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Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Mario or its franchise; it belongs to Nintendo and their affiliates. I just am really grateful to its creators for giving me such a wonderful game and media series to write about!

Chapter Sixteen

I figured out why this shit is haunting me. I can't keep ignoring these feelings, they're gonna' consume me and make me do something stupid. Yes, the infamous king who'd hurt Daisy is dead, but he wasn't the only one at fault. The more I thought on what she'd told me, the more I blamed Ludwig for. Well, everything. Part of me knew that wasn't totally his fault, everything that had happened, and that part also knew that I was mostly blaming him because there was no Dark King to attribute the emotion towards. However, another part of me wasn't moved in the least, even after all this time. I was starting to resent Ludwig. Hate him. Hate the way he carried himself like some kind of savior, even making me feel sort of indebted to him at one point, when in reality he was just using me and Daisy to bring about his own selfish goals. He was deceitful and arrogant and the fact that he was a kid didn't let him off the hook at all. He may only be nineteen or twenty, but he had the intellect of someone years older. He knew exactly what he was doing all that time.

What purpose is thinking about all this serving me, I wondered idly. There was no use trying to get my mind onto other subjects though, it would just steer itself back over to this harrowing line of thought. That was what I meant when I said I knew why this was the case; there's feelings boiling within me, feelings that were dormant all along without the knowledge of Daisy's abuse, so with that knowledge came the utter destruction of whatever barrier was holding those emotions at bay. Now I was stuck lingering on them and it was making me homicidal.

There was no end to the things I wanted to do to that blue-haired liar once I got my hands on him. I couldn't get over the fact that he basically played us all, me and Daisy and Mario and everyone else who was stupid or unfortunate enough to have been involved. He wanted to end the Dark King and he didn't care who went down along the way. The boy just sat by acting as if everything was going according to plan, training me to be used like some hapless pawn, while Daisy sat at the maniac's mercy in some dark lonely cell. He knew how I felt about Daisy and he didn't tell me a word about the situation. He deliberately kept me in the dark because he knew I would never have stayed faithful to his convoluted schemes if I'd known what the cost would be. He was a sociopathic asshole and he didn't care about anyone. He was willing to put Daisy in so much danger. He didn't know for sure that the late king would be so taken with her, that was a twisted sort of advantage because it meant she was alive, but the girl had to endure...

Just a few more minutes, I thought while trying not to split the skin at my knuckles; I was holding the pizza cutter in right hand so tightly that it felt like I would.

In about twenty minutes, I'd be out of this place. I asked my boss ahead of time for permission to get off early, and now I was just biding my time. There was something I needed to do this weekend, something for Daisy. I'd made reservations yesterday at this restaurant downtown, and only by the skin of my teeth did I get it at such short notice. Well, the fact that I knew the owner from a job me and my brother did there a while ago helped seal the deal. That was as far as the favor extended, though, I was on my own when it came to the high cost of the place. That was why I asked my boss for an advance on my check. He was supposed to give it to me today, right before I leave. Then I would have to spend the evening looking for something to wear while Daisy and her friend did the same. I called in a favor from the girl, Alicia she'd told me was her name; she would be making sure Daisy not only got something nice to wear but also stayed in the dark about what I was planning. Tomorrow I would make up for my absentee behavior.

Why is time moving so slowly, I thought with a frown.

I knew why. It always did that when I was expecting something. But today was not the time for me to be alone with my thoughts. They were making me sick. I once again started thinking of Ludwig and how I hoped to never see him again in my life, more for his sake than mine. But these thoughts would stop haunting me as soon as I accepted the way I feel and come to terms with the fact that I'll probably never have any real chance to avenge the girl I love. In knowing and accepting this truth, I'll probably gain some sort of closure on the matter. I just couldn't do it yet. Not at this moment.

I'll have to make peace soon, I knew, If I'm gonna be there for Daisy to help her move on, I've got to actually be there, in body and mind.

"Hey"

Mentally I cringed. Physically I schooled my features and just ignored the person who'd addressed me. It was nearly time for me to leave and I wasn't in the mood to start anything with Terry. He was the last person I wanted to even lay eyes on right then, so I didn't even turn around. But then he put his hand on my shoulder and my body reacted too quickly for me to stop it: I pushed it off of me without even trying to be polite about it, then turned and faced him. I could feel my heart still pumping quicker than usual, could feel myself being a bit above average temperature from the anger festering within me. Terry was surprisingly more observant today than he usually was.

He looked me up and down and asked, "Hey, man, what's eating you?"

"Don't worry about it." I muttered.

I turned back around because the last memory I had of him was seeing him all over Tanya and that was making me mad for a lot of different reasons. He was not much better than Ludwig or the late king, just another soulless bastard who preyed on or used a girl much younger or weaker than themselves for their own gain or pleasure. I set my jaw and tried to dispel the rage building.

"I wanted to talk to you man." Terry said behind me.

Of course you would want that, now of all times, I mused bitterly.

He said, "You been acting funny for a while now."

Have I? That may have something to do with the fact that I'm just realizing how much time I've wasted and and dignity I've compromised by ever having been in your company, I thought dryly.

"What's going on with you?" He solicited.

I rolled my eyes and glanced over my shoulder, stating tersely, "Nothing. Don't you have work to do? Or is that beyond your ability?"

Probably shouldn't have said that, but oh well.

Terry scoffed and said, "I really don't know why you're even mad right now, but if there's anyone who should be pissed, it's me."

Now I had to turn around fully because this was just too outrageous. I dropped the pizza cutter on the counter in front of me and gauged his expression; surely he couldn't be serious.

"You totally cock-blocked my ass at the club the other night." He told me.

I lifted both brows briefly when it dawned on me. So that's what this was about. Figures. I still didn't feel like engaging him in whatever inept attempt at an argument he was trying to ensue.

"Look," I said, "I don't feel like doing this right now."

And I turned back around and hoped that was the end of it. How naive of me.

Terry huffed and said with incredulity, "What, no apology?"

I could feel my body tensing. The rage from everything I'd been thinking about earlier, it was still building.

"Why would I apologize for what I did?" I said slowly, "You were drunk and about to get you and Tanya into an accident or worse."

Not that I didn't appreciate the fact that Terry had gotten his own vehicle while I'd been away.

My co-worker said with a laugh, "Thanks, man, but next time do me a favor and don't look out for me. I could've definitely scored some pussy that night."

The rage was building still.

"So that's what you like?" I retorted heatedly, "getting pussy from some little girl?"

I knew I should have just stopped talking, but I was already mad and the words were coming out whether I wanted them to or not. I'd kept all this anger bottled for too long. In fact, I wasn't really sure if I wanted to contain it anymore.

Terry thought this was a joke because he laughed at my words and grinned.

"Little girl?" He mocked, "Are you kidding me? Have you seen the body on that bitch?"

My jaw twitched and so did my fingers as they balled into fists by my sides.

"That's what she is to you?" I deadpanned, "Just some 'bitch'?"

"I don't see why you're so bent out of shape!" He frowned. "What's it to you if I bang some random chick? You've got that stuck-up bitch so I don't get why you're-"

I can't really say I was in control anymore, because something else had clearly possessed me, something born of immense frustration and fury. It compelled me to do what I did next, and only when I pulled my bloody hand back, knuckles busted and all, did I realize what I'd done. There was a bit of stinging pain from my cut hand, but overall a huge rush of satisfaction was hitting me. Seeing Terry on the floor, scrambling to pick himself up, made me feel like I'd actually gotten back at my some injustice in my life, if only for a moment.

Either that, or it just felt damn good to punch him in the face at long last.

As conflicts tend to do, this one garnered attention, that of my fellow employees. When I'd punched Terry, he knocked over a stack of glasses and the noise had alerted them from the other part of the kitchen. They came flocking over, and it wasn't long before my boss was among them.

"What's going on here?" he asked, looking from me to Terry.

Said moron was gripping the counter with one hand, one that'd been skewered by a piece of glass, and trying to staunch the flow of blood from his nose with the other. That rush of satisfaction was gone by then. I just looked at Terry and felt empty all over again. It was a temporary fix to my problems. but I'd take what I could get.

"Did you do this?" My boss asked me.

I glanced at him with both my hands lax at my sides. I knew I was dripping blood on the floor, but I didn't even feel the pain of my injuries. They were like pinpricks at the precipice of my conscious mind. In answer, I nodded at my boss.

He said, "In my office. Now."

If I were in possession of a single fuck I swear I'd give it, but at this point I just wanted to leave. I didn't care if I was about to be fired, I just wanted to leave. I wanted to get in my car and go pick up Daisy and be alone with her and no one else for the rest of the day. Week. Month.

"In here." My boss ordered roughly.

He stood at the door until I was inside, and then slammed it shut loudly. I winced and glanced at him as if to say, was that really necessary?

"Gotta make this look authentic." He said casually in explanation.

I quirked a brow and watched him sink down into his chair behind his desk. There were lots of papers and pens and things on the oak surface. He clasped his hands over them all and sighed.

"As protocol dictates, I should fire you for what you did." He told me. "Or, at the very least, suspend you without pay."

"Okay." I accepted. "Which one are you gonna' do because I really would like to get out of here if that's alright with you."

"I understand." He told me. "And to answer your question, neither."

"What?"

"I'm not doing either one of those things." He said.

I opened my mouth to say something, but I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. My boss explained himself anyway.

"You're a good kid," He stated, "you don't mess with anybody and you do you work. Whatever that guy said or did must have really gotten to you."

I gazed at my boss skeptically.

"Besides," He added, "I've been waiting to see that guy get knocked on his ass for a while now. He's had it coming."

Another mildly dubious stare on my end.

My boss said conspiratorially, "Between you and me, I've been dying to drop him but I can't exactly fire someone for being an enormous waste of space."

He rummaged around on the desk, looking for something in the form of a small, rectangular white piece of paper.

"I'm gonna' cut you that advanced check," He told me, "You'll get your hours in next week, I know you're good for it. Just uh," He handed me the check. "Make sure you do something about that hand."

"...Right." was all I could say.

"You're not even trying, are you?"

"Yes I am!"

She wasn't. She knew she wasn't, but her obstinate nature compelled her to defiantly answer in opposition to her brother's accusations. Roy could see that she wasn't really giving his training regimen her all, so he dropped his hands and rose out of the defensive stance he'd been lowered in.

"Wen, you gotta' work with me, yo." He coaxed. "Otherwise, you'll have to go back to training with Ludwig."

"Is that what he said?" She asked, frowning.

"More or less."

"I am trying," Wendy continued to insist.

Roy said, "No you're not."

"Roy, I am trying," She said. "I'm just tired from working out with MJ. He doesn't know the meaning of the word 'break' unless it's in reference to a body part."

"Has he been forcing you to exert yourself?" Roy asked then, his countenance clouding.

Wendy huffed and said, "You're doing it again."

"What?" Roy frowned.

"Treating me like some porcelain doll." She answered. "I know you feel bad about Ludwig going all gung-ho on me, but I don't like being handled like I'm fragile or helpless."

Roy sighed and ran a hand through his hair, saying, "Sorry, sorry. I just. Come on. Let's go at it again."

"No."

"What?"

"Roy, I don't want to do this." Wendy told him. "I hate this. I really do."

"I know you hate it now," Roy stated, "But in a little while you'll start to like it."

"No I won't." Wendy scoffed. "I'm not like you and MJ. I don't like doing these things, I don't like the idea of buffing myself up to be Ludwig's little weapon."

"It's not like that." Roy claimed.

"Oh?" Wendy put her hands on her hips. "Then tell me how it's like. Tell me all about being his lapdog."

"Again with the lapdog mess," Roy muttered. "We got these powers, we may as well learn how to use them."

"I already did." She argued. "We all did. Back at the bunker. Without Ludwig's crazy training methods."

"We didn't really learn," Roy countered. "More like discovered them, played around with them. The things he can show us, they're incredible Wen. You just gotta get through this basic workout session so that you can-"

"I don't want this!" Wendy declared a bit petulantly. "I didn't ask for the powers but I dealt with them. I adjusted. I don't want to get better at them, I just want to live my freaking life the way I want to!"

"You mean you wanna' be with that punk," Roy sneered. "What's the point of being gifted if you throw it all away for some boring ass, ordinary existence?"

There was the Roy she knew, the one that fought with her tooth and nail on every topic imaginable. Wendy rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

"God, you sound just like him." She grimaced.

"He was right about that." Roy defended, "and maybe he was right about you; Wen you're blowing this all out of proportion, being all dramatic. You can still live your life once he teaches you to wield your powers. He's not gonna' turn us all into mindless slaves."

"You don't know that."

The voice came from neither Roy nor Wendy, but the top of the stairs in the training room. Like Wendy and Roy, Iggy was clad in a pair of loose pants and a t-shirt and a healthy layer of sweat coated his body. He'd just gotten through his own training session with his eldest brother. His long, neon green hair hung as a sheet around his face and his bright eyes were pensive. Upon seeing him, Roy rolled his eyes.

"Ah, it's Brainiac."

"Dullard." Iggy greeted cheekily.

"Don't you have some deep dark hole to crawl into?" Roy jeered.

Iggy paid him no mind and said, "We don't know what plans Ludwig has for us. He may be our brother, but he's also our king."

"And what's that supposed to mean, Oh Wise One?" Roy taunted.

"It means he may or may not have our best interests at heart." Iggy said simply. "After all, he never told us where we came from or how we got these powers; who knows what else he isn't telling us?"

That made Wendy uncomfortable. She'd thought about their origin a few times before but it made her feel just as anxious as it did now. From the look on Roy's face and the furrow of his brow, he was experiencing a like emotion.

"Quit trying to be all deep and shit." Roy sneered, "We came from our parents."

"Who are?" Iggy asked pointedly.

Roy didn't have an answer, and neither did Wendy.

"We don't know where we were born. Raised. Who our family is." Iggy listed pointedly. "None of us can remember anything before being in that bunker. Doesn't that bother you?"

"Why should it?" Roy scowled. "Whoever our folks were, they're obviously not in the picture anymore."

"Why not?" Iggy pressed in his soft voice. "Why isn't Ludwig telling us these things?"

"Maybe because we never asked," Wendy guessed blindly.

Roy latched onto that, desperate for an explanation to put an end to the sudden onset of cognitive dissonance that his brother's inquisitive nature had caused.

"Yeah, you ever think of that genius?" He smirked.

Iggy gave his brother a long look, then said. "If that's the case, I dare you to ask him, big brother. Ask him about our past and see if he'll tell you. See if he'll speak the truth."

"I will." Roy declared. "And he'll tell us; I mean, why wouldn't he?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." Iggy responded, disappearing into thin air.

Leaving with him was the relative calm that had immersed in the air between Wendy and Roy. Now that he was gone, the two stared hard at each other.

"Well?" Roy prompted.

"I'm not doing this anymore." Wendy said resolutely.

"Wendy, look," Roy started, "I'm on your side. Really, I am. But I think you should change the way you uh, receive, uh, perceive this situation. Ludwig might be forcing us to get better, but it's up to us what we do when we do get better."

Wendy leveled her brother with the type of gaze that let him know he'd just wasted ounces of oxygen trying to reason with her. He didn't stop her in word or force when she rolled her eyes and headed up the stairs, presumably to her room.

"We're leaving."

The statement was abrupt and took Daisy by surprise. She glanced up from where she was handling the cash register and stared at her friend. Alicia looked smug. That was not a good thing, not if Daisy wasn't in on what her source of satisfaction was. She knew the other young woman had a knack for finding out everyone's business, so she braced herself for whatever bit of gossip could warrant their leaving the front desk.

"I already talked to Mr. Lestrange," Alicia continued, "he said we can clock out early."

"For what?"

"Shopping trip."

"Now?"

Not that I'm complaining, Daisy thought. She'd definitely become fond of shopping for clothes, shoes, makeup, and the like. It was good fun so long as she had the money to get what she wanted. Unfortunately, now wouldn't be one of those times.

She told her friend, "I'm kinda' burnt out from the time we went to that outlet mall at the edge of town."

"Don't worry about the money," Alicia said quickly, "Your boyfriend's got you covered."

"Luigi?" Daisy spoke curiously.

"Yup, this morning he told me some things." Alicia said with a smirk. "He asked me to take you to get a real nice dress because you two are going out to dinner tomorrow night."

"We are?" Daisy frowned. "Alicia, you need to stop and tell me what's going on; from the beginning please: when did Luigi get here?"

"Earlier this morning," Alicia replied.

To humor her friend, Alicia came and sat down next to Daisy on her customary bar stool. She could barely keep still, though, she was quite excited at the prospect of Daisy and her spending time together. She'd not had many close friends, for reasons she liked to keep to herself, and so her relationship with Daisy was one she valued and yearned to foster every chance she got.

Alicia clasped her fidgety hands in her lap and grinned as she explained further.

"I asked him if he was looking for you," She spoke. "I mean, he'd just dropped you off so I thought maybe you forgot something and he needed to return it to you. But he said he wanted to talk to me!"

"You?"

"Moi."

"Why's that?" Daisy wondered aloud.

Alicia's dark eyes shimmered as she smiled broadly. "Apparently, he's taking you to dinner tomorrow night at La Comandante."

"That fancy place in the middle of this city?" Daisy recalled.

On one of the many evenings she started to wile away with Alicia, she could remember seeing the elegant restaurant. Alicia was nodding her head exuberantly in the affirmative, but Daisy was still confused.

"Why is he doing this now?" She asked.

It wasn't either of their birthdays, it wasn't their anniversary, and it wasn't a holiday. Neither had gotten a promotion, and the two had already celebrated her getting her first job. She was clueless.

But still not complaining, she added to herself.

"He's probably just being romantic," Alicia supplied with a bright smile. "In fact, I don't think I was supposed to tell you all this, but I thought you should be prepared."

Daisy's confounded expression conveyed her desire for further explanation.

Alicia said, "I know you seemed kinda' frustrated about the night I came over, and about the night at the club. Maybe the third time's the charm." She winked.

The color flared in Daisy's face but she embraced it with a tentative smile. She pondered the thought of another chance at initiating something, anything, with Luigi tomorrow night. She'd choked the last time and then the club was just a flop. She really had pushed her abuse to the back of her psyche, and though she knew she'd eventually have to deal with it more intensively, she didn't want it to hinder her interactions with Luigi.

I just want to be close to him without thinking of anyone but him, she thought with conviction.

"At any rate," Alicia said, standing, "we have to get going. We've gotta' find you a dress, some shoes, and of course accessories."

"That's gonna' be expensive." Daisy remarked while being ushered outside.

Alicia smiled privately and said, "I know. That's okay though. I'm doing a good deed."

There was blood on his hands. On his chest, too; that's where it was coming from. Thick, red blood was leaking from where he'd been stabbed near his heart. The injury hurt badly, as it should, but mingled within the pain impulses being sent to his brain were impulses for pleasure, ecstasy. He was on fire in two different places; near his wound and near his groin. He had no idea where the desire was coming from but it befuddled him so he peered around, trying to pinpoint the source. He had a very low vantage point as he was laying on a bed, a large bed outfitted in satin. He could see a candle chandelier above him, but there was something else, someone else: her. That girl.

She was blindingly furious.

Her rage was nearly palpable. As he panted, whether from exertion from harm or from heightening anticipation, he gazed up at her. She was a thing to consider. Most obviously beautiful but dangerous. He knew he had to handle her carefully. She was like a rose, so unimaginably, aesthetically pleasing, but one wrong move and her allegorical thorns would make him suffer. For lo, it was her two pale hands now that were grasping the knife lodged in his body. He saw them, saw the trembling fingers and the crimson spots of his life essence staining them. Upwards his eyes traveled, noting the fire in her eyes and the cruel, scowling set to her mouth. He immediately realized something: for all her indignation and violence, she was yet afraid. The girl was shaking on top of him. He then noticed that she was straddling him. The nerve receptors in his groin again flared to life. He felt a painful ache travel through his entire body and it was then that the girl's fear manifested itself plainly on her face. She tried to move.

He couldn't have that.

He wanted, needed her body to be as close to his as humanly possible. He needed to touch her, taste her, hold her; he couldn't have her leaving him. He jack-knifed upright, only briefly wincing at the smarting injury on his torso, and reached out for her. His hands made immediate contact with her lily white thighs, colored tawny in the candlelight, and he pulled her towards himself. She resisted. He forced her over, slamming her back into his lap. The manhandling was thrilling, but he wanted not to coerce her.

Onto her back he nudged her with one hand by the shoulder while supporting himself above her with his other hand. From then on his mind ceased to function coherently. He could see himself moving, but the feeling was reminiscent to that of being on autopilot. His hands sought her body for one purpose; to bring her closer to his own. His clothes were a hindrance, but as soon as he thought that, they were gone. His flesh was flush against her and she was feverish beneath him. They started moving together, and then too fast. Her hands were on his back. His hips were rocking into hers. Her name was on his lips and his mouth was between her legs. She was quivering again, but now for an entirely different reason. He'd wanted to taste her, and now he'd gotten his wish.

"Fuck."

The word was highly appropriate, considering what he'd woken up to. They weren't dreams anymore. He was certain of that. They weren't dormant memories either, as he'd never experienced such an encounter before in his life. He only reasoned to believe they were attacks on his person. He wasn't naive enough to think he had no enemies; during the course of his rise to power, he'd made quite a few of them. He now searched his mind for who among them could possess the power to plague him with such decrepit, incredibly personal nightmares. He knew that, whoever it was, they had to know of his contact with Daisy and his involvement with the fall of the late Dark King. That was as narrow as he could get the criteria down to at the moment. He'd been so preoccupied in the last week because they'd only been getting worse. They were more frequent and the thought of them pervaded throughout his mind during his waking hours.

It was frustrating.

He was always on edge because his body craved some sort of release. Were it not for his pride, he'd have expended himself with some of the women in the late king's harem. He wanted to rid himself of the constant sense of arousal, but in doing so he knew he'd be, in a way, yielding to whomever was cursing him with the sensations in the first place and he wouldn't do that. He'd rather try and stifle the emotions conflicting inside him than give in to them.

A/N: I know these are starting to look the same, but I promise there will be progress! Just please bare with me. I was gonna make this longer, with the events of the date b/w luigi and daisy, some peasley action, and things going on at the palace, but I'll save that for next chapter.

Please don't hesitate to leave a review: they're like crack cocaine to me, it's a proven fact; I get a high from reading them and am subsequently addicted to getting more of them x)

I guess I'll see you guys next chapter. Hopefully my head won't be throbbing like it is now. *sigh* the things I do for instant gratification, haha. Until next time...

~DymondGold~