Groose, Link, Ghirahim, and Cheeb walked into the hollow chambers of the Water Dragon's hall. The reflections of light danced across the ceiling, but something was amiss. Groose knew this as soon as he entered the Water Dragon's main chamber. The water was diluted with red, what appeared to be a bloody mess.

"Oh my Goddess you bastards killed her didn't you!" Groose screamed, reaching into the water and yanking out their Parella guide. He throttled the poor Parella back and forth.

"No, you idiot, I'm not dead. Some asswipe poured Kool-Aid into Lake Floria, and the shit's been gunking up the water system all day. What do you 'heroes' want?"

"Hi Miss Water Dragon!" Cheeb waved at the Water Dragon.

"Oh Goddess Farore, what the hell is that thing doing in here?" The Water Dragon looked closely upon the tiny Kikwi. "I think you're the first one of your kind to set foot in this place. What do you wish from me?"

"We need to know what's in the middle of those woods over there!"

"Over where? We're surrounded by woods on all si- wait, did you just ask me an intelligent question?"

"I think so."

The Water Dragon squealed with glee, and swooped up Cheeb from out of the water. "You're… You're not high! You're not high! How can this be?"

"Uh… I don't know. Am I supposed to be?"

"I'm a success!" the Water Dragon screeched, setting the Kikwi back down. "Any thing you or your friends need, you just tell me, and I'll grant you your desire."

Ghirahim stepped forth from Groose and Link, patting Cheeb on the head. "Well, Miss Water Dragon, we're searching out pieces of the Triforce of Wisdom. I believe I've found one in the middle of the woods, but it's in pretty deep. Can you give us any insight into where it could be?

The Water Dragon sighed. "Well, if you truly need to know, there is something in the woods. Back in the days of yore, even before me, two cisterns were built as houses of worship to the Goddess Farore. One of them is, er, was known as the Ancient Cistern. But as you know, that collapsed on itself. There was another that was made before it, however. It was identical in every sense of appearance, and served the same purpose."

"Really?" Link asked, "Why did the cistern stop being used?"

"Well, for one, it was a pretty damn long commute. But more importantly, a dark power washed over the ministry leader. The grounds became a monument for the dead, and people began to slowly leave this place for the other cistern. The ministry leader became corrupted in himself, and none have been to the place since."

"Well, I guess we'll head there next, it seems to be coming from around that area." Link said.

"Good luck to the three of you!" The Water Dragon smiled and dove back into the water.

As the three began walking out, Link stopped in his tracks. "Wait… three?"

Groose slammed the Parella against the side of the cave wall, the water rippling around him.

"Now, you're going to tell me, and I don't want any bullshit." Groose said in a husky voice. "Where is the Water Dragon's body?"

"I didn't kill her, you numbskull!" the Parella wheezed out.

"You shut your mouth!" Groose slapped the Parella, and adjusted the detective's fedora that sat atop his pompadour. "I've played Clue, I know the rules, now show me the cards!"

"You're insane! She's alive!"

"Do I look stupid to you?" Groose brought his face closer to the Parella's. "I know it was you, I found the lead pipe, I saw the secret staircase, the facts align. You're guilty!"

"Groose, come on, we're leaving." Link screamed across the empty room.

Groose let the Parella fall to the ground, and simply pointed. "You win this round… but don't think I won't be back."

"Groose. Now."

"Fine, geez." Groose rejoined the group, now ready to travel to the deep woods of Faron.

"I'm sorry Ridley, but you're just too freaking big to be an antagonist in this story. Next!"

Demise sat at a desk in his dark realm, playing with a Newton's Cradle. These pitiful heroes actually had a slight chance of stopping him, and he didn't like it one bit… He had decided that the best way to handle to situation would be to hire someone else to kill them on the spot.

Demise grew impatient. "I said next!" he screamed, slamming his fist down on the desk.

A dark, slender figure approached the lord of all demons. He was bathed in a cloak of midnight, and a pure white, emotionless mask covered his face. The man dragged his robes behind him, a dark presence filling the air as he approached the desk.

"Oh great, it's the Phantom of the Opera."

The dark figure said, in a calm, yet unsettling voice, "I can leave. The door's right over there."

Demise looked at the cardboard cut-out door he had propped up. People might not take this seriously if the place didn't look like an office, now would they?

Refocusing his attention on the strange man, he began to ask him a series of questions, all met to satisfactory answers. Demise got up and shook the man's hand. "Just one last thing," he asked, "where the hell did you come from?"

"…That's of no concern to you." he muttered. He swept his cloak over his face with a quick gesture, and was whisked off in a blur of black.

"Great…" Demise muttered to himself. "Just what I needed. Another flashy henchman."