Entering dreams had become Bowser's main method of communication without revealing his identity. In a way, it was usually amusing, watching koopas cower before his illusion. They became so obedient with a little fear.
With the help of Kammy, it was shockingly easy to control everyone he wished to. Giving orders and threats was far more intimidating when the creature refused to show himself. Well, not that Bowser could show himself, anyways.
While it was a bit fun, it was crucial as well, seeing as fear was the only thing keeping everyone in line; keeping them on the surface and away from him and his children. He was used to playing with fear, so this was a situation Bowser was happy to abuse.
In most eyes, Bowser was a phantom; a creature that invaded their dreams and watched them closely, waiting for someone to mess up, and then dispose of them. Yet, word of him never left the building, as many were deemed crazy and foolish.
That was exactly how he wanted it to be.
Bowser shuddered as the familiar rush of cooling, thick darkness crawled over his skin and through his hair, brushing it to the side. It felt like a gentle breeze, but far thicker and consuming as it ate away at his senses.
He was numb, and he had made it.
The koopa took several steps forward into the darkness, stepping onto and into what seemed to be a pool of nothing, never once doubting or looking at his surroundings. His eyes never faltered; he knew what he was doing, and what he was going to do.
This was a head he had always wanted to enter, out of sheer curiosity, and a bit of bitterness.
Slowly, the scene started materializing before Bowser with every step. First, deep, blurry maroons faded into the picture, followed by expensive golds, before clearing into one of the Darklands' nicest establishments, busy as ever.
Bowser groaned, remembering eating here quite often: one of the royal restaurants that the public rarely even got to enter. Gold chairs, tables, and utensils decorated the lavish room. Its massive windows were covered with deep, heavy curtains, blocking out most of the view of the intense Darklands below, and every single guest was incredibly wealthy.
He couldn't help but smirk in amusement. Did Mario really think he could ever walk into a place like this? This was the closest the human would ever get: a dream of what he could never have.
Bowser gazed from left to right, looking for the man he had come to see. However, he was only met with government officials and celebrities that didn't even seem to acknowledge his presence, which he was thankful, as he knew these people would not...be happy to see him.
Even if this was a dream.
Bowser mumbled to himself as he frowned. Why would he dream of such a place and not even-
However, before he could even finish thinking out loud, Bowser froze, his blood running cold as his stomach dropped, his ears focusing on one sound:
Peach's laughter.
It rang like a bell and echoed through Mario's dream, radiating pure joy and happiness, engulfing Bowser with a sense of dread. It was pure and constant, and ever so accurate; It was just like he had remembered it.
The laugh he had tried to forget for all these years, was here, mocking him.
Bowser cringed as he slightly stumbled backwards, overtaken with a complexity of clashing emotions that nearly drove him to sickness. While her laughter was surely beautiful and radiant, it was far more horrific to Bowser than it had once been.
Though wanting to do anything but, he forced himself to look in the direction of the sickening laughter, leading his eyes to linger on an open balcony, where the back of Mario's head could be seen facing towards Peach, the two gazing at one another, and their fingers interlocked.
While Mario's gaze was hidden, the love and emotion spilling from Peach's eyes as she giggled left Bowser fuming.
That damn fool is dreaming of Peach!
The idea of the woman who plagued his mind, also plaguing another, made his sickness multiply tenfold, and quickly get muffled by pure frustration, and almost jealousy, if one could even be jealous of a dream.
Moreover, he was jealous over Mario's clear infatuation as he stared at the woman, and how she met the same gaze, love filling the pits of her eyes.
That look was not meant for Mario.
From the inside of the restaurant, Bowser furiously swiped his claw to the side, causing Peach's mirage to be instantly swept away in a pool of dust, yet her laughter still remained until it slowly echoed away, replaced with a thick, heavy silence and a nearly empty balcony.
Mario was alone.
Mario quickly pulled his gloved hands away as the dust ran through his fingers and floated to the sky. He blinked at it in disbelief for a few moments before trying to desperately grab at the powder as he muttered something to himself that Bowser couldn't make out.
As the dust leaked through Mario's hands, all the love and compassion was replaced with pure regret and confusion: two emotions that suited the human far more, in Bowser's opinion.
While relishing in Mario's clear distress, that was not why he was here, though he couldn't find himself able to deny that he enjoyed it. With a shaky, anger-fueled huff of hair, Bowser took large steps as he started moving forward, creeping in on his prey with one mission in mind:
He would learn to stay in line.
Peach quickly made her way down the obsidian halls, twirling and maneuvering around the wave of koopas that bumped into her knees. Her heels loudly clicked as she sped down the polished flooring, now skillfully making her way to rehearsal, only fumbling over koopas a few times.
She muttered a few apologies as she stumbled around the visitors and employees, which seemed to be the usual when hopping around the opera house, before finally making her way towards the large stage.
"Pauline!" Peach called out between breaths towards the taller woman in the distance. The older woman shooed off a few koopas before turning towards her costar. "Have I missed anything?" She asked with a clear layer of worry.
Pauline chuckled before waving her hand nonchalantly.
"Nah, you're fine. We've been stuck behind schedule due to some...hiccups," she muttered with an awkward smile. Peach tilted her head in confusion, warranting Pauline to gesture her thumb towards a group of goombas and koopas huddling around a door.
The door was, unlike most of the regal doors of the building, wooden and...old-fashioned. It had three locks on it, and the door seemed to be extremely sturdy, as if to keep intruders out.
Or, to keep whatever was in, locked away.
Peach stared at it with even more confusion, as the group around it seemed to be distressed and frantic. Yet, they tried to act casual, which was miserably failing. No wonder they weren't the actors in this production.
"Someone locked behind it?" Peach asked curiously with a lingering amount of humor.
Pauline shook her head. "They're just wimps," she replied with a shrug. "They're...afraid to go through," she mumbled warily. "Normally, Mario grabs what we need from storage underneath. With permission of course, but he called in sick, apparently." She paused before correcting herself. "Or, his sister-in-law did for him, weirdly enough. Sweet girl."
Pauline continued to ramble about how Mario had never missed a day, and how he was probably off slacking with his family or messing around, but Peach was unable to digest any of Pauline's words. Instead, Peach simply nodded as she rubbed the ring sitting on her finger, her mind racing on one word:
Underneath.
One word held so many questions for the young woman, as it hid countless redflags of warning, yet followed by a subtle, urgent beckoning. Whatever was pushing her away, was surely calling her, too! Right?
Peach fumbled with her ring as her mind raced, realizing this could be the easiest excuse for her to at least enter his world; to maybe even see him. Just to look inside would be enough for now! It would surely calm her flame of curiosity.
A sudden slash of fear struck Peach as she realized what she was thinking about doing. This man, ghost, thing, was a murderer. The phantom was a killer, and Peach was thinking about walking right into his territory! For no good reason besides curiosity!
But, it would be so easy...so easy to just take a peak! To just breathe the same air as the ghost who she somehow recognized, if not even get answers to her questions. It's not as if she was trespassing; she was helping production. If anything, that would please her ghost, right?
It's not as if she would hurt anything.
"You! Newbie!" A small goomba called out through a raspy accent as the rest of the group looked over their shoulders at the girls. Clearly, they had come to a decision. "You're expendable, aren't cha? C'mere for a sec!"
Peach held her breath, knowing exactly what was coming as she lowered her eyes lowered to the goomba at the foot of the group. He was short and bulky, and he had not aged well.
"No," Pauline answered dryly as she frowned, also knowing what he was about to say. "She's not going down there when she's barely even been here! We don't even have permission from him to go down-"
"Eh, humans're a dime a dozen! She'll be fine!" He snickered, earning Pauline's bitterness to double.
The goomba brushed off Pauline's concern as he hopped over and grabbed the hem of Peach's dress, casually guiding her towards the door. Pauline's eyes, however, widened as Peach seemed...willing to follow. After all, it was ridiculous to assume a goomba could manage to pull her.
"...If she'll be fine, why aren't you doing it?" Pauline hissed as she bitterly followed the two, clearly not approving of the situation. She folded her arms as she waited for a response, which she finally got when they reached the door.
"I'm an old man, lady! You really think I can carry a prop through here?" He released Peach's dress before looking up at the woman all innocently. "You should respect ya elders, missy."
Pauline rolled her eyes.
"Ever heard of age before beauty?" She scoffed under her breath for only Peach to hear, both knowing the goomba and koopas just needed a valid excuse for someone else to do this.
The crowd spread into two sections, allowing the two humans and goombas to stand before the intimidating door. However, nearly half of the koopas lost interest and walked away the second Peach had come over, seeing that the issue was surely to be covered.
This door was the only thing keeping her separated from the depths of the opera house; the world that she should be afraid of.
Yet, why was the fear almost instantly muffled by her beating heart? Just standing in front of the entrance pumped adrenaline through her veins as she remembered her ghost's words.
Stay out.
His voice was so clear and deep; one she had heard before. Yet, his voice was not that beckoned her, no, but he was what called her, not his words. His very presence was so familiar, almost as if she had missed whoever this stranger was, and yearned to see him again.
Peach finally focused back on what was happening before her, and realized the goomba and Pauline had continued bickering through her silence over whether or not Peach was able to go through with something like this.
If even Pauline was afraid to go down, surely Peach was not a good option, either.
Yet, that didn't stop her from confidently staring between the bickering duo. She crossed her arms, somewhat-annoyed by her being controlled by the two.
"I'll do it," Peach replied quietly as she took a step towards the door, ready to face the sealed world. If anything, she was doing them a favor, while also satisfying a bit of curiosity.
Pauline groaned as she took a step forward, too, her words dripping with disapproval.
"Peach, I don't think-"
"It's okay. I'll be quick," Peach added with a hum, not waiting for any other doubts. "What sort of prop is it? Something light, I'm hoping?"
Pauline sighed.
"About three or four books. They're part of the scene where-"
The goomba snickered as he completely ignored the older woman.
"See! She's sucha independent woman, eh? Let her make her own decisions, next time," he hissed with clear amusement in his words. He turned to Peach, whose eyes had not left the door. "Ready, miss?"
Pauline scrunched up her nose as she turned to head back to stage, not enjoying this situation whatsoever.
Peach hesitated, but nodded, which was met with countless smiles of approval from the smaller group of koopas surrounding them.
Three younger goombas hopped on each other, forming a large tower that reached all of the locks. Each of the goombas individually unlocked one lock each with a separate key, each with a light 'click,' before the door was finally unlocked.
"Alright, miss," the older goomba added as his final instructions. "Should be on a large table to your right. Try not to mess with the other props, alright? We can't afford to break any more."
Peach silently nodded once again as the door was slowly opened by the tower of goombas, their faces cringing in fearful anticipation. The second the door was wide open, the tower of goombas jumped to the floor and scattered, refusing to be near the open door.
Dust floated and filled the room, the only source of light coming from the open door. However, this door was not the only one sitting in the storage room. On the opposite side of the large room, another door sat, seemingly an exit to the outside. That door was far heavier, and more securely locked to keep outsiders out.
And, to her left, an entrance with wooden boards covering the doorway that seemed to lead to a few steps, before becoming completely pitch black and void of any light. These boards were roughly placed, as a human of Peach's size could easily slip through.
This creepy entrance made Peach's heart beat twice as fast, as she knew exactly where it would take her.
The goomba seemed to follow Peach's lingering eyes as he cleared his throat, knowing exactly what she was thinking.
"Find the books, get out, right? Easy. Even you can manage. Get on with it," the goomba muttered impatiently as he hobbled away, his anxiousness of the open door quite obvious. Peach gazed over her shoulder at the elder, now realizing she was alone; unmonitored.
Without hesitating, Peach took a step into the room. It was quite large, and countless props decorated the old room: Beds, lamps, shelves, costumes, you name it. It was quite messy, and most of the props were covered with a thick layer of dust, and several cobwebs.
She instantly noticed the pile of books sitting on an old victorian table on the upper right side of the room, right beside the larger door, surrounded by other old furniture that had its own charm, even though it was quite...eerie.
Now fully in the room, Peach coughed as the dust coated her mouth with a sour taste. The smell of old wood and clothes heavied the air and filled her lungs. Clearly, this room was not taken care of. If the state wasn't a giveaway, the smell was, which nearly made her gag.
Well, with everyone afraid to be so close to going below, Peach was sure they were too afraid to clean it.
Covering her mouth with her dress sleeve to filter out the air, she continued forward towards the books, fighting the urge to look to her left at what was silently screaming at her to just take a peak!
Yet, the young woman held her ground as she kept her eyes glued on the books.
Peach finally reached the table and grabbed the three books, surprised to find they weren't dusty at all, and were actually in nice condition. Were these recently placed here?
She shrugged it off, as that didn't matter. All that mattered was getting them back to the crew. The books were a bit heavy as she lifted them up while she voiced a soft grunt, seeing as they were large, but nothing the woman couldn't handle.
As she turned around, Peach froze as she stared at the entrance to the underground, now fully facing her, and not allowing the woman to avoid confronting it. The open doorway was much larger as she stood in the room than when she had looked at it from the outside. It almost felt as if it led to a dungeon, or even a torture chamber.
With what she heard, maybe that wasn't too far off from what was really down there.
However, that fear multiplied as she suddenly felt a chilling sensation that she had not expected:
She was being watched.
Peach gazed towards where she had entered from, and was uneasy to find no one was there. She looked at the piles of old props, wondering if something was hiding within their pockets of areas Peach couldn't make out.
Her blood ran cold as these were not the eyes of her ghost that were watching her. They were not intense and heated as his eyes, but...distant. She remembered his gaze so vividly from her dream. His eyes were passionate and burning, almost...angry.
This was someone else.
She gasped and dropped the books, however, as she heard the faint sound of a heel scrape the floor, just for a moment, that echoed from the dark depths. Whoever this was, was sneaking, and had mistepped, and started running when Peach reacted, as the clicks of the heels were loud as they got further away.
"Wait!" Peach desperately called out as she quickly made her way to the boarded entrance. She stuck her head through one of the gaps and looked around, feeling her stomach drop at how dark it was. "Please, wait! I won't tell anyone that you're here! Really!" Peach tried to reassure as she knew her voice likely echoed towards whoever was trespassing. "Wait!" She added one more time, as the clicking picked up in speed, and eventually disappeared.
The intruder was now below, nowhere to be seen or heard of.
Peach's stomach dropped as she removed her head from the boards. Whoever this was, it wasn't her ghost, but someone who clearly wasn't supposed to be here. Or, wasn't supposed to be seen, in the very least.
Someone who potentially had answers.
Suddenly abandoning all past warning, Peach's mind clicked as she backed away from the door. If whoever this was managed to dive below and remain unharmed, surely Peach would be able to, as well.
And the longer she waited, this intruder was surely getting further and further away; Peach was wasting time.
Without thinking, Peach grabbed one of the small candles that laid on top of a nearby dresser, a pack of matching resting nearby. She lit the small candle before looking over her shoulder, relieved to see no one was monitoring her.
She quietly made her way to the entrance and placed her fingertips against one of the wooden boards, knowing whoever did this, wanted to keep people from doing what she was about to do.
With a silent apology to her father for how reckless she was about to be, and to Kamek, for abandoning her promise, Peach held her breath as she stepped into the cold, chilling spiral staircase.