. Her long finger pointed at my back. "And you have that dirty vacuum in working order, yes?" I nodded again, leaning it into her vision. Her red lips curled into an even brighter grin. "Perfect. I think I can find you an opening in King Boo's busy schedule right…" She flipped through a notebook and scribbled something. "Now."

That was easier than I expected. Too easy.

"Go on in, Mr. Green Demon. King Boo will see you now." With a light giggle that terrorized my ears, she pressed a button, opening another ornate set of doors with King Boo's fang-filled face etched on it.

I stared at the open doors, choking mist spilling out like ooze. My legs held still as steel, refusing to budge. The Polterpup yipped and jumped ahead. The Polterkitty merely appeared to laugh at this creature's stupidity, purring happily at its owner's side. Hellen Gravely's smile stayed as bright and full as a midnight moon.

The Polterpup didn't want to wait for me, or perhaps it couldn't wait for me. With heroism or foolishness, it scampered into the foggy dark void of King Boo's room, yipping all the way. The red of his collar vanished, devoured.

No! No, I couldn't let him go on his own! I couldn't lose him again!

My legs worked, slipping into full gear as I chased after. King Boo was not one to treat a mischievous animal like the Polterpup well, and I couldn't—I just couldn't allow that little dog to get hurt!

I cut through the fog, tripped through the darkness, my senses completely cut off from the rest of the world. Barking echoed in the distance, like, 'Come on, Luigi! This way!' It was the only thing I could hear. A chill skittered in my chest, crawled through my throat, and a fog coughed out of my mouth. It was freezing.

When I reached the Polterpup, I hugged him tightly and scolded him for running off. He simply licked my face and looked confused as to why I cared so much about him.

" What is all that racket?"

The voice echoed through this nearly empty office, loveless, underused. In the dark, I could barely make out more than a dark desk and a fireplace that probably had never been lit. King Boo had never been an interior decorator, it's always something other people did for him. He cared only for efficiency.

His eyes were the first thing I saw in the dark, redder than the fiery gem atop his crown. Dark bags sagged and drooped under his eyes like hanging corpses, even darker than usual. Then came his scowl, filled with daggers, mouth longer than any Boo's I had ever seen. King Boo must have been one of the oldest Boos, one who refused to ever find peace. He had been around for a long time, and his malformed soul was clearly visible to all.

"YOU!" King Boo boomed. "What are you doing here?!" He paused, his expression twisting ever farther into displeasure. "I shouldn't be surprised. You always stick your big nose into everything. Don't you, Green Demon?" It seemed the only pleasure he derived was making that cruel nickname for me.

I hugged the Polterpup close to my chest. In this frigid void, even the ghost dog was warmer.

I told King Boo I was investigating the theft, trying to find the Pot of Luxeville.

He glared, his massive billowing form growing closer, bigger. "And what makes you think it's here, hm?" His eyes burned, knowing all too well what I was implying.

The Polterpup tried to scramble out of my grip, but I wouldn't let him. It was too dangerous. I told King Boo how no one's been able to find the Pot of Luxeville and how a huge hidden hotel like this one was the perfect place to look.

This only amused King Boo. "There's no reason for it to be here. No one even knows this place exists other than Wario." He sighed and his smug expression melted like raw flesh. "Except you now of course."

I fought the urge to run, I fought the urge to apologize and agree with him.

No! That wasn't a good enough defense! In fact, this hidden hotel was more reason to be suspicious! If King Boo had stolen the artifact, he had the perfect place to hide it where no one would ever find it!

"Is that a tone I'm hearing from you, boy?" King Boo hissed, hovering at my side. "I see you've only grown more intolerable this past year, haven't you? Something's gotten into you. You think you're a hero now, don't you? Bowser certainly thinks so. Oh, he hates you now." He laughed, cold and full of spite. "He's finally seeing things my way."

I tried to keep my hands steady on this handful of a pup. I shook my head. I asked King Boo a question and he was just trying to distract me!

King Boo's scowl stayed as grim as rotting bones. "This little act of yours isn't going to work on me like it did the others. I know you, Luigi. I know what you're really like."

This isn't about me!

"Isn't it?" King Boo swiveled around me, his empty breath freezing my nostrils. "Of course, you think I did it. Of course, you are the one accusing me of theft. You just want to ruin me like you always do."

Just—Just because we had our differences in the past doesn't mean I can't suspect King Boo! I have eyewitness reports saying they saw the pot floating away in the dark!

I couldn't read his expression. Maybe a twitch of surprise? Maybe fury? Mostly disgust. "You're not that stupid. You know if I stole that worthless trash that I'd be imprisoning myself. Why would I want to do that? Let's see you answer that one, coward."

It was clear after the theft occurred that King Boo didn't know about the W.A.H.S. barrier. He didn't expect it to be able to prevent him from leaving. I remembered the way he slammed into the barrier, expecting to phase through it.

King Boo's eyes grew tighter and burned into mine. "Hm? Trying to humiliate me? And I suppose I should tell everyone how you've nearly cried yourself to sleep every night here? How about that?"

! How… Er… how did…?

He smiled, but it was so full of malice and hate, it didn't even feel like the right word. "You have no friends, loser." He floated backwards into the graveyard fog and suddenly screamed, "VIVI! Get down here!"

Like she was always here, Vivian appeared in the dark gloom, head held low.

Vivian! Oh, how I missed her!

She didn't say anything. She didn't respond to me.

"You told me about that little fun fact, didn't you, Vivi?" King Boo laughed, floating like an imp over her timid shadow.

"I—I did." Vivian said, her voice tiny and full of shame. "I'm sorry, Luigi."

This infuriated King Boo. "DON'T APOLOGIZE, BOY." She winced not at his booming voice, but at his words. "You were meant to follow that fool, Luigi. You were meant to keep him away from me. I'm willing to overlook your mistakes." He shot his glare back at me. "Do you have Hellen Gravely in that stupid vacuum of yours?"

I loosened my grip around the Polterpup, prepared to reach for the nozzle. I shook my head.

"So, she just let you waltz in." King Boo hissed. "Of course she did. She has no sense. Much like Vivi here."

Vivian said nothing, arms limp at her side. I'd never seen her like this before, but it seemed as if she was used to this kind of cruelty. Something inside me boiled.

Vivian's name is Vivian and she should be treated with respect!

I took a step forward, determined to keep up my line of questioning. None of this is relevant, anyway! King Boo was deflecting, trying to infuriate us! The point is, King Boo had the means necessary to steal it, he had the opportunity to do it, the perfect place to hide it, and he had the motive!

So what if King Boo was locked in with us, too?! He could wait it out! He wouldn't just be killing two birds with one stone; he'd be killing a whole flock! And all he had to do was wait until we ran out of food! He'd get revenge on Wario, get revenge on me, and Bowser would be out of the way as the city's number 1 bad guy! Not to mention he'd get to enjoy our humiliating slow deaths!

That finally got his attention. King Boo's smirk twisted into another scowl. Scowls were unnatural for Boos, but so natural for him. "And if I say you're completely wrong?" He shook his head. "Not that I don't mind watching you all lose your minds and starve. You do deserve it. I'd personally prefer to turn you all into paintings, though."

I didn't believe he was up to anything good regardless. If he was totally innocent, then he should come up top with me and let the girls ask him a few questions and let Professor E. Gadd examine him. Not to mention he should open this hotel and let everyone examine the place as well. And he should let the rest of the ghosts free!

King Boo stared at me. "You're serious."

I said nothing else.

"You're actually serious." King Boo floated towards me, threatening to swallow me whole. "You think I'm going to do all that for you? When you're dead wrong?"

Why not? If he was as innocent as he said he was, why would it matter?

"No. Absolutely not," King Boo hissed. "I don't have any reason to talk to those useless girls and I don't need you meat bags tainting my hotel more than you already have. I didn't steal that artifact. That is that. Now GET OUT before I make you! And be happy I don't do anything worse to you."

I set the Polterpup down. Luckily the puppy was smart enough to realize something wasn't right. He scampered behind me, but his tail still wagged. I didn't leave.

"Let me guess, I either come quietly or you make me, huh?" King Boo's rage alone seemed to make him grow twice his size. "You infuriate me. You're only a coward when it suits you, aren't you? Well, fine, if this is how you want things to go, then you leave me no choice but to admit to it."

I blinked. Really? He admitted to being the thief!?

He smirked. "No, you're still dead wrong on that. But I know who the actual thief is." He floated to the side, revealing the poor tiny shadow that was Vivian. "Him. Vivi stole it."

Vivian's slumped form finally shot up. She looked at him, then at me, then back at him. "W-what? But…"

King Boo let out a deep sigh that would wake the dead. "I told him to cause some trouble around the hotel, to humiliate Wario and you for making a fool out of me. I didn't know that Vivi planned to steal the pot. I didn't want to upset my poor Vivi in front of you, since I know the two of you are such good friends."

Vivian clenched her hands but then firmly fell back into her slump. She didn't say anything. The worst part was that I couldn't be sure if King Boo was lying or not.

"Yes, that's right. Vivi would do anything to make himself a woman. Isn't that always the case for people like them? It's sad, but that's just the truth. Isn't it, Vivi?"

Vivian didn't speak, didn't move.

"Oh, Vivi, clamming up again, hm? Now certainly isn't the time. You're so close to getting everything you want. It'd be awful if you lost it all here. I can almost see your new name now. Vivian. Wouldn't that be nice? It really rolls off the tongue, doesn't it? Then no one could question what you really are. Not even me!"

Vivian flinched at the use of her actual name. It must have been the first time he called her by it. Something broke inside her, her shadowy form appeared even more malleable. She was about to speak.

"Come on now, hurry up! Admit to stealing the pot already, boy! I've done something kind for you by even speaking that fake name of yours!"

Vivian's hands clenched into fists. "No! No! I won't! I didn't steal it! I won't be your scapegoat! I won't be your punching bag anymore! Call me whatever you like, I don't need your approval!"

And just like all those horrid people in power, King Boo couldn't believe she would oppose him. "What did you say? I'll have you know—I know where your sisters are, and I'm sure they're desperate to find their lost sibling."

"Hmph! Go ahead! I've dealt with my dreadful sister plenty and she's worse than you'll ever be!" Vivian's fists burned with blazing fires, destroying the chilling fog surrounding us. "You're nothing but a shallow pathetic little man! You have everything anyone could ever want, but it will never fill the selfish void where your soul should be!" Vivian sunk into the ground and appeared at my side, the warmth of her flames soothing me.

"This is what all you people are like!" King Boo grit his fangs together, his eyes glowing so hot with hate. "You're all so desperate for a boogeyman! You think I'm the one causing your problems?! If you just did what you were told, there wouldn't BE any problems! You're all screwed up in the head and taking it out on ME!"

"Shut up!" Vivian shouted, bristling with power. Goodness, even I felt my blood pumping from her words. "You don't care about anyone but yourself! Your morals are as rotten and decrepit as your crown! I wish I could say you're the boogeyman, but there are so many people like you! So many of these 'boogeyman' no matter where you go! You're all a dime a dozen! Well, I won't keep staying silent for people like you! I know there are others like me out there in the world now, and I know that they don't deserve to be treated this way!"

"You both don't know what you're talking about!" King Boo shouted, clearly at his limit. "I'll give you one last chance! Go back! Leave me alone! I didn't steal that artifact! Make your choice!"

Vivian looked at me, proud of herself, but still needing support. "We should capture him, Luigi! He's a despicable monster!"

"Don't listen to that LIAR! You already know you can't trust that one!"

"Come on, Luigi!"

No, no, I… I'm no good at choices! This is… this is a big choice too! This is a choice that will impact the world! Not just the world… the world of the dead, too!

I shouldn't be making those choices, should I? I don't know anything! I don't even know if King Boo is really the criminal or not. I can't just say 'okey-dokey' to this like I used to! I can't just say 'no thank you!' Saying nothing, doing nothing, that's a choice too!

I just wanted to ask a few questions!

No matter what I do, I'm making a choice right now. No matter what I do, I'm affecting the life (or death) of someone else. I've never wanted this kind of control! Yet, here it is, thrust into my hands. This is what happens when you leave your room, this is what happens when you try to do something. You'll always affect the world somehow.

So…

I might as well try to make the best choice I possibly can. I don't know what the right decision is, that's never something that's come easy to me. But this is the best I can do. I just hope that's enough.

I pulled out my vacuum nozzle and pointed it at King Boo.

King Boo shook with fury. "I gave you the chance to make the right choice, to make amends for all the times you've done me wrong, and THIS is what you choose?!"

King Boo went on, "This is what ALWAYS happens! You all talk big and act so self-righteous when you're all just as selfish as I am!" King Boo laughed. "Why don't we just get this over with then, huh? I've been thinking my office needs a few new paintings!"

King Boo melted into the darkness, his raspy laughter surrounding us. I didn't want this to happen! I didn't want to fight! I just—I just wanted to help! My chest was heaving. I could barely breathe, could barely think. Where did he go?! No matter where I looked, his laughter seemed to be right behind me, and I—I couldn't…!

Vivian's warm hands touched my shoulder, bringing me back into reality. I wasn't alone. Even the Polterpup yipped at my side, his bright red collar caught against the gray.

"This time I won't give you any bombs or any spike balls to fire back against me!" King Boo cackled, diving towards me from the darkness, his furious wraith form fading in and out of reality. I could barely do anything but trip over myself to just avoid his sharp fangs. "Good luck finding an opening when I don't give you any!"

With another gleeful tackle filled with vicious intent, he charged at me, laughing all the way, his bloated blue tongue spiraling out like an elongated arm. In the next instant, Vivian appeared before me. Without any showiness, without any mercy, she socked the king right in the jaw, flames licking at his pale white form.

"I said shut up!" Vivian shouted, her bruised knuckles billowing with orange flame.

King Boo tumbled to the ground like a pillow, stunned that anyone would dare touch him (Also by the punch). I took this chance to vacuum him up by that gross tongue of his, but like always, King Boo was stubborn and wouldn't give up that easy. He struggled and screamed and cursed as I swung him around the dreary office. Vivian cheered as I slammed him into the polished floorboards over and over, dust and spittle exploding with each pound.

But he wasn't done yet. Drool made his tongue slick, and he slipped out of one of my tosses and vanished back into the grey.

"Of course! Of course the one time I decide to give you an attack pattern that doesn't leave me vulnerable, you just so happen to have somebody with you that can make me vulnerable, don't you!? You are so lucky, aren't you, Luigi!? It always works out for you! It always does! I don't just hate you; I LOATHE you, Luigi! You ruin everything! You and you alone! Every time! There's no one else in this whole world that can truly beat me, yet somehow, here you are again!"

The chill fog from before slowly turned into charged black clouds above us. In the next moment, King Boo was visible again, the gem in his crown glowing like a volcano as his eyes radiated pure resentment. The clouds brought forth furious lightning down upon us, lashing out at complete random, striking everyone and everything it could. Pots crumbled and turned to ash, lamps exploded, and small fires ate the floorboards.

I don't know what it is when situations like this happen. I sometimes think I have a cowardly sixth sense that allows me to see safe spots to hide in. His attacks appeared like a grid to me, telegraphed where they would land. I shrieked and clambered between lightning strikes, somehow managing to dodge the weather itself.

Why is it that the meanest people always have lightning powers!?

The problem King Boo had was that attacking meant becoming visible. And becoming visible meant Vivian's fists were able to find a target. It wasn't long before King Boo received a flaming uppercut, throwing him across the room like a fluffy plush doll. I followed up with another series of Poltergust slams, starting to really feel confident in myself.

Hm. I should give this move a name! Maybe the Green Demon Slam! Or… wait, no I was trying to get rid of that title.

"This is ridiculous!" King Boo screamed, barely managing to slip out of my grip, burn marks singing his pale essence and dust coating his tongue. "You think you'll get away with this?! You think people will let this stand?! I'm the KING of the DEAD!" He tried to escape through the wall to the next room over, but Vivian caught him by his tail. "Hellen! HELLEN! I KNOW you can hear me, woman! Help me RIGHT now! I am your KING! Obey me!"

Vivian silenced his whining with a stunning suplex that sent wooden splinters flying, a crater in the floorboards here he landed. King Boo's red eyes swirled, dark moons spinning around his head. Oh, but Vivian wasn't done there. She grew taller, far above him, her fists crackling like a meteor. She put both her hands together and slammed down on him with a force I've never seen!

WHAM!

King Boo deflated like a squeak toy and let out a burst of air like one too. I clapped at the showmanship. Oh right! I also remembered to finish him off with my Poltergust. With King Boo knocked out, it was clear he wouldn't be breaking out this time. With a pleasant Whirr! I grabbed his tongue and he slowly, finally, began his descent into dusty defeat.

Before King Boo puffed into defeated smoke—as my vacuum sucked him in by the tongue, his tired red eyes exploded open again. Closer. Closer. Like splotches of pure rage smashed onto a painting. Closer still, until his eyes were all I could see, until his hatred was all I felt.

"Before I go," King Boo somehow said, even though his tongue was stuck. "I'm going to take a little time to have a chat with you, Luigi."

…

Time seemed to freeze, as if the world vanished and turned into nothing but a dusty fog. It was similar to what happened with JamBoolaya. King Boo was free, but I felt it was only in a sense, only for a moment. But the moment lasted too long.

"You."

He swirled around me. I couldn't move. I was trapped in a nightmare for the time being.

"You've ruined my entire death multiple times. And now to top it all off, you betray what little trust I had left of you." His voice was low, a whisper in the midnight breeze, a creak in an abandoned home. His voice was a constant scratching against wood, a twig snapping in a dark forest, a slamming door in the middle of the night. "I won't forget this. I won't. You'll pay."

His eyes gleamed into mine, bled into mine. "But how do I make you suffer more than you already do, hm? How do I take away from you when you've already lost everything? A Mario brother without a brother, pah! You're already so pathetic. Even your friends hate you already! All you do is push and shove and keep everyone away and leave yourself alone like the loser you are."

I…

"I'll enjoy finding a way to make you even more miserable." He laughed and he laughed, and his laughs circled around my head, twisted into my ears, and burrowed deep inside like a parasite.

"When you wake in the night," King Boo went on, his form flittering through my ribs, freezing into my stomach. "And you think you hear a noise… when you look into the dark and you see something skittering… You'll try to tell yourself, 'It was just my imagination. It was just my overactive anxiety.'"

"Well, it won't be your broken mind for once. It will be ME." King Boo's voice detonated in my mind like a gong. "And every night you lay awake, and every night you swear the shadows are alive, you'll remember what you did to me and you'll know what I am going to do to you."

"Do you think I don't have patience, boy?! I'll let the creeping loneliness take you, the paranoia, the anguish, the despair of every day leading to NOTHING." His voice went normal once the beating of his howl slowed. "Or maybe I'll simply grow bored and trap you in a painting when you least expect it."

He laughed, he laughed but his rage remained, burning, crackling. "And you know better, don't you? You know that even when you die, and you WILL eventually, it won't be the end. Oh, not from me. You'll find death will be much worse when I rule you. Every single moment of eternity, I will control you, I will make you suffer."

"So, enjoy your little victory. Enjoy it! Go on." The sound of clapping reached my ears, but it felt more like a million hands slamming against the walls. "It will be the last thing you ever enjoy until time itself dies. For I will be there until the end, making you as miserable as you have made me."

…

And just like that, King Boo's red eyes finally vanished as my vacuumed devoured him whole.

Sputter! His gemmed crown clanked onto the wooden floorboards, burning spitefully even with him gone.

"We did it!" Vivian cheered, hugging me, and—and kissing me on the cheek!? It felt as cold as the void but as warm as cozy soup. "Hehe, sorry. Got a little excited." The Polterpup yipped and followed Vivian's example, licking my face all over with chilly ectoplasm.

Did—did nobody else see what just happened to me though?

Vivian tilted her reddened cheeks to the side. "Huh? See what? The way we defeated King Boo?"

No, no, when… When I was sucking him up, he made a big, long speech and I felt so—so cold—like he wasn't really trapped and…

"Um… I'm sorry, Luigi. I didn't see any of that." She held her bruised hands behind her back. "Not that I don't believe you."

I shook my head. Vivian was sweet for humoring me, but it was best I tried to forget what I just saw. I had the creeping feeling I never would though.

She smiled, cheerful and full of positive energy. She was more energetic than I'd ever seen! "Don't worry, Luigi! I've got your back just like you had mine! Now let's look for that Pot of Luxeville while we're here!"

The Polterpup took the command literally and began rifling through everything he could find. Mostly he just went through walls and came back with random objects, sticks, plastic balls, socks, etc.

But wait! Does that mean King Boo really was the thief?!

Vivian was already shuffling through King Boo's desk, tossing his prized gems over her shoulder like thousand-year-old fish. "Oh! I don't actually know," she admitted. "If he was the thief, he certainly didn't tell me about any plan."

I gulped. I was feeling less and less confident about my hunch. King Boo's crown appeared to burn even hotter. There was no point in dwelling on that now.

I opened a cabinet and let out the obligatory shriek as one of his Boo-in-the-Box traps scared me half to death. Inside, I found a bunch of spikey unused traps, a doodle of me with stink lines on it, a picture of me with knife holes piercing it, a picture of me with bullet holes, a picture of me—

You know what, I think I'll just stop describing the contents of that. The Pot of Luxeville wasn't in there.

"I, um, I know it's probably hard to trust me," Vivian said sheepishly, checking under the floorboards and tossing out a dartboard with my face on it. "Especially after what King Boo said…"

The crying myself to sleep every night thing? It wasn't true! I only did that once! … Maybe twice…

"I know! I'm sorry," she said, casually throwing out a punching bag with my face on it. "He was just so insistent that I 'get dirt' on you, and he kept asking me and asking me, so I… I exaggerated a little. I thought it would be harmless."

I tossed aside an approved script for ghost TV that was titled 'Detective King Boo and his Stupid-Ugly-Idiot-Sidekick: Luigi!' I told her it was okay. I didn't mind that much. Compared to what I was seeing in this room, what Vivian did was nothing.

"And I never told you about the ghost hotel underneath," she sighed, tossing a headless green voodoo doll into the pile of junk in the middle of the room. "I'm sorry. After what happened with Bowser, I was sure King Boo would hurt you too. And King Boo ordered me to keep it a secret anyway."

The Polterpup handed me a bone that he had found and looked at me expectantly. I threw it across the room for him.

I assured Vivian that it was okay. I didn't blame her for anything.

Somehow, that answer didn't seem good enough for her. Vivian said, "If it makes us even, I'll tell you that I cry a lot, too! You can tell anyone you want that!"

That both didn't surprise me or make me feel better. I didn't want to be made 'even' with Vivian. I just wanted to be friends.

"R-really? You still want to be friends?" Vivian asked, her poofy hair bouncing with excitement. "Even after I ran off and abandoned you?"

Of course! You had your reasons. I'm sorry about what I said at the cellar.

"No! No, it wasn't your fault." She looked down at the floor. "I have such a hard time trusting people, but I want to trust them so much it hurts." She fell silent for a time. "I also… I shouldn't have spied on Goombella's private conversation. Of course I was going to find something to upset me if I went looking for it like that. It wasn't the right way to do things."

You don't need to apologize or justify yourself to me, Vivian. I'm just glad you're here again.

"That's such a relief!" Vivian let out a dark sigh. "Considering I beat up the only person who could change my ID after I betrayed your trust, I thought for sure I was losing everything."

An alluring voice drifted through the office, "I wouldn't say that my girl."

Hellen Gravely hovered over the burning crown, the last remnants of her boyfriend. She held the crown in her hands, noting the way it seemed to scream at her. She smiled with teeth.

"Ms. Gravely!" Vivian said, dropping a ship-in-a-bottle with a little Luigi walking the plank in it. She readied her fists and I followed suit, a hand at my nozzle.

"Relax, relax." Gravely said with a laugh, twirling the crown on her long finger. "I'm not here to fight."

"But we just—er—removed your boyfriend," Vivian said.

"It seems that way doesn't it?" Gravely said cheerfully. "And believe me, I am very distraught by his absence. However, I don't appear to have any proof that you two did anything." I noted that the Polterpup was playfully chewing on one of King Boo's notepads. I tried to wipe the King's ectoplasm off my overalls. "Even if I did, it wouldn't be very wise of me to try and stop you, would it?"

She made it sound like we were assassins! Oh, this is not helping with the Green Demon reputation at all.

"Besides, with him out of the way…" Gravely floated between us like a waking dream. She sat down in King Boo's desk and fit the crown atop her mountain of hair. "I think you'll find things will go a lot smoother." She pulled something small and rectangular out.

Gravely tossed it at Vivian and the flames quickly died out of her hands as she caught it. "This is…"

"Your updated ID Miss Vivian." Gravely smiled. "Now everyone, living or dead, has to recognize you for the woman you truly are. Even your sister. If she still bothers you, she'll have to take it up with the new Queen." She leaned her elbows on King Boo's desk, knocking over a picture of him as she did so. "Us girls have to stick together, don't we?"

Vivian very nearly hugged the little piece of ghost plastic. "It was ready all along?"

Gravely nodded. "Yes. King Boo was holding onto it. You know how he is. A mischievous boar who uses everyone around him." A strand of her hair strung out like a broken guitar string. She quickly fixed it and returned to smiling.

But I thought…

"Oh, Miss Gravely!" Vivian said. "Thank you so much! You have no idea what this means to me!"

"And that's not all," Gravely went on. She pulled out a sack with a gold coin on its center. It tinkled as she tossed it to Vivian. "Wouldn't you know it? It seems King Boo found your stolen money."

"What? But I thought a random Bandit took it." Vivian held her money in one hand and her ID in the other, nearly rendered speechless at what appeared to be common decency towards her.

"A hired Bandit," Gravely said easily—knowingly. Too knowingly. "I checked the records. King Boo hired one to target you specifically."

Vivian shook her head. "I don't understand. King Boo did all that just to get me to work for him? Why?"

"You underestimate yourself, you lovely girl," Gravely said, knowing just the thing to say to make Vivian fall under her spell. "Who wouldn't want the daughter of the Shadow Queen at their side?"

That made sense. A lot of sense. Too much sense. Gravely hid nothing, including her motives. But would Vivian be able to see them? Would she even care? It wasn't my place to tell her what to do, it wasn't my decision to make. Vivian had fought hard to be able to make decisions for herself.

Vivian changed the subject, seemingly satisfied. "I still have some questions, then!"

"Go ahead, dear. I plan on being much easier to talk to than King Boo."

She tried to act tough, but it was clear that Vivian was still giddy with excitement. "The Pot of Luxeville! Did King Boo steal it? Do you know where it is?"

Gravely smiled. "No," she said instantly, easily. I'd wager she even said it honestly. "King Boo didn't take it, that I can guarantee. He's not one to keep quiet about his 'genius' plans, and I never once heard of any plot like that. In fact, he was quite angry that he had to be cooped up here much like the rest of us. I'd say this is karmic justice."

Vivian didn't hide her disappointment.

"King Boo, believe it or not, had actually been searching frantically for the pot all throughout both hotels," Gravely went on. Now here was some information! "He told me quite often how angry it made him that he couldn't find it as he searched it from every nook and cranny!"

What? But how can that be? It almost sounded like the Pot of Luxeville wasn't even in the vicinity anymore! But that was impossible, wasn't it?

"It does sound like that, doesn't it, Luigi?" Gravely said, and the way she said my name oozed with sweetness, so much so, that it frightened me. "However… I think you'll be very pleased to know that there was one place he couldn't check."

How could that be?

"There is somewhere—," Hellen Gravely said, "—between these two hotels that no one can access, living or dead. A strong barrier protects it, much like the one that keeps us all trapped inside."

Really?! Where? How do we find this place?!

"That I can't help you with unfortunately," Gravely said, shaking her head. "King Boo was never very keen on giving me helpful information, only endlessly complaining."

Vivian put a hand to her chin. "I think I've sensed this room before, too. When I was searching for the pot, there was a couple times that I've tried to drop down and just… couldn't. I didn't understand why that happened. It must be a very small space."

Wowie! Gravely wasn't someone I could trust just yet, but Vivian certainly was! I think. Either way, this theoretical secret room was sounding more and more likely.

But that left me with another question.

Why was there a secret room built between the hotels with a mini-W.A.H.S. barrier around it? There was nowhere else in the whole hotel like this! Did Wario even know about it?

"Unlikely that Wario knows of it, but possible," Gravely said. "Even King Boo didn't know about it and he was here long before Wario. It must have been built in secret when Wario's hotel was under construction or perhaps even after it was finished."

"Hmm…" Vivian paced back and forth. "A hidden room with a barrier around it that no one can access."

How strange. If the Pot of Luxeville really is in a room that no one alive or dead can access, then… how did it get there?

"How indeed," Gravely said.

Gravely was being helpful, this much was true, but that doesn't mean she was being honest. How was I supposed to believe she wasn't the thief? She certainly had the motive and, being a ghost, certainly had the ability.

"I swear to you all that I had nothing to do with the theft of the Pot of Luxeville." Her smile faded, but only so much to show us how serious she was taking this. "I have no way to prove this, but I was swamped with work at the time. King Boo kept me so busy that I barely had a chance to scheme. It wasn't until the lockdown that I even learned what had happened."

I know this sounds crazy, but I believed her.

Gravely sighed. "I'm aware that I appear incredibly lucky with the current outcome, but believe me, if I had stolen that pot, I would give it to you and free us all from this torment now that King Boo is out of my way."

A fair point. I didn't sense the same stubborn spite from her that I did from King Boo. If she truly had the pot, she could simply hand it over to us now, couldn't she? It's not like she'd face many repercussions for having stolen it. I certainly wouldn't have released King Boo if I learned she was the true thief.

Gravely stared at herself in a hand mirror quietly. She was clearly done with us.

Vivian took the hint. "Well, Luigi, it looks like we're not going to find anything else here. What do you say we head back?"

I nodded. I was exhausted anyway. The Polterpup yipped in response, demanding pets, demanding I remembered him. Did he want to follow me? But ghosts weren't allowed upstairs…

"Don't worry," Gravely said with another eerie but generous smile. "We're under new management now. I certainly won't mind if you want to break a few rules, Luigi."

Vivian pulled out her ID again, looking at it as if it would disappear at any moment. It was still there. "Thank you, Miss Gravely. I really appreciate it. I know I was working for King Boo and all, but now that he's gone, I guess I don't need to follow his orders anymore. Plus, I have my money back thanks to you! I might not even need a job anymore!"

Hellen Gravely leaned her head onto her hands. "Oh please, don't mention it, Miss Vivian. You're a free woman now! You can do whatever you like." Her upturned lips shone under the dim lighting of the dead office. "But if you ever need a job, know that you have friends in high places. I could always use your help and I promise I will treat you much better than King Boo ever did."

Vivian smiled back, but hers was so genuine, so earnest. "Thank you very much, Miss Gravely!" She bowed. "I think I'll take you up on that offer later if you don't mind!"

"I don't mind at all, dear," she said, waving to us as we made our way to the nearest dumbwaiter. "I'll hopefully see you all sooner rather than later. Tata for now!"

It didn't take us long to find one.

The Polterpup scampered across my legs, happy as can be. Vivian, the Polterpup, and I all crammed ourselves into the dumbwaiter, but I couldn't help but imagine Hellen Gravely's terrifyingly kind smile sitting in King Boo's position with that crown the color of rage atop her head.

Did I make the right choice? Did I change the world for the better?

Or did I just put a new coat of paint on a mansion of rotting wood?