All around her was a pool of darkness, an ocean of ink. A voice seemed to call her in the distance, but she could not identify it. The mumbles got louder and louder by the second, her ears aching from the pain. She wanted it to end, but there seemed to be no escape. She was trapped … alone…. with them. The girl longed to muffle the noise, cover her ears, even if only for a second. Sadly each moment brought her farther down, further into the mud below her.
"What is my name? Who am I?" pleaded the girl, pure terror plaguing her voice from the moment it began.
At the edge of the shore appeared a small pink dresser, a purple butterfly in the center. Her bedside table from when she was a child. A small mobile appeared above it, the small monsters waving in the nonexistent wind. She longed for those days, when her mind was full of dreams and ambitions. A warnicorn breeder, a rebel princess… those days were gone now. Nothing would matter now. A small headband materialized on the dresser, its red horns extending from its sides. Tom… she remembered when a simple love triangle was the worst of her worries. She weeped now as she reminisced, sinking farther and farther down.
Moments later the items had faded away, leaving nothing but misery behind. All hope was lost for her. She wondered what was happening outside of her mind, her mother, father, friends. Did they even notice her absence? It had seemed as if weeks had passed in this endless chamber, wandering on for eternity. Pondering. Wondering. Her conscience had been on a hunt for weeks, a search for a purpose. The conflict with herself seemed to be the greatest of all she had faced, those at least bringing her back into reality.
Memories were fading fast, simply replaced by nightmares. It had been this way for months now, ever since her friend had left her for another. What was his name again? His coffee stained locks burned into her memory like a brand, each moment further scarring her emotions. His cherry colored hoodie stared back at her like a mirror, reflecting back a place of refuge, a place of hope. Oh how she still longed for those days. All of the fun adventures they had shared together across dimensions, across timelines. Why did those days have to end? Happy times appeared as the last flecks of light in a starless sky.
Maybe that was her name. Star. A magical princess from another dimension, far far away. The thought made her chuckle. She was such an idiot back then. No knowledge of the future, not a care in the world. A fulfilling life, but one that would shoot her in the back in the present. The destruction she caused was….. unfathomable. She was a better princess now. No time to distract herself with petty things like joy and adventure. Times of the past. The thoughts brought tears to her eyes. "Baloo-balee, baloo-balow. I let you go, I let you go." I let you go…. I let you go.
Then, and only then, did she finally wake up.
Knock. Knock. Knock. The sun shone through the windows of the flimsy structure, causing the boy to stretch and yawn. New day, new routine. The boy climbed down from his ladder, shaking it as he walked along the thin boards. The trees around him swayed in the wind, birds chirping along to the tune. Today was going to be a good day. Fruits grew on the trees beside him, beckoning to him across the landscape But yet, something about today seemed off. Could it be the intense pains he had in his skull? Or perhaps the aches emitting from his left arm? No. No way. Nothing could possibly be wrong in such a perfect Utopia.
Somehow though, despite his positivity, a certain dark aura seemed to float through the air. Marco has only been out for a couple of months, but it already felt like home. Here, he wouldn't have to deal with any people... only himself and the animals around him. Sure he still remembered his old life, but that didn't matter now. He didn't need them. Friends only brought him down at this point, not allowing for him to reach his full potential. Or at least that's what his only true friend told him.
He had appeared into Marco's life only about a month ago from now. And to think that he could have ever been scared of him. "You are special." "It won't be long now." "You just have to wait for it." He was so motivational. He really understood him, more than Star ever could. It took him a while to understand that fact, the first couple of weeks being torture. He would sit alone in the forest, hiding from each patrol passing by. They don't care about me, they never have and never will. I don't need them. They will be better off without me.
The truth was though…. he did still care for them. Nothing that his new friend told him could ever change that. He sensed their misery, their despair in his disappearance. He wanted to run back to them, comfort them, lay their worries to rest. Assure them he was alive, un-kidnapped, unscathed. But he knew that he was no longer welcome there. A tear left his eye as he looked at his arm…. he was a freak. Long purple veins crawled up his arm like string, his hand being a deep shade of purple. If he returned, would they ever look at him the same way again? He was no longer Marco the Human. He was Marco the Monster.
He knew very well the Mewmans' opinion on people like him…...… he had seen the various documentations of their pride in his people's defeat. Each fight brought more cruelty and unfairness to their agreement, the Monsters forced to cower in the far corners of Mewnie while the "greater" Mewmans got the rest. It was pure discrimination, and Marco was not about to stand for it. As much as he cared for the royals of the kingdom, he knew defeating them was the only way to rise up. He would be able to tell his story, either that or die on the battlefield in glory. It was the only way to rise up.
"Not long now Marco. Our plan has no possibility of failure now. Just stay patient child. Gather our forces, strike by night. Master the element of surprise. They will never see us coming."