"Oh he's coming to, just like he told me he would! Oh no, but I don't have lunch prepared! Oh my, this is awful! Shh... Just stay there while I go get the kettle started, sweetie. Oh my, how could I be so rude..."

The first thing Little Mac felt was a stinging sensation in his head and face, followed by a wave of nausea. One minute he had been driving the car and the next... everything was blurry after that. Not daring to sit up, he peeked his eyes open, trying to figure out where he was.

He was lying on a red polyester antique couch in the middle of what looked to be a living room. The warm rays of the fireplace to his right were flickering on and off, creating dancing lights on identical couch opposite of him. Behind that, Little Mac could see the front door, a coat rack nailed to the wall. To his left, the window to the outside world let in dim illumination, the sun hidden by the clouds. It was peaceful outside; the clouds had stopped snowing. In the center of the living room, an oak coffee table rested humbly, two empty teacups with saucers on them. Little Danish butter cookies arranged in a semi-circle sat on a silver tray nearby, inviting him to take a bite.

"I'm sorry the place is such a mess." A voice behind him said. "Oh, I've just been so busy lately! All of the cooking that needs to get done, and oh my! My husband got me on so many bad habits!" She came around the couch, placing a pot holder on the center of the table before taking a seat across from him. "I'm so sorry! Lunch is a little late, but I promise it's simmering as we speak!"

Little Mac looked at the woman. Her face was sagging with age and exhaustion; her straight combed hair was a mixture of brown and white. Her hands, covered by long white gloves, were resting gently on her wrinkled pink and white dress; golden patterns were woven into it. The woman presented herself in a kind and polite manner, giving him a warm smile and a friendly nod. Trying to ignore his queasiness, Little Mac sat up, moving aside the blankets on top of him.

"You're awake sleepy head!" She giggled. "Oh, it's so nice to have a visitor! It's been so long..."

"Where am I?" Little Mac asked, grabbing his forehead. "And who are you?"

"Oh silly me! I forgot to introduce myself! How rude!" The woman scolded herself. Looking back at Mac, she smiled. "My name is Zelda. Welcome to our home! My husband calls it Aborigine Hill, but I told him I didn't like that name. But my Link always wins, doesn't he! Heheh!"

"My name is Little Mac." The short man introduced himself. "How did... Where are...?"

"Oh my, the storm is so quiet today!" Zelda gasped, looking out the window to the left of Mac. "My, and you braved it all the way to see me, didn't you? How kind!"

"Braved it?" Little Mac recalled the side road he had spotted earlier that night— or at least he assumed it was last night. "Oh... I guess. But how did I get here?"

"Your car crashed into my tree!" Zelda reminded him, although it didn't look like she was addressing him directly. "I ran outside to help you as fast as I could! Oh my, it was awful! Your blonde haired friend— the pretty one— was dead when I got there. Poor girl. She wasn't wearing her seatbelt and was flung out the front window. I tried to help her, but... You're lucky, Mr. Mac. Your wounds weren't that bad. Just a cracked rib. I'll have you healed up in a jiffy!"

"Peach is..." Little Mac stared at her, shocked. "She's dead?"

"The poor thing." Zelda shook her head, her eyes filled with genuine sadness. "I wish I could've been there sooner. I wish..." She looked on the verge of tears.

"But..." Little Mac was at a loss for words. Hoarsely, he asked, "What about Lucina?"

"Hmm? Oh yes, the blue-haired girl?" Zelda looked up, the pain almost instantaneously vanishing from her face. "She's hurt, but she's in no pain. She's lying around upstairs in the guest bedroom. I would've moved you up there too, to make sure you were preserved, but you were just fine. I thought the couch might be better."

"Umm... Thanks..." Little Mac wasn't really sure what that meant, but he just decided to go with it. It was clear that this old lady was confused; sometimes when she spoke her eyes would glaze over as if she was speaking to something else. "Can I check on her later? She'll probably want to hear the news from me."

"News? What news?"

"That Peach is dead."

"Hmm?" Her eyes went cross for a minute, but then they cleared. "Oh yes. When she wakes up I'll make sure you get to tell her."

She stared absentmindedly out the window, mumbling to herself about something. Taking off her gloves, she started biting her nails. Little Mac rubbed his mouth, trying to take in all this news. Stupid storm. Stupid Marth. If the millionaire hadn't have warned Lucina, Peach would still be alive! Mac was positive he could've gotten his friends home safely, but Marth had to interfere. Now his Peach was gone forever.

"Oh my!" Zelda stopped and looked at her hand. "Oh silly me! I'm biting my nails again! How rude!" Turning to Little Mac, she embarrassedly shrugged. "Bad habits, you see. Link has me full of them!"

"This... Link." He said, trying to distract himself from Peach. "Is he here?"

"Hmm?" She gazed at him with another confused expression. "My Link? Oh no. He's gone away. Far away. But he'll be back; he promised me. He'll be back." She gazed off into the distance again, biting her nails.

Little Mac winced at the sudden stab of pain in his stomach and lied back down on the couch. He was still trying to piece together last night. Something had made him swerve off the road... that boy. The Bronx boxer vaguely recalled the gray skinned boy that ran at his car last night, and the screams echoed in his head like a voice in a cavern. It was by far the most terrifying thing he had ever seen. But did he see it? Mac couldn't tell if that was just a hallucination or a memory.

"No." He mumbled to himself. "Ghosts don't exist. I was just tired, that's all. The snow was blowing too fast and it obscured my vision. It could happen to anyone." But even as he said it aloud Mac didn't believe it.

"This storm's not that bad." Zelda said suddenly. Little Mac looked up at his host, raising an eyebrow out of curiosity. "Oh my, it was how many years ago? Four? Five? Do you remember, Mr. Mac?"

"I'm sorry, I can't help you." Little Mac shook his head. "I just moved to Smash City a year ago."

"Oh, it doesn't matter." She shook her head. "It was a terrible blizzard. The wind was blowing faster than a stallion. Why, it was awful; the worst one we've ever had. We were snowed in for three weeks, and food was becoming scarce." Zelda shook her head, laughing. "My Link's a hunter, you know. He's a great archer, but an even better rifleman. He has the eyes of an eagle! He could catch a deer running top speed without batting an eyelash! He even taught me how to hunt. Mind you, I wasn't a very good shot, but I could shoot pretty well, if I may say so. And how could I forget, no hunter was complete without his trusty hunting dog! His name was George, but Link liked to call him Duck Hunt."

"I assume he took him on duck hunts?" Little Mac joked, taking a butter cookie from the tray and eating it.

"Oh yes!" Zelda smiled. "Every weekend, just by the river out back. There's a little pond in our forest that he liked to hunt in, whether it was shooting pigeons or ducks or tin cans. And every time he would bring back a huge catch to feast on! Of course, I didn't eat any of it!" She laughed, lost in her memories.

"Why not?" Little Mac asked.

"Why, I only eat vegetables!" She giggled, shaking her head. "My Link loved meat. He couldn't get enough of it! And I am the best chef this side of town, if I do say so myself!"

"And where did he go?" Little Mac cautiously pressed. "Link?"

"Oh my." The light of the fireplace started to dim, and half of her face was covered in darkness. "He was arrested for murder. He went crazy, they said. They tell me that his teeth were bright crimson when they caught him. I didn't believe them; I told them they had the wrong man. My Link would never kill anybody. Not now, not ever. But he'll be back, he promised me." The room fell silent, the crackling fire breaking the depression settling at the bottom of the room.

A high pitch whistle went off behind Little Mac, surprising the young man. "Oh, that must be the tea!" She said excitedly, clapping her hands together. "I'll go get that. You just make yourself comfortable, sweetie!" She got up and started walking towards the kitchen.

In all honesty, Little Mac liked Zelda. She was a gentle— although confused— soul who seemed to love life. It was a shame that Link went mad though, Little Mac thought. She was a good person.

The sun came out behind the clouds, and a bright light shined into Little Mac's eyes. Annoyed, he held up his hands, trying to block out the sunlight, but it didn't help much. If it wasn't for the fact that the light was directly in his eyes, he wouldn't have been bothered by it and probably would've left it alone. But now that the brilliant golden rays were hurting his head... Begrudgingly, he sat up with a moan of pain. Once he was comfortable again, he tried to stand up to close the blinds. A sudden wave of nausea came flying back in, punching him right in the stomach. Queasy, he sat back down, trying to grab hold of the spinning world.

Then he saw it. It was in the darkened corner of the room, but now that the sun was out he could see it clearly. In the corner by the fireplace, a little wadded t-shirt sat idly by a dust covered box. In bewilderment, Little Mac almost fell out of his seat.

"That's the shirt that kid was wearing!" He breathed aloud, looking at the red and yellow t-shirt in amazement. Little Mac could even see the blood stains covering the front of the t-shirt, dried and crusty like burnt cheese.

"I almost forgot the sugar!" Zelda chuckled lightly, walking back into the room with a teapot and a box of tea in her hand. "But I knew I put it out here already, so I didn't even bother searching for it, heheh! Now I've got a variety of sampler teas—"

"How did you get that?" He interjected, pointing at the t-shirt. Zelda looked confused, staring at him before following his finger to the object. Her face got dark and old, her previous joyous expression eradicated.

"Oh my. Let me get the window first." She said quietly, placing the kettle down on the hot pad before closing the blinds. The room instantly got dark, minus the light of the fireplace.

"I swear, I've seen that before." Little Mac told her. "In a dream or something."

"That... that's Lucas's shirt." She said solemnly, striding over to the shirt and picking it up. Holding it out, Little Mac could see four bullet holes in the chest, just like he remembered it.

"But... that's impossible!" He whispered to himself. "This is some kind of dream!"

"That boy was a no good trouble maker." She growled angrily. "Always picking on me and my husband. Throwing rocks at our windows, blowing out our tires, kicking our poor little old Duck Hunt Dog. The nerve of that child, humph!" She began pouring her tea, her hands shaking. "He's been missing for a number of years now. His whole family too. No one knows what happened. They just disappeared."

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened to him?" Little Mac inquired. "When he was here? I swear, I've seen that shirt somewhere."

Zelda shook her head, her eyes filling with sadness. "It was during the blizzard. Link was out for a hunt with George, and they were gone for a while. Link was getting frustrated everyday because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get a single catch. Everyday he would come home saying something about no game anywhere. Now we were getting hungrier and hungrier each day, and Link kept trying his best. I was tending the logs for the fire when Link came rushing back in the house, yelling at me to get my medical kit. Poor Lucas. Apparently he had run off from his home and gotten lost in the woods. Trying to get food, he said, to feed his family. Link had thought him to be some wild animal and shot him. My husband had to give him credit, though. It took him three bullets to put him down."

"Three shots?" Little Mac frowned. "Did you say three?"

"Yes sir." Zelda nodded. "I remember pulling out each one of them. One wound was so bad that we had to amputate his arm all the way down from the shoulder. It snapped the bone completely in half; I didn't know what else to do. Lucas screamed the whole time, yelling and fighting me. No anesthetic, you see. And don't take those movies literally, being knocked unconscious isn't as easy as it sounds and is far more dangerous than they make it out to be. But he knew we had to do it if we were going to survive.

"We put him up in the guest bedroom, the nicest place in the house. We were starting to starve; Link was getting anxious everyday. Still no game came out, and he kept yelling at me for giving our rations to Lucas. He hit me— out of love— when I gave Lucas the last of our bread. My Link was up to his neck in frustration, and I felt helpless.

"A couple of days later, he told me that he was going to take him away, which I was ecstatic for Lucas. His poor parents must have been worried sick. I know I would be if I could have children." Zelda paused, taking a sip of her tea. "It was a long time before Link came walking back in. He was smiling immensely; his grin was bigger than I've ever seen it. And in his arms he held the biggest catch I had ever seen! And I told him, 'Good deeds do pay off!' and he agreed. It was mutilated, but I had no problems cooking it. And everyday Link came walking back in with more catches, and I kept cooking them! Oh my!" She laughed, taking a sip of tea. "But I didn't have any of it; I only eat vegetables."

"What happened to Lucas?" Little Mac asked, taking a bite of a cookie. "Did he go missing shortly after Link took him home?"

"Hmm? Lucas?" Zelda went crossed-eyed. "Lucas? Oh my, he was a naughty boy! Humph! I have to tell you about him! He was not my favorite!"

"Ah..." Little Mac frowned at her suddenly memory loss. "Ma'am, you told me already."

"I did?" Zelda looked genuinely confused, as if Little Mac was speaking another language. "Oh my, I haven't thought about him in years! You must be confused, sweetie."

The grandfather clock in the living room chimed, echoing throughout the household. "Oh my, I forgot about lunch!" Zelda said, getting up. "Oh my, how could I be so careless! Let me just get that for you!" She walked away, humming some chip tune as if their conversation never happened.

Little Mac shuddered, his gaze not breaking from the t-shirt. Three shots... Three shots... But there was four shots in the shirt.

"She must have meant four shots." Little Mac decided. "She's a bit confused anyways; it's not like she's the most sane person."

Deep inside, Little Mac didn't believe that.

"Oh, lunch is ready!" She smiled, walking in with two bowls of soup in her hand. "Trust me, this soup will knock your socks off! I've been working all day. I hope you enjoy!"

"Thank you, Zelda." Little Mac gratefully accepted the bowl and set it down on the table. "You've been a gracious host."

"Oh my, why thank you." Zelda smiled politely, blushing. "I'm lucky to have such great company! Now please, enjoy yourself!" With that, she began to eat.

Little Mac stared down at his soup, darkened by the light. The smell offset him for some reason. It smelled familiar... Was that perfume he smelled? He just couldn't put his finger on it. The food nauseated him for some reason, to the point that he could barely look at it.

"Zelda..." Little Mac asked cautiously. "If you don't eat meat... how did you survive without any food? What did you eat?"

She looked up, staring at him with her hazel green eyes and a bright crimson smile. "Why, Little Mac, I only eat vegetables."

Little Mac stood up, ignoring the pain of his ribs. "No... I know that smell..."

"Mr. Mac, where are you going?" Zelda asked, standing up. "Did I forget the salt again? Oh my..."

"I... I have to go. N— Now!" Little Mac stammered, backing up cautiously. He tripped over his own feet, falling hard on his back.

"Mr. Mac, but you haven't even touched your soup!" She whimpered, pointing to his bowl. "You aren't that rude, are you?"

"I... I have to go!" Little Mac tried standing up again. Grabbing his side in pain, he started rushing towards the front door.

"The bathroom his upstairs if you need to go sweetie!" Zelda chuckled. "Just take a right!"

Upstairs... Lucina! Painfully, Little Mac turned right and started climbing up the stairwell. Each step was incredibly painful, the pain in his sides stabbing into him like icicles. The stairway seemed endless; for every step he took it felt as if two more popped up. All the while, he could hear Zelda humming to herself behind him, taking huge gulps of her soup.

"Don't be too long, sweetie!" Zelda called out. "Just you wait for dessert; you'll ravenously devour it, I promise!"

Dizziness enveloped him as Little Mac got to the top of the stairs. Stumbling around blindly, he desperately grasped at the handles of the doors, trying to find the guest bedroom in a desperate attempt to save Lucina. He felt numb, his mind and body frozen with fear and adrenaline. Randomly, he flung the doors open one by one, each of them empty.

"Little Mac? Are you okay up there? Should I come and help you?"

Little Mac didn't pay attention to her as he continued his helpless cause. Finally, he came to the room closest to the stairwell. His right leg was shaking violently. Touching the chilled door handle, he swung it open, ready to call out to Lucina and get out of there.

Instead it was Peach.

"No— No!" All around the bedroom, dismembered and mutilated body parts lay hanging from the ceiling, tied to it by tassels. Below each part was plastic Tupperware, collecting the blood that dripped from above. Against the wall, countless containers of bright red crimson swirled with pieces of flesh and bone collected inside of it. On the bed, Peach's head rested inside a huge plastic box, her skin pale gray like cement and her once beautiful blonde hair was completely snow white. Her mouth was open in a silent scream, and her eyes...

Her eyes were completely terrifyingly white. There was no sign of her pupils.

"You shouldn't have come up here." Zelda voice said behind him. Little Mac whirled around, his eyes filled with horror and shock. Zelda came walking over him, looming like a towering tree over him. In her hands was a large stainless steel kitchen knife, covered in bright crimson.

"No— No!" He pushed past her, running for the stairs. Carelessly, he tripped over his own feet and fell down the stairs like a rubber ball. When he hit the floor, he heard a loud snap in his left arm.

"AH!" He screamed, grabbing his broken limb. Zelda came walking down the stairs, doing a nonchalant "tisk tisk" as she came closer and closer.

"Oh my..." Zelda frowned, looking at the helpless man on her floor. "Your arm is fractured. This is terrible! I'm going to have to move you upstairs; this is no place for you. Let me just fix that arm for you."

"No, please—" The knife came slashing down; Little Mac's screams echoing throughout the house.

"Wait... Marth... No... NO!"

"Shh, everything's going to be alright, Mr. Mac. But what about the rest of your arm? Oh my... I'll fix that right up." The blade came down again, but it didn't stop there. The silver weapon came down again and again in a flurry of swift blows until no more screaming could be heard in the house. After she was done, Zelda started sobbing, falling to her knees.

"Link got me on so many bad habits..."

I...

Warned...

You...

A/N: Well, I'm going to cry in my room now, next to a strangely placed ladder. Speaking of which, the lights in my room still hasn't been replaced, so writing this story was as creepy as all heck. I have never done something like this, so in terms of spirit of the contest I think I nailed it. I think.

Shoutouts:

Leafshadows the Great: Seriously, without this guy, this story would've never been publish. He offered huge tips and suggestions that really got this out there and made it a thousand times better. I can't thank him enough for his suggestions and support. Also, ADC Bard five-ever.

Writers Anonymous: They really helped my get the story rolling by helping me with my biggest flaw as a writer: starting a story. These guys really helped me, and I can't thank them enough. I really appreciate their tips and reminded me that we're all writers here.

Paradigm of Writing: Thanks for hosting this contest and dealing with my barrage of late questions regarding the contest. By helping the lesser written Smashers out, you've helped the struggling minority, and we thank you for it.

I don't care if I place or not. Really, I don't. This was a fun project, and I'm glad to get it off my chest. I've always wanted to attempt something like this, and I've never been so excited in my life working on a project like this. So even if I do poorly in the contest, this story has earned a place in my heart. (Awwwwwwwwww!)

And by the way, if you're confused about anything, read it again. You might've missed the story... And if you're still confused after that, either PM me or leave a review asking. I'm curious to see your thoughts about the story, good or bad. If necessary, I'll write another chapter after the contest explaining the story.

Until then, sweet dreams...