17 October 2001
MK
Dear Diary,
A month has passed, and yet the events of September 11 are still fresh in our minds. Whenever we visit the castle, Mario and I can hear Peach talking to President Bush over the phone. Koopa hasn't paid one his customary visits once since that horrible day, and when he does show up, it's under a flag of truce. I make sure to stay in contact with Josh and his family; Mario and I have increased the frequency of our trips to Brooklyn. We may be protectors of a faraway land now, but we're Brooklynites first. Once a Brooklynite, always a Brooklynite.
DK phoned us all the way from DK Isle shortly after the attacks. I could tell he was worried about Pauline, so I told him that she's okay, albeit rattled. She'd witnessed the Towers get hit and collapse firsthand and wound up covered in dust while outrunning the resulting cloud of debris and smoke, assisting as many fellow citizens as she could. Sounding on the verge of tears, DK asked us to give Pauline his best, and we agreed.
The September 11 attacks have brought old foes together, and old friendships have further deepened. People have swallowed their pride and reached out to their fellow man in this time of strife. We've been plunged into our darkest hour, but we'll make it through.
Together.
Luigi
18 October 2001
MK
Dear Diary,
You won't believe what's just happened to me today! I received a letter in the mail regarding some contest I don't even remember entering. Apparently, I've won the contest. And the prize? A free mansion! I've always wanted a mansion, with my own personal exercise studio, a home theater, and the latest stereo technology. I'm gonna keep this entry brief, because there's no time to waste—I need to take a look at my new home. I've already given Mario a buzz; he's gonna meet me there!
Luigi
19 October 2001
Boo Woods
Dear Diary,
Well—
I—
Let me just—tell you what happened last night.
The letter came with an enclosed map, and I followed the direction to reach my "free mansion". Turns out, it looked nothing like the photographs they provided me with. It was in the middle of nowhere, in some eerie forest with gnarled tree branches. The wind moaned, and the only company I had was the occasional crow flying overhead. As for the mansion itself, it looked like something out of a B-horror movie. I pushed open the gate and stepped through the walkway, getting a better look at the place. With the windows lit up in an ominous yellow glow and the position of the door, it looked like it was glaring at me. Brrr.
Reaching the door, I eased it open, gazing into the dimly lit room before me. "Hello?" I warily called.
No answer.
Clicking on my trusty flashlight, I ventured inside the mansion's foyer and started searching every room—well, not every room; some of the doors were locked. "Mario?" I called out. "Mario?"
But he wasn't there. And I also sensed that I wasn't alone.
Eventually, I palmed a key which took me into the parlor. As I cautiously made my way inside—an orange ghost with yellow eyes popped out, lunging forward with arms outstretched to grab me!
A scream tore from my lungs, and I must've jumped a mile into the air. Landing on my butt, I struggled to get back up, to get away from this ghost. My back bumped up against the door, and I screamed again, hysterically, as the ghost closed in—
—only for a mysterious suction to pull the ghost back.
A suction which came from a cross between a backpack and a vacuum cleaner, wielded by a bespectacled old man with a tuft of white hair on the top of his head.
I leaned against the door, struggling to pull myself together. That's when I noticed that the old man was being helped by two young woman—well, a raven-haired young woman and an auburn-haired younger woman. All three of them were being dragged about the carpet as the ghost attempted to resist the suction.
"Keep her steady!" instructed the raven-haired woman.
"I'm trying, I'm trying!" shouted the auburn-haired woman—nay, barely a girl. She looked to be in her teens, with freckles sprinkled all over her face.
The ghost jerked harshly, sending the trio onto their stomachs and for a brief ride before finally breaking free of the suction, sending them tumbling in different directions. Something which the ghost apparently found hilarious.
"D—n you, you stupid ghost!" snapped the auburn-haired girl, who'd landed closest to me, shaking her fist at the ghost. It merely made a face at her before disappearing.
The girl huffed in frustration before getting up and brushing herself off. Then, she turned to me and helped me to my feet.
"Wow—are you okay?" she asked.
"Yeah, thanks to you three," I replied. "J—s C—st, where did that come from?"
"We picked up a paranormal signal," shrugged the girl, "and we followed it here."
"Well," I said. "That was amazing. I must say—you've got heart, kiddo."
The girl raised an eyebrow. "'Kiddo'? Who are you calling 'kiddo'?" She stuck out her hand. "The name's Grace. Grace Larssen."
I shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, Miss Larssen."
"It's okay—you can call me Grace," she said. "Or Gracie. Either one's fine."
Meanwhile, the raven-haired woman helped the old man to his feet.
"Are you two all right?" Gracie asked with concern.
"I'm cool," said the young woman.
"I can't take a battering like I used to," said the old man. "I'm getting too old for this ghost-catching tomfoolery."
"You three just saved my life," I gushed. "How can I ever repay you?"
"No thanks is necessary," said the woman. "I—see you've met Miss Grace. She's the rookie of the bunch—only been with us for a year."
"Pays the college tuition," shrugged Grace. To me, she said, "This is my colleague, Rebecca. She also goes by Becca or Becky."
"Hello," said Becky, shaking my hand.
"And this…" said Grace, gesturing toward the old man.
"Don't worry, Miss Grace—I've got it," said the old man. "I'm Professor Elvin Gadd. Or E. Gadd, if you prefer. And you are…?"
"Wait a sec—I recognize you!" Grace broke in, looking me up and down. "You're—Luigi!"
"I am," I said.
"Oh, my God! You rock! I am a BIG fan!" gushed Grace.
"Focus," said Becky.
"Oh, right. Sorry," said Grace.
"Ghosts first, fangirling later," added Becky.
Grace rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mom," she said sarcastically.
"Ladies," Gadd said sternly.
As his two companions clammed up, Gadd said to me, "This house—I swear it seems to have more ghosts every day! What's a young fellow like you doing around here, anyhoo?"
"Well—I was told I won a free mansion, and the map took me here," I shrugged. "I was duped. Guess I should've known better, huh?"
We heard cackling and whipped around to see more ghosts coming at us.
"Okay—we'll explain everything later," said Becky. "Let's move out!"
So we did.
I was whisked to E. Gadd's ghost research laboratory, where the ghosts couldn't reach us. There, Gadd, Becky and Grace took turns explaining the situation to me. Apparently, the mansion had been around for a few days, and the Professor had lived here for most of his life. But most importantly—he saw Mario walk inside the premises, and he didn't even stop to say hello!
"My God! You're saying my brother's trapped in there?" I exclaimed. "Well, I'm getting him out!"
"Hold it, youngster!" Gadd broke in. "You won't stand a chance against those ghosts without my help!"
"He's right. You're unarmed," said Grace.
"Yeah, you gotta learn some ghost-hunting basics," added Becky.
"Only then will you be able to rescue your bro," smiled Grace.
"First off, you'll need this," said Gadd, taking the red backpack/vacuum cleaner and holding it out to me. "I call this nifty little gadget—the Poltergust 3000! It can suck up all sorts of things—including ghosts!"
Gadd helped me slide the Poltergust onto my back. It felt rather lightweight, and I could easily move around with it. I held the nozzle of the vacuum with both hands, shifting its weight first to my right shoulder, and then to my left. Wow! There really was a ghost vacuum in existence, after all!
"You vacuuming a ghost? That would be a sight!" The Merricks had said twenty years ago.
Oh, if they could see me now.
Gadd, Grace and Becky then taught me how to use the Poltergust, how to quickly move around with it, turn the suction on and off, and most importantly, capture ghosts. All I had to do was stun them with my flashlight. Then, I could vacuum them up easily. I spent thirty minutes to an hour practicing and getting the feel of my new weapon. By the time the trio decided I'd mastered the basics of ghost hunting, I'd gained a slight measure of confidence.
"All right—you've worked up quite a sweat there," said Gadd. "Wanna cool off in the Gallery?"
"Maybe I should," I said.
So, we all sat in the Gallery, Becky fixing us some lemonade to slurp down.
"I'm gonna need something a little stronger," I said. "Got any spirits? I'm not talking about the spirits I'm supposed to vacuum up."
"We've got Scotch, whisky, vodka, wine, rum…," said Becky.
"Some wine would be nice, preferably a sweet wine."
"You're in luck, because I've got a few bottles of Moscato to my name," smiled Becky, pouring me a glass of the aforementioned wine.
"Thanks," I said. "How about you, Grace? Interested in a little Moscato?"
"Not yet, I'm afraid," sighed Grace. "I'm only nineteen. Two more years."
"It'll be worth the wait," I promised her. Then, I raised my glass to nobody in particular. "Cheers," I said before taking a sip.
As I enjoyed my wine, Grace told me a little bit about herself. She was from Los Angeles, California, and her parents were high-school sweethearts. Her earliest memory was of playing Super Mario Bros with her mom, and later with her dad when he got home from work, with her usually playing as yours truly. She'd made a lot of friends in school, but her best friend had been a boy named Greg. People used to call them "G&G" because they were so close. Friendship became love, and their love story climaxed at the junior prom, where the two of them had been crowned prom king and queen, just like her parents before her. Unfortunately, after they graduated from high school, they realized their relationship would never work, due to their diverging career paths. Grace had been interested in the paranormal since she was twelve years old, while Greg sought a career in journalism. So, they'd decided to put their friendship first and amicably parted ways.
"Hey," I said. "There are other Cheep Cheeps in the sea. I'm sure you'll find the One."
"Thanks, Luigi," blushed Grace.
I slugged back the rest of my wine and stood up. "Okeydokey," I said. "I've got a brother to save."
"I wanna come with you," said Grace.
"Gracie—it's dangerous out there," warned Becky.
"I assumed the risks when I took this job," argued Grace.
Then, she looked deep into my eyes. "Luigi, please. I can help you. I want to help you find your brother, and not just because I'm one of your greatest fans—but also because I smell adventure, and d—mit, I want in."
I smiled at her. "Sure," I said. "I could use your help."
Becky sighed in resignation. "Very well," she said. "Just don't blame me if something happens to you."
"I should be so lucky," scoffed Grace.
So, Grace and I headed back to the mansion, with Becky and Gadd seeing us off. "Be careful!" they called.
"We will!" Grace called back.
In addition to the Poltergust, I was equipped with the Game Boy Horror, a device I could use to communicate with Gadd and Becky. These were the only tools standing between me and those ghosts. Oh, and I was accompanied by an adventurous, well-meaning, but naïve nineteen-year-old rookie ghost-hunter.
Bring it on, I guess.
Upon entering the foyer, we were confronted with a borderline hysterical Toad.
"Hey," I said comfortingly. "It's all right."
"It's Mario," sobbed the Toad. "I can't find him anywhere! Peach sent me to look for him—he left when you called him about winning a mansion. But he never came back. And—then—when I arrived here, the place was full of ghosts. Since Mario was nowhere to be found, I just freaked out a little, and I didn't know what to do! It was awful! For God sakes, Luigi, you HAVE to help me find Mario! If anything befalls him, I don't know if I'll ever live with myself! And Peach—she'll flip!"
I knelt beside the Toad and hugged him close. "Leave it to me," I vowed quietly.
The Toad grinned, his tears gone. "Yay! You just made my dark and stormy night, Luigi! I knew I could count on you! Wait—who is this lovely young woman?"
"This is my new companion, Grace," I said.
Grace smiled and shook hands with the Toad. "It's a pleasure to meet you," she said.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, too," said the Toad. "You keep L safe, okay? I kinda like him myself."
"You have my word," said Grace, and the two of them exchanged a meaningful look.
"Let's do this, Luigi," she said to me.
"Let's-a go!" I agreed. Mario was counting on me. I had to help!
Grace and I explored darkened rooms, collecting treasure and keys along the way. We also ran afoul of ghosts. They loved sneaking up on us and giving us (or just me—Gracie was a bit of a nightmare fetishist—for a nineteen-year-old, she's got nerves of steel!) a scare. But with my Poltergust, I was ready for them. After a couple of near-misses, I was able to expose their hearts and vacuum them up, with assists from Grace, of course. During the trek, I began to hum softly to myself, noticing that it helped keep my nerves under control. At least in a darkened room, I'd hum. In lit areas, where I had more confidence, I'd whistle. Gracie—tolerated it.
In the study, we came upon our first major ghost. Grace identified him as Neville, the Bookish Father. Being dead has given him some time on his hands, allowing him to read to his heart's content. Which was what he was doing now. Sitting in a rocking chair and reading a book.
"Ho ho ho ho," we heard him say. "Go ahead, try to find me. I can see you, but you cannot see me, ho ho ho ho…" His voice echoed hauntingly throughout the study, sending a slight chill down my back.
"Steady, L," said Grace. "Can I call you L?"
"Sure," I said, a little distractedly.
I gasped as a levitating book headed straight for us! We dove out of the way, and the book continued to chase us around the study. After three minutes of this twisted game, we spotted Neville yawning.
"Here's our chance!" shouted Grace. "Fire away!"
I didn't need to be asked twice. I stunned Neville, and Grace helped keep the Poltergust steady as I vacuumed him up. Unfortunately, Neville broke free, and we had to endure two more rounds of Dodge the Levitating Book before we finally captured him. The d—n book managed to hit us a few times, but it was nothing we couldn't handle.
A treasure chest appeared behind us. In it, we found a key which allowed us to access the Master Bedroom. My hand shook as I turned the key in the lock and opened the door.
Inside, there was more treasure and dollar bills to vacuum up, and with them came more ghosts which dragged us this way and that like rag dolls.
"What's Gadd gonna think when he sees us with these rub burns, huh?" quipped Gracie after we cleared all of the ghosts.
I laughed, but there was a nervous edge to it.
We also came across these contraptions called Elemental Medals, available in three flavors: Ice, Water and Fire. Not to mention the corresponding Elemental Ghosts. Sucking up these beauties blessed my new weapon with all sorts of special powers—shooting out fire, jets of water or ice—helping me defeat ghosts faster and sparing me and Grace a tiring fight.
"After we get out of this, I'll tell you about a cute little guy named Kirby," I said to her after using an Elemental power for the first time.
"That's okay," Grace said politely. "I've played a few Kirby games, including his first."
We sat on the bed to rest a bit, and then another ghost caught my eye. A young woman fussing over her long, blond hair with a brush, seated before her dresser and a mirror.
"Isn't my hair just gorgeous?" she asked. "Of course, I do spend a lot of time on it. I was so bored, cooped up in that painting. Now, I spend all my time in front of the mirror. It seems to scare people, though, so everything is coming up roses!"
I tapped Grace on the shoulder and gestured toward the ghost.
"Oh, dear," she said. "That's Lydia, the Mirror Gazing Mother."
"She seems to love her hair," I mused. "Isn't vanity one of the seven deadly sins?"
"Indeed," sighed Grace. "Let's get her in the vacuum, shall we?"
I spotted some curtains to her left, aimed the Poltergust, and pressed the suction, causing them to open. Wind came whooshing in through a small hole in the window, disturbing Lydia's lovely hair.
"Oh, dear," said Lydia. "Such a draft…"
She got up from her seat and moved toward the window to shut the curtains.
And there lay my window of opportunity.
Acting fast, I stunned Lydia, and Grace and I sucked the vain ghost into the Poltergust, to keep Neville company.
"They're married," said Gracie when we were done.
"Hm. Good to know," I said.
"They have a son, Chauncey," she added.
"A little baby ghost?" I quirked an eyebrow. "That's even better to know."
A treasure chest gave us they key to the Nursery. After collecting treasure and capturing more ghosts, we heard a baby's cry.
And there was Chauncey, floating above his crib, fussing.
"Oh, wow!" gushed Gracie. "He is SO cute!"
I couldn't agree more—Chauncey was one adorable ghost baby—in a creepy sort of way, of course.
"Horsey—rocky—horsey…" he was saying.
"He—wants to play on a rocking horse," I said. "Isn't he a little young for that?"
"Maybe—we can try something with that rocking horse over there," said Grace, pointing.
So, we blew a gust of air toward the rocking horse, getting Chauncey's attention. He invited us to play a game with him—not that we really had a choice.
Chauncey had a weird idea of what a "game" was. His idea of "playing" consisted of trying to hit us with three teddy bears, one after the other. After dodging the bears, we could simply suck them up into the Poltergust. Once the third bear was taken care of, both Grace and I were cross and decided to change the rules a little bit. We sucked up a nearby ball and launched it at Chauncey. Needless to say, he didn't take it very well.
"Ow! You gave me an owie!" he whined. "I just wanted to play with you! I HATE grown-ups! Why do you have to be bigger than meeee?! I've had enough!" As his hissy fit continued, Chauncey began shrinking us. "Small. Now grow smaller! Small! Itsy! Tiny! Little! Wee! Ga ga goo goo GA!"
Wow, what a spoiled little brat.
Now, Grace and I were Lilliputian ghost hunters in a giant crib, confronted with a giant Chauncey. Playtime was over, and it was time to get serious. First, the two of us had to evade enormous rocking horses. Next, we had to watch out for a slew of bouncing balls. Instinctively, I sucked up the closest ball and sent it Chauncey's way. Figured he wanted to play four-square, or something. As it turned out, it was enough to stun him. Gracie and I let the Poltergust rip and managed to deplete about a third of his HP before he escaped and started bouncing around, attempting to land on top of us. Luckily, we were too fast for him.
So, to recap, Chauncey sent huge rocking horses after us, followed by bouncing balls, and then tried to crush us, all because we ruined his little game. Yeesh. Need I mention that we had to go through all of that two more times? We were glanced a few times by the balls, hit several more times by a rocking horse, and while we managed to avoid Chauncey falling on us, the shock wave from his pounce knocked us back quite a distance. Nonetheless, our teamwork won the day, and we managed to get the bratty ghost into the vacuum with his parents.
"Someone's lacking in the discipline department," I gasped once we recovered our bearings.
"Tell me about it," chuckled Grace. "Talk about an enfant terrible."
"The Poltergust is getting a little heavy—and full," I said. "We'd better head back to the lab."
Gracie agreed, and we returned to the lab, battered but still alive. Becky hugged Grace the minute she walked through the door, and Gadd was delighted upon seeing the ghosts we caught. He had me empty the Poltergust into a contraption he called the Portrificationizer, which turned Neville, Lydia and their brat son back into portraits. While Gracie took a shower and changed clothes, I put some ice on the bruises I'd sustained and helped myself to another glass of wine. Liquid courage, you know.
Thirty minutes later, the two of us were refreshed and ready to head into Area 2. Upon entry, Grace and I found the place teeming with ghosts, but by then, we'd gotten the hang of ghost-fighting and ghost-catching. Gracie had even brought along her brand new iPod, filled with upbeat pop songs to keep our spirits up. Since we needed to keep one ear open, she used the right earbud and gave me the left earbud. However, I still found myself humming when in a darkened room.
In the Ball Room, we were attacked by six Ghost Guys. After capturing them all (no easy feat, I assure you), a dancing ghost couple appeared and performed a waltz, causing the dance floor to spin.
"The Floating Whirlindas," gasped Grace. "Former waltz champions."
"You seem to know your ghosts pretty well," I remarked.
"Lots of reading," she said.
She grabbed my hand, and we dashed onto one of the spinning tiles. "Don't look at them," she commanded.
"What's your plan, Grace?" I asked.
"Do you trust me?" she asked.
"Kinda," I admitted.
"Good enough. For now, we wait."
And so, we waited, thankfully, not for long.
Once we heard the male dancer say "Dance!", Gracie shouted, "Now!" The two of us—er—whirled—on the Whirlindas and vacuumed them up. Our reward was a treasure chest containing the key to the Storage Room.
Greeting us in the Storage Room was a Purple Puncher, and then a red Grabbing Ghost. After some struggle, we sucked them up and did our usual treasure collecting. While further exploring the Storage Room, I came upon a switch.
"Hey, Grace," I said. "I wonder what this thing does."
I threw the switch, causing a trapdoor to open. And then—
"Holy [bleep]!" we shouted in unison as Boos started streaming out of the trapdoor, followed by a bigger Boo with violet eyes and a crown.
"Who in the Inferno is that?" I yelled, standing protectively in front of my companion, the nozzle of the Poltergust raised in defense.
"I think that's their king," said Grace.
"Hey, look!" the big Boo shouted to the other Boos. "That's Luigi! He's the one who disturbed us! We'll do to him what we did to his brother, only worse!"
My gut twisted.
The Boos then seemed to notice that I was armed. "Wait a minute! Is that the Poltergust 3000? It is the Poltergust 3000! Everybody scram!" Within seconds, the Boos had dispersed.
Exchanging a look, Grace and I raced to Gadd's lab, where we told him about this development.
"Those Boos are bad news," said Gadd. "They're the ones who freed the portrait ghosts."
"Why are you telling me this just now?" I asked.
"Apologies—slipped my mind. Anyhoo, the only way you can beat them is by capturing them; their strength is quite literally in numbers. With each Boo you catch, they'll become weaker."
"Capture the Boos to weaken them. Got it," I said.
Back to Area 2 I went, Poltergust blazing, Gracie tagging along. From room to room, all that could be heard was the sound of the vacuum as I sucked up each and every Boo I encountered, this time humming along to the music on Grace's iPod. Of course, more regular ghosts awaited us, but they only slowed us down for a little bit. By the time we reached the Fortune Teller's room, we were both sweaty and in the throes of a major adrenaline rush.
"Ever seen a Boo before, Grace?" I asked.
"First time," she said honestly.
Composing ourselves, we examined our surroundings, and then I shone my flashlight on the crystal ball, making it light up. A Portrait Ghost appeared, a woman with a scarf tied over the lower half of her face and dressed in silks. We jumped at the sight of her.
"Don't be alarmed," she said. "I mean you no harm."
"Madame Clairvoya," breathed Grace.
"Yes," the fortune teller seemed surprised. "And you are…?"
"My name's Grace, and this is my companion, Luigi," said Grace. "We're looking for someone."
"We think my big bro is trapped here," I added. "His name's Mario."
"Mario…" murmured Madame Clairvoya. "Sounds familiar."
I rolled my eyes. "Of course."
"He may have dropped a few items in this mansion," she said. "If you bring them to me, I'll do my best to point you two in his direction."
"You'd really do that?" I asked.
"I'm a woman of my word."
"Wow," beamed Grace. "Thanks!"
"You're welcome."
Grace and I left the Fortune Teller's Room and continued our mission. In the North Corridor of the first floor, we saw a floating candelabra. I had a hunch about that candelabra, grabbed an Elemental Fire Medal and used my Poltergust to light the candles.
"Ahh!" a voice screamed as a Portrait Ghost materialized. "Fire! Fire! Run away! RUN AWAY!" He fled, and we gave chase, cornering him in the Butler's Room.
The ghost made the mistake of placing the lit candlestick under him, lighting him on fire. Screaming, he rolled around in his chair, Grace and I leaping into action and capturing him.
"What a burn," said Grace once we had him in the Poltergust.
The lights came on, and another treasure chest appeared, yielding another key. It would open the door to the Conservatory, but on our way there, we explored the Laundry Room, where we found Mario's cap. Promptly, we took it to Madame C (my nickname for her—it gives my fingers a break!)
"Wh—what is this?" she asked. "If it isn't Mario's Hat! Why, it's so clean, as if—SOMEONE JUST WASHED IT!"
"Okay, chill," said Grace.
"Sorry—sometimes I like to add a little drama, you know. Ohhh—Harummm—I see that your Mario lives. Well, he isn't in the spirit world—but one cannot say he is alive. Where is he? Where is he now? Ah, the spirits fall silent! Uuuh—this is all I can tell you for now! Bring to me another clue, and I will show your brother to you. This clue no longer speaks to us…"
"Well," said Grace as we took our leave. "That's a good starting point, don't you agree?"
"Yeah," I said distractedly.
We entered the Conservatory, where an array of musical instruments lay. An acoustic guitar, a drum set, woodwinds, a xylophone, some string instruments and a timpani. Grace crossed the room, picked up the guitar and blew some dust off of it before taking a seat and setting the guitar onto her lap.
"You play guitar?" I asked.
"Yeah—I took some lessons," Grace said quietly as she tuned the instrument.
Then, she began to strum the guitar, and I was able to recognize the song by the first few chords. It was "Kiss Me", by Sixpence None the Richer. Grace began to sing, in a soft, slightly mellow voice, her eyes closing and her body visibly relaxing. I couldn't help but sway and tap my foot as she sang the first verse.
When she got to the chorus, however, the piano joined in. I stared, wide-eyed, at my companion, who nodded toward the grand piano. There, I saw a Portrait Ghost with blonde hair, wearing a red dress, playing along. Immediately, I figured out that this was Grace's plan all along.
"C'mon, L—you know the words!" she encouraged as she approached the second verse.
Ah, heck with it, I thought as I began to sing in perfect harmony with Grace. I didn't receive any proper training, but it was pleasing to the ear, regardless. Grace and I continued to sing, and the ghost pianist continued to follow along, through the second verse, then the chorus, then the bridge, and then the chorus one final time. One last strum of the guitar, and the song finished.
The ghost applauded. "Wonderful, just wonderful!" she gushed. "Truly, a stirring performance!"
"Thank you," blushed Grace.
"My name's Melody. People call me the spectral beauty of the ivory keys!"
"I'm Grace, and this is Luigi."
"Hi," I nervously said.
"Luigi, Grace—how would you two like to hear my sonata?"
"I'd love to hear your sonata," I said.
"Yeah—I have a slight ear for classical music," added Grace.
Melody sat at her piano and began to play. Grace and I sat across from her and listened intently. It was almost as if she'd brought us under a spell…
When she finished, Melody looked at us. "Did you—recognize that piece?" she asked.
"Yes," we said together.
"And what's the name of that piece?"
"The Moonlight Sonata," I replied. "Almost every piano player's been taught that piece at some point."
"Excellent," laughed Melody. "Now that I know that I don't have to hold back on you, let's have a battle with my lovely music sheets!"
She began to play a dark tune on the piano as the aforementioned music sheets floated into the air and dove at us. Quickly, I readied my Poltergust. The music sheets lightly scratched us, but the show must go on. Grace and I could easily catch the music sheets and suck them up. Once we vacuumed all of the sheets, Melody stopped playing, seemingly entering a melancholy state. I flashed my light at her, and Grace helped me with the capture. We got yet another key for our efforts.
We proceeded into the Projection Room, fought and defeated some Cinema Ghosts and came across a white glove—Mario's glove! We took it back to Madame C, where she had this to say:
"Wh—what is this? If it isn't Mario's Glove! Ah-hah! Still damp with the sweat of the living! Ooh—Harummm—your Mario is imprisoned. But where, oh where is he being held? Yes! A painting! Your Mario has been imprisoned within a painting! My orb shows an odd altar, and—c'mon, you stupid orb—yes! Above it, your Mario! Trapped in a painting!"
"M-Mario," I said shakily.
"Don't worry, L," Grace said consolingly. "We'll find him."
I wanted to believe that with all my heart.
In the Dining Room, we encountered the gluttonous Mr. Luggs, who was stuffing his face with food. Grace and I hefted the Poltergust and sucked the food off his plate, followed by two Waiters trying to give him more food. Mr. Luggs responded by shooting fireballs at us, but he eventually tired himself out, and in short order, we captured his fat [bleep] and were rewarded with plentiful riches.
Next up was a guard dog named Spooky, who we had the displeasure of meeting in the Boneyard. The second we approached him, he started chasing us, barking loudly and trying to bite us. He managed to take a chomp out of my [bleep], but I easily shook him off.
"What is that noise?" a skeleton known as Mr. Bones demanded, joining the fray. We easily sucked him up, save for a bone that landed in front of Spooky. Spooky licked the bone, allowing Grace and I to suck him into the Poltergust. We looked at his doghouse just in time to see a vortex opening.
"Should we…?" I asked with some trepidation.
"Maybe it'll lead us to the altar Madame C was talking about," said Grace.
"Okeydokey," I said under my breath as we walked up to the vortex and leaped through.
We found ourselves in a graveyard, the moon our only source of light. The comfortable stream of music from the iPod suddenly stopped, and Grace cursed.
"The battery ran out!" she hissed.
Grace used a tissue to wipe off the earbuds before wrapping them around the iPod and placing it into her pocket.
"All right," she said. "Just—stay—close."
Together, we ventured deeper and deeper into the graveyard. More of those skeletons greeted us and were quickly vacuumed up. The flashlight beam looked so pitifully thin, and the flimsy moonlight did little to help matters, as it was mostly masked by the wide, gnarly tree branches. I reached out and seized Grace's hand, squeezing it, and she squeezed back. And then I began to hum that peculiar tune, my voice only amplifying the sense of isolation as it bounced off of various graves and tree trunks. I felt the treble in my humming, a treble which increased as we approached a large, glowing headstone.
Grace and I paused when we reached the headstone, gazing curiously at it. Suddenly, a lightning bolt struck it, and a purple ghost with a large mouth, yellow eyes and scythe-like arms jumped out at us!
I screamed.
Grace simply gasped. "Bogmire," she whispered.
We found ourselves in a mysterious arena, where a shadowy version of this—Bogmire—materialized and slunk toward us. It was soon joined by other Bogmire shadows.
I gripped the nozzle of the Poltergust so tightly it hurt, and then I felt Grace's hands slide over mine.
"Do you trust me?" she asked.
I nodded vigorously.
"Let's try getting one of those shadows," she said.
So, we did. Spotting the real Bogmire hiding nearby, I knew exactly what to do, launching the Bogmire shadow at him. Then, we stunned him and turned on the suction full blast.
After only a few seconds, he violently broke free, sending us flipping backwards. Grace and I had to repeat the process over and over again. Sucking up the nearest Bogmire shadow, hitting Bogmire with it, and then trying to vacuum him. Those shadows managed a few swipes, and those swipes drew blood, but we ignored the pain, only seeing the purple ghost we had to defeat.
Six tries later, we succeeded. I did a cool flourish with the Poltergust and high-fived Grace. Back in the graveyard, we opened a chest bearing a green key.
After that harrowing battle, we decided that a break was in order and returned to Gadd's lab. I emptied the Poltergust and watched as the ghosts were turned back into portraits before tending to my wounds and pouring myself a third glass of wine. Grace, meanwhile, made another beeline for the showers before fussing over her own wounds and charging her iPod. Then, she made herself a sandwich and sat next to me, silently eating it.
During our break, we discovered that the green key would allow us into the courtyard. After I finished my wine, and Grace finished her sandwich, and as soon as the iPod was charged, that's exactly where we went.
After using fire to ward off some ghosts, Grace and I found a letter. Instantly, I recognized Mario's handwriting and slid it into one of my pockets. After collecting a large amount of treasure, my ears picked up a familiar voice.
"Hey, Luigi! What's the hold-up?!"
"Did you hear that?" I asked.
"Hear what?"
I beckoned to Grace as I followed the voice to a dry well. Carefully, we climbed the ladder down to the bottom and continued walking until we found a lion's mouth, with just enough room for both of us to look out.
We scanned the room in front of us. Candles, stone pillars and more of those lions—and then my gaze riveted on the painting on the far wall.
I could barely breathe.
There he was, my big bro, helpless and stuck in a picture frame. Bruises and lacerations marred his face, there were the beginnings of a black eye and his lip was busted, signifying that he hadn't gone quietly. But what really got to me was the way he was pounding on the wall of his prison, fiercely but fruitlessly, millions of emotions flashing in his eyes. And he was screaming. I'd never heard him scream like that before.
"Get me outta heeeeere!" he screamed. His voice was muffled, but I could catch the impending hysteria behind his breaths as he continued to futilely beat on the walls, bruising his knuckles.
He screamed again and again, but there was nobody there to hear him, nobody there to care about him, nobody there to pray for him, nobody there to help him.
Except me.
I reached a shaky hand toward Mario, tears blurring my vision. Could he see me? Could he sense me? Did he even know I was searching for him? His screams tore at my heartstrings and seared through my brain. And I hope and pray to any deity paying attention that I never hear him scream like that again.
"Mario…" I managed to choke out. He kept on pounding and slamming at the glass, screaming occasionally, his pupils dilating. The desperation and hysteria were setting in now. The hero, who always had control of the situation, was now the plaything of a villain neither of us had encountered before. And I didn't think he was counting on anyone coming for him.
"Mario," I said again. "It's me. I'm here. I'm getting you out of this mess, and I'm gonna bring you home. I swear to you…"
I don't think he saw me. Yet.
Before I knew it, I was slumped against the bottom of the well, gasping. Grace knelt across from me, her face paling.
"Oh, [bleep]," she said. "[Bleep]. That's—your brother."
I nodded. "I gotta—I gotta find a way into that altar! God—mit!" I punched a wall. "Why did I think I won a free mansion, anyway? How f—ing naïve can I be?! I've put my own brother in danger!"
"Luigi…" said Grace, as I stormed back up the well and back across the courtyard.
"Luigi, please!" she tried again. "You're not to blame for this. Whoever's responsible—took advantage of you. Both of you. Look—give yourself some credit. You've gotten this far."
"You've gotta understand," I said. "He's my bro. Whenever I needed him, he was there for me. We made a vow—that we'd always look after one another. We swore it."
"You can't be there to protect him from everything, L," sighed Grace.
"I—I'm not really known for being brave," I confessed. "Mario's the first to leap at the call to adventure. Me—not so much. I'm shy. I'm a little awkward. I'm the cautious one, the clumsy one. Hell, Mario gets all the credit during our adventures. The Toads always fumble over my name. To them, I'm 'Green Mario'. And to top it off, I hate ghosts! But regardless of that—regardless of that, I love Mario with all my heart, and I've promised to defend him with my life."
"You still can, L," said Grace. "Now that you know where they're keeping him, you can kick some paranormal [bleep] and free him from his prison. You can go the distance and be the hero for once."
I looked at her. "You're right," I said. "I'm gonna stand up to these ghosts and save my big bro's life. And nothing's gonna stop me. Nothing." I set my jaw and adjusted my cap. "Let's-a go, Grace."
We left the courtyard and traversed the mansion's many rooms, battling more ghosts as we went and capturing more Boos. Along the way, we picked up two more of Mario's lost items—his Star in the Observatory and his shoe in the Twins' Room, after slugging it out with two ghosts named Henry and Orville. Straightaway, we brought the three items to Madame C, and she examined them one-by-one.
"Listen! Can you hear it? The inner voice of your sweet, beloved Mario!" she cried as she examined the letter. "Oh, horrors! What is this? A—king? King Boo?! What is this King Boo? I don't understand just what he means, but—beware of King Boo! This is what your brother wishes to say to you. Oh, yes—a Boo who wears a crown. I see! This is King Boo!"
I remembered the large Boo that Grace and I encountered when I opened that trapdoor. We'll do to him like we did to his brother, only worse…
Grace and I exchanged a horrified look as Madame C looked over Mario's Star.
"I can hear it! Your brother, Mario! He cries out for you! What…? The power of the Boos? You wish to tell us something of their mysterious Boo-power? Oh—okay—the Boos do indeed have strange powers. When they gather in numbers, their power grows stronger!"
"That's what the Professor told us," I said.
"But! They do fear your mighty Poltergust 3000," she went on. "Ugh—I fear that I have only enough power within me to read one more of your brother's dropped items—my strength ebbs away."
So, I gave her Mario's shoe, and it was then that the three of us got a breakthrough.
"Ah, the spirits return to me! I see! I see! I see your dear Mario! The scene appears before me! Wh-what is this? Koopa?! How can this be?! I see the hideous form of the Koopa King!"
"That's impossible," I said. "There's a truce between us."
"Unless he's decided to break it," said Grace.
"No—this is different," I explained. "Things haven't been the same since—a month ago…"
Something seemed to click for the auburn-haired girl. "I see," she said quietly.
"Has King Boo somehow persuaded Koopa to break this truce?" asked Madame C. "This could be horrible—ahhh, no, the powers leave me! The spirits depart! This is all I can show you, Luigi. That was the last of my power."
"You did what you could, Madame C," I said, a bit shakily. "That's all that matters."
"I have given words to what the spirits have shown, so I can return to my painting satisfied," she said. "Send me there now, you vacuum-wielding rogue!"
"You've been so kind to us," said Grace.
"Do it—please. You have to…" the ghost persuaded us.
We rose from our seats, grabbed up the Poltergust and reluctantly began sucking her in.
"Ahhhhh! Finally, I can return in peace to my painting," she cried. "Sweet happiness in oils—I thank you. I thank you, kind Luigi and Grace!"
And then she was in the vacuum.
Silence in the room.
Without a word of prelude, I walked back out and into the hallway as Gracie followed. My face was set as I encountered twenty more Boos, sucking them into the Poltergust with ease. I looked over at Grace, and she sported a contemplative expression on her face, as if what she'd just learned and seen was penetrating her idealistic worldview.
"What are you thinking about?" I asked her.
"I told you that I got into this only to help me finance my college expenses," said Grace. "There's more to it than that. I was drawn by the excitement, the rush, the adventure. When I applied for this job, I sent in a masterful thesis on the properties of paranormal beings. During my first year, it was nothing but fun. But now—these ghosts aren't like the ones in the movies. They fight dirty. And recent events have made me realize the true depravity of human nature."
"Where were you? When it—happened?"
"We'd gotten back late from an expedition, so I slept in," said Grace. "I woke up, fixed myself some breakfast. Planned to go out later that afternoon, but when I turned on the TV, it was all over the news. At first I thought, 'Well if it's just a freak accident, the TV stations will milk it dry, and then that'll be it'. Becky and Gadd came in and watched the story, too. That's when the second plane hit."
Swallowing, she continued. "Our first priority was the Professor. He was old, and he probably had a weak heart. He didn't need to see that. He was badly shaken, but otherwise okay. Then, I called my parents. I was still a little numb—until I saw President Bush on the TV, seated behind the Resolute Desk, giving his address. Then, I thought, 'Oh, my God. This is really happening.' For many days after, I was…" She trailed off. "Seeing the Towers collapse in front of me, I…"
"I know," I said to her, my hand on the small of her back. "I know."
"I'm trying to find out if there's still some goodness in this world," Grace brokenly finished. "Is there any ounce of goodness? Or am I living in a world filled with vicious people who spend their days hurting others just because they want to?"
"Maybe there is some good in this world," I said softly. "You just need to look harder."
"Yeah," Grace whispered. "I guess you're right."
We reached the balcony, where the Boo Radar on my Game Boy Horror started going crazy.
"We've got some Boos here," I warned. "Look alive, and keep a weather eye!"
"I've got your back," said Grace, also preparing for a fight.
We looked across the balcony, and there we saw fifteen or so Boos, floating around in a circle. After readying the Poltergust, we exchanged a nod and crept forward.
"That scaredy-cat Luigi and his redhead pal have made it this far," they sneered. "Oh, we're so frightened! I guess it's our turn, then. All right, Boos, let's assume our real form. But first, how about giving them a little scare?"
The Boos vanished, only to reappear, completely surrounding us.
"Get away!" snapped Grace as another scream escaped me. "Get away, all of you!"
The Boos held hands and flew around us, faster and faster, until I was completely discombobulated. Then, I felt myself being lifted up—
Grace and I now stood on another balcony, with two unicorn ice sculptures on each side.
"Where'd they go?" asked Grace. Then, her eyes widened. "Oh, J—s!"
She grabbed me and rolled me out of the way, just as a ginormous Boo crashed just inches from us. I yelped, my heart in my throat, as the two of us hopped to our feet and faced this ghost down. Our eyes met, and we spoke the word at the same time.
"Statue!"
I turned on the Poltergust, and Grace helped me pull Boolossus—our name for this monster—toward one of the unicorns, aiming for the sharp horn on the top of its head. Upon contact with the horn, Boolossus popped like a giant balloon, and it was just the fifteen Boos again. I absorbed the Ice Elemental Ghost floating near the statue, and with a loud cry, Grace and I attacked the Boos with ice blasts, freezing them and enabling us to vacuum them up.
What was left of the Boos reformed into Boolossus. Courage zinged through my system like electricity as Grace and I dragged Boolossus toward another one of the statues, disassembling him into the smaller Boos, freezing them, and sucking them up. As Boolossus shrunk, the Boos making him up became more wary of the Poltergust and tried to avoid us, but all I could think about was why I was here and why I was still fighting, rather than running home and jumping under the covers of my bed. Boolossus would try to collide with us, but we'd leap aside in different directions. He caught on to us and began targeting one or the other. That didn't stop us, either. When separated, the Boos also barreled into us directly. They might be small, but they packed a lot of hurt! However, whenever they managed to hurt us, we hurt them right back.
After what seemed like hours, we captured the last Boo. Laughing, I spun Grace around, the two of us celebrating a job well done. We acquired another key, and something told us that we were approaching the final stretch, so we returned to Gadd's lab to recharge.
Becky was waiting for us with two plates of food.
"Thanks," I said, taking my plate and sitting someplace quiet to enjoy the meal.
Once I'd cleaned my plate, I helped myself to yet another glass of wine, while Grace drank down some Kool-Aid and once again hit the showers. And I thought back to my brother in that painting, his face contorted with panic and hysteria, beating wildly on the glass and screaming. About what Madame C said—was it possible? Was Koopa really in cahoots with this King Boo character? Even after what happened, I shouldn't have expected our truce to last for long.
I poured myself another glass of wine.
"Easy there, Luigi," cautioned Becky. "You won't be any good to Mario drunk."
"Relax," I assured her. "I have a very high alcohol tolerance."
Gracie emerged from her shower, dressed in fresh clothes, her violet eyes sparking with a sense of purpose. I raised my wine glass to her. "Thanks for helping me get this far," I said.
"We're not done yet, though," she said. "I have some idea of what Koopa's like. Hardheaded and stubborn and lusting over a woman who told him 'no' repeatedly."
"That's—one way to put it," I huffed.
"I can understand why he teamed up with someone to go after Mario," said Grace.
"When I saw him like that, I just…"
"You love your brother very much," Gracie said softly. "I see it in you. You adore him, you look up to him—you're jealous of him."
I nearly spat out my wine. "How do you know that?" I asked.
"I figured things out in what you've said—and what you haven't said," explained Grace. "For as long as I can remember, I've wondered why you've been relegated to the Player Two slot. I've imagined how constantly being the second player must've made you feel. And in conversations, Mario's name is likelier to come up first. Wh—why haven't you talked to him about this?"
"It's not that simple," I said. "Telling him how I feel will make me come across as selfish and entitled. Mario's the perfect hero, brave and strong and rising to the occasion. I'm barely any of those things, remember?"
"You told me that you hate ghosts," said Grace, "and yet here you still are, fighting them."
"Yes."
"And—the Professor, Rebecca and I really didn't have a part in that. We didn't make you stay. Yeah, we gave you the tools necessary to survive against these ghosts, but the fact that you stayed and didn't run—that's all you, Luigi."
I considered this.
"Look at all these ghosts you fought! The scary ones, like Bogmire and Boolossus—they made you scream and yelp, but you kept on fighting! To me, that's being brave and strong and rising to the occasion!"
"For Mario," I said.
"Yes! Yes, L! For Mario! For your brother—for the one who grew next to you in your mother's belly, the one's who's stuck with you ever since you entered this world! For—him."
"For Mario," I repeated, in significantly stronger voice. "For Mario. For Mario! For my big bro! I—I can do this! I'm gonna do this! I'm gonna fight Koopa and his Boo friend, and I'm gonna free my bro!" My voice softened. "Whatever it takes."
"Whatever it takes," smiled Grace.
"Whatever it takes," we said together.
I knocked back the last of my wine and set down the glass. "Hang in there, Bro," I said. "I'm coming for you. Those ghosts can just try and stop me."
Becky and Gadd stood there and watched us, smiling in approval.
Hand in hand, Grace and I went back into the danger zone and entered the attic, the iPod freshly charged and playing music on shuffle. We were hardly in the middle of the attic when everything was lit of in a brilliant flash of lightning, accompanied by an explosive clap of thunder which made both of us jump.
Then, all the lights went out.
"Blackout," I said, whipping out my flashlight and turning it on.
My Game Boy Horror went off.
"Yikes, what a blast!" exclaimed Gadd. "Are you two all right?"
"We're okay," I replied. "Thank you."
"If memory serves, there's a backup generator in the beaker room," said Gadd. "The two of you need to head over there and turn that generator on."
"Thank God I've brought a flashlight of my own," said Grace, fishing a small light out of her purse and clicking it on. "Thanks for checking up on us, Professor."
"You're welcome," said Gadd.
He hung up, and Grace and I started toward the Breaker Room, our flashlight beams skimming every inch of the areas we passed, in case something tried to sneak up on us. The lightning strike had caused Gracie to put away her iPod for safety reasons, so we moved forward in complete silence, except for the sound of my humming, which had grown increasingly jittery and off-key. Do it for him, I reminded myself, the words becoming a survival mantra. Do it for him.
Did I mention that the blackout caused the mansion to become infested with ghosts? Well, it did. However, the vision of Mario's sweaty, bruised and panicked face filled me with a surge of courage I'd never experienced before.
Once Grace and I fought our way to the breaker room, the door was locked. Becky contacted us on the Game Boy Horror, telling us that a ghost named Uncle Grimmly must've taken the key, and that we could find him in a room with mirrors. Using that information, Grace and I thoroughly searched every room which had even one mirror, finally striking gold in the Wardrobe Room. Uncle Grimmly was just floating there, doing nothing.
"Nobody will find me because I'm old, cranky and by gum, people are afraid of me!" he boasted.
We proved him wrong by advancing on him. He tried to scare us with his wail, but while he was doing this, we flashed him with our lights, and after a brief struggle, we got him into the Poltergust. As he was sucked in, he dropped the key to the Breaker Room.
Once we unlocked the door, Grace and I strode inside and wasted no time finding the backup generator, giving a collective sigh of relief as we turned it on, causing light to flood the room. Grace put away her flashlight, and we were once again free to listen to her iPod.
And we stormed that mansion with a vengeance! The timid plumber and the rookie ghost hunter became a juggernaut, capturing the last of the Boos and clearing out such unwanted company as the Clockwork Soldiers, Sue Pea, Jarvis and Sir Weston, along with some regular ghosts and some treasure. Nothing could stray us from our ultimate objective—nothing! We simply refused to be tormented anymore!
There was one portrait ghost who attacked by painting pictures of regular ghosts and then siccing them on us in waves. We had the unpleasant experience of encountering him in the Artist's Studio, where he introduced himself as Vincent Van Gore. His "creations", as he called them, attacked us in groups of three. There were Gold Ghosts, Purple Punchers, Blue Twirlers, Red Grabbing Ghosts, Red Ghost Guys, Garbage Can Ghosts and finally, Purple Bombers. These seven varieties of ghosts gave us a fight—and a fright—to remember, while Van Gore sat back and laughed. But he stopped laughing once Grace and I sent his beloved creations into the Poltergust where he belonged. We sported bruises, cuts and burns, and we were royally p—ed off.
So was Van Gore, who started throwing a hissy-fit over what we did to his "art". Unfortunately, his rant made him vulnerable to the Poltergust, and in short order, we sent him off to join his creations. Good riddance.
Van Gore's capture also gave us a key. The final key. The key that would take us to the Secret Altar! I stared hard at the key before closing my fist around it.
"I'm coming, Big Bro," I said. "Hold on. Hold on. Hold on…"
He was counting on me. Whatever confronted me at that altar, I was gonna give them one Hell of a fight! I wasn't about to let Mario down!
"Hey," said Grace.
I turned to her.
"I have faith in you," she intoned solemnly.
"Thank you, Grace," I said. "That's all I need to know."
In order to get to the Secret Altar, we had to descend into the basement, and then walk through this creepy hallway. Some ghosts tried to get in our way, but they were quickly dealt with. When we got to the door, I took several deep breaths and once again looked at the key in my hand.
"For Mario," I said.
"For Mario," said Grace.
I inserted the key in the lock and turned it until I heard a click. Then, I pulled open the door and determinedly strode inside, Grace walking next to me.
"I don't plan to give up my favorite decoration," King Boo was saying. "I like Mario where he is."
"What a sick S.O.B.," Grace spoke in my ear. "Let's do Mario a favor and hit him extra hard, yeah?"
I nodded, and we marched further into the Secret Altar to confront the Boo king.
He floated before Mario's prison, so close that they practically touched, taking delight in the way he bashed his fists against the walls to no effect. Mario was sweating now, his pupils completely dilated, his cap knocked out of place and his hair disheveled, strands of it sticking against his forehead. All the while, he was screaming curses, threats and insults at King Boo, but I suspected that it was more out of hysteria than bravado. All the while, King Boo just floated there, leering sadistically at my bro and making mocking faces at him, licking his already-long tongue at him.
I stood there watching him, steaming. Grace had her fists clenched. I couldn't help but notice that the freckles on her face seemed to dance when she was upset or angry.
"Ahh—I could just stare at my Mario painting for hours," King Boo sighed in pleasure. "It's true what they say about fine art—it takes utterly refined sensibilities to truly appreciate it! The way you shriek and rant and rave, Mario—I find it so—satisfying. Perhaps that's merely because I remember how much trouble you've caused me in the past." And then he leaned forward and licked the canvas with a slow, deliberate upward stroke. Mario recoiled in disgust.
Now I was really p—ed.
"Seriously, though," King Boo went on, "who would actually believe that mansions get given away in contests?! Talk about stupid! What do they feed you Mario Bros anyway, gullible soup?"
Okay, yes—the joke's on me. Let's not make a big deal over it.
"Your brother came all this way just to get turned into a painting. It's just terrific. However…" King Boo turned and fixed his evil gaze on me. "…This Mario painting looks lonely. I must have a Luigi painting as well! Then my gallery will truly be complete!" He cackled, a truly chilling, menacing cackle.
Setting my jaw, I aimed my Poltergust right at his face as Grace lanced him with a death glare.
"I'm not afraid of you, fool!" guffawed King Boo. "I fear only that infernal Poltergust 3000 you carry on your back! Stupid machine! But I'm a KING among Boos! I swear that I shall fear no mere housecleaning device! I must say—I despise the way you SHWEERRPP-SHLOOOORP-WHOOORPP-SHELEEEOOORG-vacuumed up all my friends! Don't imagine that I'll flee—I'll fight you like a true Boo! Now join your brother—inside the painting!"
With another unnerving cackle, King Boo flew inside Mario's painting. Grace and I felt an invisible force dragging us along with him. Then, we, too, disappeared into the canvas—
…except, we were warped onto the mansion's roof, with bright orange flames surrounding us.
"Mario!" I called. "Are you there?"
"Watch out!" we heard his voice shout.
BOOM!
We were nearly sent off our feet as something crashed onto the ground behind us. I whirled and found myself staring into the smirking face of the Koopa King. It was just as Madame C had predicted.
As Grace and I dodged the gout of fire he belched at us, I started envisioning what would happen should we lose this battle. King Boo selling Mario-as-a-painting to his new friend, perhaps—where he'd be hung in Koopa's room as a prize. Forced to watch Koopa "exercise his right" with Peach once he took back the MK once and for all. And then, he and all of his minions and allies lining up for "target practice"…
Just like that, what was left of my apprehension vanished, and in its place was cold anger. I would die before I'd let that happen. Fist raised, I lunged toward my longtime antagonist.
"Wait!" shouted Grace, stopping me from landing a punch on him. "Something's off!"
And indeed, something didn't look right with Koopa. He moved stiffly, almost mechanically. His appearance seemed—artificial. And then he summoned spiked balls—a move I'd never seen before.
"Hey, Luigi!" Mario's voice seemed to come from all around. "Try to catch one of those balls!"
As Koopa—if that was really him—rolled the spiked balls toward us, Grace and I snagged one of them in the Poltergust's suction and leveled it at our opponent. Something about his head seemed especially off. It was almost as if he was trying to adjust it—
Mario seemed to read my mind, for his voice commanded, "Aim for the head!"
"Fire in the hole!" shouted Grace as we launched the spiked ball at Koopa's head—which fell off. Revealing King Boo.
That wasn't Koopa at all! It was King Boo in a Koopa suit—thingy.
We wasted no time gawking, running forward and letting loose with the Poltergust. As King Boo struggled, the Koopa head fired ice balls at us, but we were able to lean out of the way while maintaining the suction.
After a while, King Boo broke free and retreated into the Koopa suit. Fight like a true Boo, my [bleep].
But he did fight hard. And dirty. He continued to belch and spew fire. He charged us like a bull. He sucked me into the suit's jaws, slicing me with his fangs, as Grace tried to pull me to safety. He punched and slashed his claws. But now that we knew it was just a suit, we were able to take him by surprise by shooting those spiked balls back at him, knocking off the head and exposing the Boo king.
"Hey, L," Grace said after a while, "have you ever reached that level in Super Mario 64, where you have to defeat Koopa by grabbing him by the tail and throwing him around?"
"Yeah," I panted. "Wanna try that?"
"Worth a shot," Grace breathily replied.
Dodging a stream of fire, and despite getting glanced by a spike ball, Grace and I ran behind the Koopa mech and grabbed it by the tail. With a small grunt of effort, I lifted the Koopa mech several centimeters off the ground, and Grace put in a considerable amount of elbow grease herself. Together, Grace and I swung the Koopa mech in a tight circle, slowly at first and then going faster and faster and faster and faster and faster still until our surroundings were blurred. At my command, we abruptly let go, the mech crashing hard into one of the pillars, with the head skittering a couple of feet from the body.
King Boo tumbled out, dazed. In seconds, we had the Poltergust trained full-force on him. We managed to suck away a good chunk of his HP before he recovered and leaped back into his suit.
The final battle was arduous and left us bleeding and in excruciating pain. But I could still hear Mario's voice, shouting encouragement, telling me again and again that he knew Gracie and I could beat King Boo. There was such hope and strength and confidence and—and relief in his voice, and in it, I felt energy, like a firebrand, circling around me. It was as if he was sending electric signals to me through our bond, motivating me to keep fighting on. And as I battled the King of all Boos, armed with nothing but a ghost vacuum and my wits and my devotion and a plucky teenage girl, I silently repeated those four words over and over and over again.
Do it for him.
Do it for him.
Do it for him.
Do—
It—
For—
Him—
"Luigi," Mario's voice was now calm and soothing. He knew he had nothing to fear anymore, and so did I. "You can do it, Lil' Bro. You—can—do—it. Just hang on. Can you do that for me, Lil' Bro? Just hang on. Hang on…"
I could taste my own blood. It trickled and dripped into my mouth, tangy and sweet and coppery at the same time. But I paid it no mind, gripping the nozzle of my trusty Poltergust to the point that my palms were sweaty. Grace's hands were soft and warm over mine, and I could hear her steady breathing as she stood next to me.
"What are you thinking about?" she whispered.
"My bro," I stated simply.
"I believe in you," Mario was saying as the fight raged on. "I've always believed in you. The day I had to scale that skyscraper to save Pauline, I saw you in the crowd. And that's what kept me climbing. And you shouted something—remember that?"
"Yes—I told you to weaken the I-beams once you were a safe distance away."
"That's just what I did. And it helped. You helped me save Pauline, Luigi. And it's you who inspires me to be the best I can be, so I can pick you back up when you fall down, so I can make you laugh when you're sad, so I can stick up for you when someone tries to badmouth you. You may not know it, and you may not want to believe it, Luigi, but you made me the working class hero I am today. And now, when I'm in a situation where there's seemingly no hope, I look to you. You kept me from breaking under this a—hole's torment, kept me strong while I was trapped in this painting. So—I know you can do it, Luigi. I know you can beat him. And no matter what may come between us, I'll always believe in you. Always."
My grip tightened on the Poltergust. Without even taking my eyes off of King Boo in his Koopa suit, I said, "Let's finish this, Gracie."
Sucking up one final spiked ball, we launched it into the mech, sending the suit falling backward and leaving King Boo exposed. This time, we hit him with the most powerful suction we could muster. And with one last push, the King of all Boos now resided in the Poltergust 3000 along with everyone else.
King Boo's bejeweled crown clattered to the floor. Grace picked it up and examined it before handing it to me. We stood there and watched as the Koopa suit collapsed, useless, into a heap.
"Wow," I said. "We did it. We beat him."
"No," said Grace. "You did it."
"Well, you helped come up with a few ideas," I said.
"That may be true," said Grace. "But I counted on you to stay with it. And you did. Way to go, Luigi."
I blushed and looked at my feet. "Th-thanks, Gracie," I said.
The two of us were transported back to the Secret Altar, where my Game Boy Horror started ringing.
"Luigi!" Gadd exclaimed when I answered. "You did it! Truly remarkable, my boy!"
"Oh, my goodness, Grace!" Becky chimed in. "Look at you, standing up to the Boo king himself!"
Grace tossed her head. "He didn't scare me," she crowed.
"Well done, both of you," said Gadd. "I supplied the Poltergust 3000, but you two ran with it all the way to the top! You made me so—sniffle—proud!"
We waited patiently as Gadd composed himself.
"King Boo didn't fight fair," I said. "He jumped into some sort of mech in Koopa's likeness, blew fire, punched, clawed and threw spiky balls at us."
"They were pretty big balls, too," added Grace. "You can say that we—defeated him using his own big balls."
Laughter.
"In all my years of ghost research, I've never heard such a fantastic tale," gasped Gadd. "And that career spans sixty years, mind you. Why, I still recall starting out as a youth who trembled at the mere thought of a ghost—TREMBLED, I tell you!"
"No, way," I said. "You were afraid of ghosts, too?"
"Indeed," said Gadd, "but I conquered my fear, just like you."
"Whoa," was all I could say.
"But—that's a story for another time. Grab your brother's painting and bring him to the lab!"
Grace and I turned around to see Mario slumped over in his artistic prison.
"Dio…!" I started forward, only to relax when I heard him snore softly and mutter about pasta-based foods.
Gadd chuckled. "The poor little guy's fallen asleep. He must've just collapsed with relief and exhaustion when he saw you arrive. I'll get the machine ready to return your brother to his rightful state, okay? I'll be expecting the three of you!"
He hung up.
Grace hung back as I approached Mario's painting, gently removed it from the wall and then raised it over my head with a triumphant laugh. Then, I tucked the painting under my arm, and Gracie and I practically skipped toward Gadd's lab.
Gadd and Becky were waiting for us when we got there, bearing handshakes and hugs.
"Thank God you're alive," said Becky. "Your friends and loved ones will be overjoyed to know you're safe."
"Over the course of a single night, you two have learned to rely on one another," mused Gadd. "Well done!"
"Only one night?" I asked. "Dio, it felt like forever."
"That mansion the Boos built has disappeared, but the treasure you've earned seems real enough," said Gadd. "Becky and I have no interest in such stuff, so go on and keep it."
"Wow—okay," I said.
"We know you're desperate for your brother back," Becky joined in, "but first, we have to take care of these last ghosts you've captured."
I emptied the Poltergust into the machine and stood back while it did its job. While Gracie went to "freshen up for the big reunion", I finished off the bottle of Moscato and devoured the Subway sandwich Becky offered me. Once Grace was done "freshening up", Becky offered her a Subway sandwich, too. We ate our meals silently while Becky helped Gadd reverse the machine's mechanism, which would turn the Mario portrait back into Mario.
"All right," Becky said finally, once the painting was in place. "Let's get this show on the road!"
Gadd started the machine, and the rest of us watched Mario go through the process backwards. I winced slightly each time Mario yelped or hollered, but I knew deep down that it was nothing compared to whatever King Boo had subjected him to.
With a THUNK and a muffled "Oof!", Mario landed on the other side of machine. I just stared warily.
"Go on," Becky said softly. "It's okay."
Gracie simply nodded to me.
Tentatively, I approached the grate. "M-Mario?" I uttered nervously.
Mario shot out of the machine like a rocket, sending me to the floor and briefly winding me. Kinda like a red rocket. A red—missile. Huh. Something like that would come in handy if there was another Smash tournament around the corner. But I digress.
"Mamma mia," I moaned as Grace helped me back up.
And there, right in front of me, was Mario. He lay face-down for a moment, legs swaying in the air, before flipping back over, the machine's frame around his neck, disoriented from his trip through the machine, banged up—but alive.
Alive—and free.
And looking completely ridiculous.
Forgive me, but I just couldn't take it anymore. The emotions I'd bottled up inside all night came bursting forth. I began laughing hysterically, laughing at the sight of my dizzy brother, a frame around his neck as Becky attended to him. Laughing at the fact that my brother was still in one piece. Laughing at the fact that I was in one piece. Laughing at the fact that—it was over.
Over.
I laughed and laughed and laughed. And I also cried. Tears raced down my face, snot running out of my nose, as I cried and laughed in pure relief. My shoulders shuddered, my chest heaved and my breath stuttered into hiccups as my emotions finally overpowered me and continued to rush in torrents. All the while, Gracie smiled on, and Gadd and Becky managed to pull the frame off of my bro.
Mario stopped swaying, and his senses returned. I guess he was following the sound of my voice, for he swung his head around and looked right at me.
"Luigi," he said softly. "Hey, hey. Luigi…"
Before he even had a chance to get up, I rushed over and fell to my knees beside him, throwing my arms around him and pulling him close. And then his arms rounded my body and encircled my back. His strong, red-sleeved arms. And he hugged me as tenderly as I hugged him.
"Luigi," he said again. "My Luigi—my baby bro—my brave, brave, baby bro…"
I really lost it then, shaking and sobbing in Mario's arms. My head on his chest, his warmth and protection encircling me. God, I felt so safe, so good, so refreshed between his arms. And his fingers began entangling in my hair, which only made me sob harder and clutch him even closer to me. I wasn't about to let him go again.
"Hey," whispered Mario. "It's okay. Don't cry…"
I was partly aware of Gadd shooing away his two colleagues so Mario and I could have a private moment together. I was also aware of my sobs beginning to subside, Mario's touch doing its job.
"Mario," I choked out. "Mario…"
"Oh, Luigi—now you're gonna make me cry!" And cry he did, right into my shoulder, which caused my sobs to start right back up. In Gadd's lab, Mario and I cried and cried and cried and cried in each other's arms, not giving a d—n who saw, savoring each other's presence and feel and essence and—everything.
"I—I—I almost lost you!" I managed to say, my breaths high-pitched and jerky.
"But you didn't," sobbed Mario, "and you never will. I swear it. Luigi—I'm sorry I put you through all that…"
"I'm sorry, too! I shouldn't have fallen for that scam! But let me tell you—I'll go through that again and again if it means seeing you safe and sound!"
"Luigi! My bro! You came—I—knew—you—would…"
And we just kept on hugging, kneeling on the floor of the lab, crying until we were all cried out.
I decided I'd tell him all about my adventure later.
Gadd, Becky and Grace walked back in as Mario and I picked ourselves up.
"Hey, Mario," I said, my voice a little jerky from crying. "I'd like you to meet my new friends…"
After introductions were made, Becky served Mario a hot meal, while Gadd and Grace fussed over the last of my wounds. As the last of the epinephrine left me, my body remembered that I had been up half the night. I was totally exhausted. Luckily, Gadd had a spare bedroom where I could crash.
"You and Mario took a hefty beating," said Gadd as he led me to my room. "I must insist that you both stay here for a least a week to get your strength back."
"Okeydokey," I said.
"Great," smiled Gadd, and then he left.
I stripped down to my undies before flopping onto the bed, snuggling beneath the covers. Then, I lay on the pillow and allowed myself to relax after arguably the longest night of my life so far.
The last thing I remembered before drifting off was Mario climbing into the bed next to me, once again wrapping me in his arms.
And we both fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
I have no more strength to write. I'll see you in a week.
Luigi
25 October 2001
MK
Dear Diary,
When the action is over, and we look back, we understand both more and less. This much is certain. Before the night of October 18th, I was merely the timid, cautious half of the Super Mario Bros. And after, I was the cautious but committed Mario Bro who'd rise to the occasion if a loved one was threatened. While Mario and I convalesced over the past week, word of that night's events began to spread. The Toads seemed to realize for the first time that I was just as resourceful as Mario and resolved to put more of their faith in me. I realized that I had more fortitude than I gave myself credit for and resolved to focus more on the sunnier aspects of things. It was a night that changed us, inside and out. I walked from place to place with a bigger skip in my step and a bigger smile on my face. Mario visibly showed greater caution going into certain situations, and he started coming to me for advice. As for young Gracie, she'd notched some hard-core ghost-hunting experience under her belt, with an added bonus of finally meeting one of her favorite video game characters in person. That should give the others at UCLA something to ponder over.
"Will I ever see you guys again?" she asked as Mario and I got ready to head home earlier today.
"Anything is possible," I winked at her, and she beamed.
No doubt, our paths would cross again.
My life up to this point can now be divided into two distinct periods: before the mansion and after the mansion. That mansion, for me, represented a tipping point, where I learned to tap into and embrace my hidden bravery. I was almost brought down, but I rose from the ordeal harder and stronger.
And with three new friends, but that's missing the point.
Mario and I suffered greatly that night, but we held fast and grew stronger. It wasn't inevitable. King Boo tried our souls—and through that trial—
—we overcame.
Luigi