Even though it technically doesn't mean as much as others, I was super hyped for my seventeenth birthday, as I am with all others. It's not my sweet sixteen, which I don't really give a crap about anyway because I'm aroace and have no intention of ever dating. And it's not my all-grown-up eighteenth, which I'm honestly dreading more than looking forward to. This was just another, ordinary, another year older kind of birthday.
That doesn't actually bother me, though. I could do with some kind of everyday celebration right about now. Don't get me wrong, I'm not turning into one of those ungrateful, whiny 'why can't I just be normal uwu' fantasy protagonists. [do people even like those kinds of characters? Do they find them relatable? Why are so many fantasy leads written like that?] Still, my last big adventure through Karamari Hospital kinda took a tole on my psyche, and not just because of the evil cow monster trying to possess me. Though that is a big part of it.
It had been several months since that faithful adventure (it was in the summer and now it's November) but parts of it stuck with me. The upper levels of the Mansion I'd explored before had been downright jovial in comparison. A love letter to common horror tropes and the creatures associated with them. But Karamari Hospital? It's origin story and the aftermath of that that made it feel more real, more grounded in the reality we know outside fictional stories, even with the undoubtedly supernatural elements. It freaked me out. And I'm sort of ashamed to admit that, because I'd hardly batted an eye at all the stuff that went down before that. I wasn't even that scared when Taker had attacked me after regaining his body; I was more sad than anything else.
But I wasn't going to think about that, not today. Today, I was going to have fun celebrating my birthday with my friends. AFter The-Journey-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named, I'd made a habit of visiting the Mansion regularly after Mom ungrounded me, effectively weirding out everyone in town. Most folks were too nervous to ask me about it, and those who did never believe what I told them. I especially got a kick out of spending nights and sometimes entire weekends there. Then I got to see people's surprised pikachu faces when I always came back, alive and well, just in time for school. As funny as it is, I can't help but wonder why they haven't gotten over it already. The freaking pandemic that swept the nation is practically old news compared to my new favorite haunting ground.
Taker and a few other inhabitants had planned a party for me. It was originally supposed to be a surprise, but no one in the Mansion knows how to keep secrets. I'm not quite sure when/how I got wind of it. Was it Ringu baking a massive cake that it'd take weeks for us to finish? Was it Goopboy stuck in wrapping paper, desperately whaling for help? Or maybe it was sweet little Esmie, who was slowly but surely acclimating to her new life, remarking one day that she'd never been to a birthday party before and was overjoyed to have been invited to mine. At any case, everyone knew about it, and everyone was hyped.
Well, there were some hurtles. We originally planned for Mom to be in attendance; she wanted to see the Mansion and my friends for herself, and now was a great time to do that. But she'd recently gotten a job working for the census, and would have to work that day. I won't lie and say I wasn't bummed, but come rain or shine, I was determined to have a fantastic seventeenth birthday! Even if the universe conspired against me to insure otherwise.
Things went south before the day even began. In the night hours leading from November 2 to November 3, I started to have weird, unsettling dreams. I wasn't a stranger to nightmares, especially after Bessie got its disgusting jaws on me, but these were different. They were strangely vivid, in a different way than my lucid dreams are. Almost like they were coming from outside myself.
In the first dream, I was in the Mansion, nothing too unusual since I dream about the Mansion pretty often. I was carefully making my way across a bridge with a seemingly bottomless pit below. The whole time, I had the nerve wracking feeling that something, or someone was lurking in the depths of the abyss, hoping I'd fall down so they could snatch me up. As I got closer to the exit, I started seeing motion in the corner of my eye that would vanish if I tried to look at it directly.
When I finally made it to the door, it disappeared when I reached out to open it, being replaced by a giant ball of white light. It was extremely bright, but it didn't hurt my eyes. Somehow, I knew that the light was alive. There's power radiating off it, but it doesn't feel threatening.
"Your bravery and wit has taken you far," it says. "Could it take you farther?"
It suddenly sucks me inside, and I suddenly feel heat on my face. I 'wake up' with a start, and realize that the light in my vision is actually coming from a candle flame, and my hair is about to fall into it! I jump back before my hair can catch on fire, and realize that I'm standing in the middle of a circle of candles.
Feeling even more uneasy, I look around and notice the circle is broken up by a black doorway full of fog. I feel compelled to approach it. When I get closer, I start to see images of people swirling in the mists.
"Help them," The same voice that had come from the light whispers in my ear. "Set them free."
My eyes open slowly. I can feel the mattress underneath me, and the blankets tangled around my legs. There's a well-loved plushie cradled in my arms. It feels like I'm awake for real this time, but I can't be sure.
Suddenly, I get the feeling that I'm being watched. A false awakening, then. I decide. And of course, it had to be one of these.
I slowly uncurl and roll onto my back, expecting to see Bessie. That's usually how this sort of nightmare goes. Instead, I'm in for quite the shock, as my brain has decided to shake up the formula.
The girl standing motionlessly at the foot of my bed is a lot less translucent [and blue] than I'm used to seeing, but there's no denying who this is. Long blue hair, inky black eyes, shiny Bowie knife, it had to be none other than Spooky!
"Aaahhh!" Abandoning all rational thoughts and giving in to pure, primal instincts, I launch myself from my bed, putting all my weight into a ferocious punch. Much to both our surprise, it hits, and Spooky is sent tumbling backwards, falling in a heap on the floor. My so-not-awake-enough-for-this-crap brain scrambles to catch up with the situation, but my mouth, being the impatient jerk it is, blurts out: "Don't get any blood on the carpet!"