Disclaimer: I do NOT own Fire Emblem. Neither do I own our house. The speech near the end is from the song at the beginning, if that makes any sense.
"Fear my shadow on the walls,
A phantom of despite;
The fourth dimension terror-
I am the one denied..."
-Poltergeist, Dark Fortress
He hears it before he sees anything, the faint muttering seeming to come from everywhere and bordering on the edge of inaudibility. The rough steps hewn out of the rock around have collected puddles of water and Elimine-knows-what-else, and seem to go down forever into a thick, unpleasant blackness - but he descends as fast as he can, tripping on his robes, slipping in the vile liquids and prepared to plummet to his death at any second. There are no handrails here, no precautions should he fall, but it is his duty and he must obey.
He slows a little, regains his balance fully on the slippery, worn surface. The torch he was given flickers, but holds its flame. He cannot see much around him anyway, he reflects, and continues his stumbling journey down into the depths.
The air is oppressive now, stifling. There is an unpleasant taste at the back of his mouth, forcing him to cough involuntarily. He needs to stop, or, better still, get away from this eerie place while he still can.
But he cannot - will not.
"Mother... it is my duty; I must obey."
His whisper echoes around the high walls and joins the muttering, discordant.
He heard the scream, of course, everyone had, but he was the only one in any position at all to answer it. No-one else could have gone down here, where he is, where the darkness mocks him and his fear. No-one else.
And of course it had been his last brother's scream, he knew that instinctively. Soon he would not be able to scream any more, and would join the two already upstairs.
The boy shivers, cursing again the fate that leads generations of his family to... death? No, not death - how can one describe the state? Maybe--
His foot slams against rock and he overbalances. Terror grips him; his arms flail wildly as if to find a way of cheating death, finding none.
"No!"
He hits the floor, torch dropping out of his hand and going out. A dull ache in his hands and knees, but still alive. Amazed, he reaches behind him to feel the step there.
The last step.
He wants to cry and laugh and love, all at the same time. But he cannot forget what he is duty-bound to do.
If I keep walking forwards, I should find the door, he thinks. It doesn't matter so much that the torch has gone now. Picking himself up, rubbing gingerly at grazed palms, he picks the skirts of his too-big robe up and walks off, limping slightly.
It is not much more than thirty seconds' walk before he sees light. An unnatural, sickly violet light - but illumination nonetheless, sufficient for him to see by. The door is in front of him, and the muttering louder. Much louder.
"Have you ever wondered why all this has got to be?"
Sibilant. Throbbing. His brother's voice, but changed. He pushes open the stiff door with considerable effort.
It is his duty.
"Have you ever wondered... why you shiver late at night?"
Total blackness inside once more. His heart thuds loudly in his ears. Taking a deep breath...
"Maruc! Maruc, what--"
A terrible presence in the little room pushes him back to the doorway.
"Have you ever wondered why the invisible makes you afraid?"
"Maruc, Maruc! Stop it! It's taking--"
A flash of blinding light slowly fades. Amongst the blinding afterimages, a shape. Moving. Reaching out.
"This is when our worlds collide."
The boy freezes, rigid with panic. He forgets duty, instinct telling him to run.
Instinct battles with locked muscles, and loses.
"Stop it..." he whispers fearfully. "Stop it!"
"This is when I crush your soul, Maruc!"
The shape screams again in his brother's voice. His head is thrown back in a spasm, limbs spread wide and stiffly.
"Please! Please, let me go! I beg you... argh!"
And over that familiar voice, the boy hears another.
"This is when souls can't rest at night!"
His brother is changing, the once-handsome face slackening under limp tendrils of purple hair. He looks up, and the boy can see that his eyes bulge with a thousand tiny bloodshot veins, and are devoid of humanity.
The screams stop, and the boy cannot contain a hysterical shriek that bursts from his mouth and forces echoes around the chamber. The shape is looking at him, smiling with his brother's mouth.
The lights go out.
"This is insanity incarnated!"
And the boy who prides himself on his bravery and strength of will, the boy who has never run from anything before... runs. Behind him echoes the laughter of something that has probably never understood the concept of sanity; before him only blackness.
"MUM! MUM! MUM, HELP ME! HELP MEEEEEEE!"
Into the darkness. He trips on the stairs for the second time that day. Once he runs out of words, he simply screams; a pure, drawn-out scream of absolute terror, clawing at the steps with his hands but not managing to move anywhere, kicking out wildly within cumbersome, flapping robes.
And once he runs out of breath he just lies there crying, with tears dripping down his face onto the stone, and the darkness folds down around him.
And he is alone once more.