Chapter two! Slightly more interesting. There be gore at the end, but not much. I'm not in my masochistical place right now.
Some thank-yous for my reviews on the first chapter. I honestly didn't expect any since I don't get many to begin with. Thanks to Author-Dude for liking my start, 'twas very kind of you to leave a review on such an insignificant chapter. Thanks to Moiras for her kind review and I'm very glad that you enjoy my plot! Like I said, I really hope you continue your own story with part two. I'm continuing with my part two and finishing with part three regardless of the story's popularity. It'd just bother me if I didn't finish it. And of course my biggest thank you to Thais! You've been a really nice friend ever since I've met you and I really hope you enjoy this story, 'cause I do believe I should dedicate "Titleless" to the friend whose encouragement has kept me writing: you!
On with the chapter.
Once he was sure that Marth was going to be okay, Roy left his friend in their room and suited up for the morning Melees. Although Marth was unable to battle anymore, Roy was still an able-bodied warrior. He had argued with Marth over the issue for the past several weeks, but the disabled swordsman was firm. "There isn't any reason why you shouldn't be out there fighting," Marth explained. "That's what you came here to do and that's what I want to see you doing. Now go!" Marth's stern words echoed in Roy's head as he trudged down the hall towards the infamous waiting room.
Someone had jokingly taped a paper sign on the door that read "Hell's Waiting Room" and this sign had never been taken down. In reality, that's just what it was. The grim humor of this appellation failed to draw the usual determined smirk across Roy's lips as he pushed the heavy door open. Inside the waiting room sat the few warriors who hadn't yet claimed a field: Bowser, Captain Falcon, Donkey Kong, and Pichu.
"You can't be on a team battle against us, Pichu, you're just to small!" Donkey Kong was struggling to reason with the obstinate little rat who was screeching and pleading to be allowed to fight against them. Bowser growled in annoyance. "It would hardly be a challenge. I've eaten apples bigger than you, Pokemon! Now sit down before I give you something to cry about." In response to the threat, the dejected little Pokemon wiped away his tears as he waddled back to his seat.
"Now, this!" A grinning Captain Falcon limped over to Roy and put an arm around his shoulders. "This is a challenge for us, boys!" Roy cringed at the racer's touch and shrank away from him. "Me on all three of you at once? I don't know guys, I haven't been out there in weeks." "Aw, come on!" Donkey Kong was on Roy's other side to block his retreat, grinning up to him with all his rounded teeth. "We need someone to squash out there and you're the perfect candidate! Everyone else, even the doctor, is already out there." Roy opened his mouth to argue but Bowser cut in, pulling him toward the entrance to the Final Destination stage. "Come on, I know you want to! What do you say?" The young swordsman sighed in defeat as he looked to the three eager warriors around him – and to the whimpering Pokemon sitting by the TV.
"All right, all right! I'll do it."
--
The match was pretty much over before it even started. Roy was an excellent warrior but he stood little chance against two heavyweights and one speed demon, especially since he was out of practice. Five grueling minutes later, the three victors and their victim were transported to the deserted infirmary. They patted Roy on the back and congratulated him on a match well-fought. Roy nodded to their compliments and, after they left, he dragged himself to an infirmary bed to await the arrival of the good doctor. He had a few cuts to be mended.
Roy's tired lavender eyes were fixed on the field monitors in the infirmary. The volume was turned low, but he could barely discern some of the pained grunts of his friends. The swordsman sighed as he turned his tired gaze away. It was all pointless to him now. All these meaningless battles were just disgusting. These creatures that had been bred and brainwashed to fight and kill now had no more meaning to their existences because their adventures had long since ended. Instead of attempting to lead normal lives, they rather mercilessly slaughter each other, all for fun. It was repulsive. It was despicable. It was wrong. It was…
Roy's thoughts were interrupted when he felt something wet dripping on his head. He sighed and reached up to brush the damp feeling away. He sat in silence as a second and a third drip landed in his hair. "Someone really needs to fix these leaky ceilings!" It was starting to annoy him and he vigorously rubbed the cold feeling out of his hair. He pulled back his hand to idly examine it, and he froze when he found thick red fluid smeared over his palm.
Roy remained very calm as he slowly lifted his eyes toward the ceiling. He was so desensitized to violence by now that he wasn't even shocked by the scene that met his gaze. He couldn't tell who or what it had once been, but there was a small dead body pinned to the ceiling with surgical scissors and scalpels. To him, it looked like the little body had been turned inside out. All he could discern from the mess was bones and innards and the bloody underside of a pelt of yellow fur. The body was intact, miraculously, as though someone had merely reached down the creature's throat and pulled its legs out of its mouth. There was just one thing missing on the little corpse:
A right hand.
Ooh, mysterious! You think you know who did it, but remember: you never know what kinda tricks the author is gonna pull. Review to help heal my battered ego.