Okay, yeah, reposted this crap so it doesn't suck quite as much. Meh. I can't quite remember how to do all that... disclaimer stuff... uh, yeah. Not mine. >

After the Outing - Chapter X

The killer gazed downward.

Blue eyes gazed back.

They did not condemn him for his actions, though he was sure they would have if it had been even only five years ahead. And he was sure those eyes did not see him, for what was he in the face of an endless blue sky? They held a blank innocence, and it took all his strength to stop his hand from gouging them out and keeping them in a box.

Her arms were spread wide, little hands limp above her head and resting daintily upon the crisp snow. A thick scarf partially hid her painfully young, lax features, and a large axe was wedged securely between her fragile rib cage. A skilled toss, the axe's wooden handle and sharp blade twirling with languid grace about it's center of gravity, had ended this little girl's life; had hit her tiny body with enough force to knock her down into the snow in which she had been playing so happily, and almost instantly cleaved her in two.

Kate. He thought, cocking his head to the side in a sharp, birdlike gesture, and dipping to his knees. A pale, elegantly tapered finger gently touched the staining pool of blood, still warm against his chilled hand. The sun seemed so uselessly pale and bright compared to the instant warmth brought from the dark oozing liquid. It was all so perfect to him, as he rubbed it between to fingers to feel it's texture and brought it to his nose to sniff like fine wine. But Kate's father didn't seem to hold the same view.

The stocky mushroom man held a shotgun. The killer processed his fact, but didn't feel threatened by it's slumped angle or the man's wide, frozen stare. The father's heavy boots sunk into in snow, and he appeared to be much too old of age to have a daughter so young.
The killer stood, long limbs unfolding and a slight smile gracing his scarred face. A course wind picked up again, teasing the tall man's clumped mane and the father's hurriedly buttoned shirt. "I once knew a man..."

The father blinked, the killer's voice loud in the white stillness, and jerked up the tip of his gun. He looked away from his daughter's body, and tried to lock on the killer's face. But he couldn't force his head to tip upward, and his jaw began to tremble.

"This man..." The killer stopped to chuckle a bit, and took one light, soundless step forward. "He use to say that not wearing a coat, such as you are..."

The father's chest heaved, and his gun slipped from nerveless fingers to fall with a soft thump into the snow.

"To feel the elements biting into you skin. Unprotected..."

"Katie..." The father's voice was gutturally low, and forced.

"He said it was the only sign that you were alive." The killer stopped in front of the father, and gazed down at his bowed head.

"My little Katie..." The words were hitched, and his blurring sight was filled with the cloth material of the killer's jacket.

"You know what I say? I say he was an idiot."

"Bastard..."

The killer dropped to his knees once more, and casually grasped the abandoned shotgun just as the father's shaking fingers went to retrieve it. The killer had to look up somewhat from that position, but it did not lessen his noticeable presence. A kind tone flavored his words. "I know I am."

The father released a sob, and made a wild grab for the barrel. The killer let him, but no amount of tugging on the father's part could move it's aim away from his chest.

"Look at me." The father only clenched his eyes tighter, tears leaking slowly down his face, and struggled more desperately. "Look at me!"

Familiar blue eyes snapped open - Kate's eyes - and settled with open pleading.

"I know I'm a bastard. But there's nothing you, or I, can do about that." The tip of the barrel was planted firmly under the father's chin, and the trigger was pulled.

The shot rang out just as loudly as Kate's startled cry had not thirty minutes ago, and the faceless body slumped flaccidly in the snow.

And from his vantage point leaning against a barren tree, Sol Stephens applauded. "Very dramatic. I didn't know an emotionless fuck like you could act."

The killer stood, and slowly turned to face him. "Hello, Captain." he said dryly.

Luigi's freshly washed hair gleamed it's glossy glow in the clear sunlight, bouncing about his ears in time with his energetic steps. Mario was tempted to tell him to slow down, take it careful, but thought better. Just being out of that oppressive room for the first time in weeks had instantly drained all the strain from his brother's normally easy going smile, and even the strange, sourceless tension between the two people he cared about most had all but disappeared.

"Mario!" Luigi caroled from ahead, lowering himself onto a thick patch of grass within the Royal Gardens. His almost healed right leg was stretched out before him, and Mario vaguely wondered if it was an intentional or subconscious act on his brother's part. "How long was I stuck in that room anyway? I lost track after... a couple of hours."

Mario laughed, claiming a small portion of the grass as his, the Princess settling close to his side. "A little over three weeks."

"That long?" Luigi whistled low, impressed. "I really tore myself up, didn't I?"

"I must say, you seem much calmer when you do your..." Sol paused, as if searching for a precise word. "...work. And polite."

The killer inclined his head the slightest fraction. "His influence."

"Ah, yes..." The mushroom captain took a step into the snow. "It's come to that already." Stuffing his hands within the pockets of his coat, Stephen wandered over to the lifeless little body with insulting casualness. "And who might this charming young lady be?"

Mario laughed again - a forced chuckle devoid of humor. "You certainly did..."

The slender murderer titled his head to the side. "K is for Kate who was struck with an axe."

"So this is K… Already. Only five more to go."

"Yes, but I..."

"Luigi, I..."

"King Koopa!"

The giant turtle shifted ponderously on his throne, lifting his head from his fist with fire snapping in his eyes. Headache exploding within his temples, foot still throbbing, Bowser's voice was dangerously low. "For your sake, and for the continual cleanliness of my throne room, I do hope thi is important. Because if it's not... Well, let's just say the cleaning koopas are going to have a hard time gathering enough parts of you off the walls to have a proper burial."

"And what is that?"

The messanger koopa gulped, but stood his ground. His King's ire frightened him wittless, but the condequences of not delievering his message frightened him even more. He really needed to get a new job; the stress of his position was making him old before his time. "Your Highness, there appears to be-" The messanger paused to take a deep, calming breath. "- a man slaughtering the koopa guards in the courtyard."

"...Me and the Princess were thinking that maybe you should take it easy."

Bowser stilled, and lifted himself out of his throne. With steps heavy but measured, the giant King strode to the nearest window and stared out, expressionless, at a massacare.

"What do you mean?"

A human wirlwind was cutting down his troops with an ease that was sickening. Wherever it touched, blood sprayed, a koopa fell. Leaping, twisting, slashing, no defense apparent, just a single-mindedness to kill anything that crossed it's path. Each move conveyed a ferociousness that Koopa couldn't help but admire. And, as the last little turtle's broken body dropped to the blood bathed cobble stone, throat ripped and an arm and leg hanging askew, the courtyard was awash with an eerie stillness formed from twenty or more dead bodies. Piercing eyes met Koopa's over the distance, along with a smile. A pang of fear twinged at Bowser, one that his mind wouldn't allow him to feel.

"That... that bloated carcuss over there! You killed another..."

The messanger koopa sighed, heavy with resignation. He knew his job. Bowing to his King's back, he quietly left the room to invite in the "guest", and most likely, his death.

By the time the lanky mushroom man had made it to the castle throne room, Bowser had settled himself on his seat of power for the appropriate first impression.

He was in charge. His kingdom.

"You're not fully healed yet."

The man dropped the mauled messanger at Koopa's feet, and gave him a prod with his toe. "You should keep this one; he's resiliant." Dark eyes meet Bowser's with a borrowed calm, a dangerous insanity boiling, barely contained, beneath the surface.

"So," Bowser wiped a bit of gore from his arm, hoping the small tremer he saw in his large hand was just a trick of the light, and using it as an excuse to break the borring stare. "Has the Mushroom Kingdom's most recent celebrity come to try and kill me as well?"

"To me, you're already dead."

"You almost died!"

"Kate was suppose to be the only one killed!"

Bowser clutched imperseptively at his throne's cold arm rest. /You're in charge, your kingdom, you're in charge.../

"As are all the others I have "killed"." The man twitched, jaw muscle jerking spastically. "I am just fullfilling that which must happen. I have already killed you before. it wasn't easy, I will give you that... but it was fun." A bubbling giggle escaped before the mirth was carefully shut closed. "But that's why I'm here to see you.

"I want to kill you again."

"What's been done, has already been done. Can't we just get over it?"

Terror once more welled, only to be crushed again. /your kindgom, you're in charge, do not fear, you're in charge, you're in charge/

The man held up a long fingered hand, as if he had seen a flash of Bowser's inner struggle through the facade. "Oh, don't worry, I can't do it. He won't let me. Truth be told, I've never done this part before. I don't believe I've ever been this calm either... Hum..." The mushroom man's gaze wanderer for a few seconds, before snapping back into an intese focus. "This one must be more mature then the others."

Through boiling emotions, Bowser's reptile mind, horribly unuse to such perplexities, tried desperately to piece together the conversation. Subliminal inklings screamed for his attention. "This one?"

The man ignored the question and instead removed the mushroom from his head, ragged hair brushing guant cheekbones as he cocked his head to the side, regarding his "hat" fondly. "I skinned this from a girl not even born yet. I've been wearing it ever since."

Bowser flinched, and something clicked. Meaningless words fell into place, and his fear drained with his recongnation. The movement, the exposed features, the potential chaotic nature...

It was apparent the man had lost tenious hold on sanity, setting his hat to the side and kneeling beside the poor, forgotten messanger, barely hanging onto life. "And him... I've never seen him before." He ran a a slender finger over the koopa's bloodless face. "You're not suppose to be here."

"The target was not the father! You've changed it!"

"How are we suppose to forget? And with the way you've been acting recently..."

"Nothing's wrong. Nothing's changed!"

It was so /obvious/...

"Oh, how easily we forget. I should know better. You of all people should know better..."

"Mario, just drop it. Please? He obviously doesn't want to talk about it."

"If he would just talk to me more. I'm his brother, damnit, I want to know..."

But why had no one else...?

"Just tell me one thing. Tell me Clara is still alive. Pleeease tell me that at least Clara is alive. You can't have fucked that up..."

"...I wish I knew what happened to Clara. I'm so worried..."

"Clara is dead."

Know thy closest enemy well, eh? Different board, same chess pieces.

"Arg! I knew it! How could you change everything?"

"...how do you know...?"

This Bowser could handle.

"You could stop this at any time."

But.. how?

"...Luigi?"

"...stop what, Luigi?"

The murderer gathered up the crumbled messanger's body and threw him over his shoulder. "We're not suppose to be here." Furrowing dark eyebrows, the man turned to address Koopa. "Something's changed." The mouth gabbed open, jaw working furiously as if to speak, but a sharp jerk of his head brought him back to the familiar grounds of dementia.

"Yes, I very well could."

"So then why don't you!"

It couldn't be possible. It was all so surreal.

"Mario..."

"I don't know, Princess..."

"Because this is how it's suppose to be..."

"Stop." Same chess pieces... Bowser could manage. "Don't leave quite yet...

"Luigi?"

"Luigi?"

"Luigi..."

"...Luigi."

A second was all it took Luigi to lunge across the room. With a bound, he was on Bowser, claws flashing to the giant turtle's face before the messanger's body thudded to the ground.

"Goddamnit! I have to kill you now." Sharp metal pressed against the leathery skin at Bowser's throat, drawing small pinpricks of blood. Luigi's hand shook. "How do you know that!"

Bowser blinked away the stars from his eyes. "Rather obvious, I would say." He grinned, spat out blood and a tooth in Luigi's face.

"I.. I have... to..." Breathless and frantic, Luigi backpeddaled. "I have to... I have to kill you. But I can't. He won't let me. It'l break the cycle..." Sweeping up the messanger, Luigi fled the room.

"I don't like this version of me." Luigi was speaking more to himself then his captured koopa. "He's making me too coherent. It's making my job harder." He paused to sling the limp koopa over the sadle of one of the horses in the castle's stable, stepping over the dead stablemaster in the process. "You; what's your name?"

The koopa blinked fearfully, and kept silent.

"Well?"

"..Grobb." His voice cracked painfully half way through, breaking his name into two syllables.

"What an unfortunate name, Grobb. Have I killed your family yet Grobb?"

More exhausted then he could ever remember, tired brain barely able to keep up with this sudden change of topic, Grobb could only tell the truth. "No." He coughed, flecks of blood splattering his face. "I don't think so."

"Then we'll have to do that before we leave... since I'm not allowed to kill you. You're not suppose to be here..." Luigi cocked his head, eyes bright. "I don't think you can be killed."

Bowser sat up carefully, stretching through the pain and spitting out more blood. Gengerly touching his already swollen jaw, the Koopa King stared blankly at the wall in front of him.

"...What is going on!" He growled, fangs flashing. "Well... shit. I liked this situation a lot better when it wasn't so fucked up."