February Eve
ZD District Attorney
- Joined
- Mar 21, 2010
- Location
- USA
A short ficlet that uses a lot of creative license, but I wanted to write something darker than usual for Halloween, and this was a good setting to twist the story in.
Game: Majora's Mask
Rating: PG for dark themes
He felt stabs of pain run up his legs, and his knees threatened to buckle every time his feet hit the ground. His skin was roasting despite the sweat that drenched him and he was so dizzy that he felt as if he’d faint the moment he stopped. He’d lost the ability to catch his breath ten minutes ago and had gasped ragged gulps of air since. Even tripping didn’t stop him – a force beyond himself compelled him to get right back up, palms bleeding, and keep running.
Finally he allowed himself to pull of the mask and stop, and as expected, he collapsed immediately. He pulled a bottle of spring water out of his sack, almost dropping it as his arms began to shake as the adrenaline receded. He gulped it down, almost forgetting until the last moment to save some for Tatl. He was too tired to tease her as she flitted around the mouth of the bottle by pretending to trap her in it.
Masks had been fun in Hyrule. Mostly they were just disguises. Certainly, the powers of the mask of truth could be weird – the first time he’d put it on in a crowded area he’d been startled and spooked to hear the sudden cacophony of thoughts cascade down on him. He’d taken it right off for fear of going crazy and only used it sparingly after that. Still, it didn’t physically hurt him.
But everything was different in Termina. Each mask had a price. The blast mask seemed to burn a little deeper each time he used it. The all-night mask had dried his eyes, and the insomnia had made the next day feel as though he were wading in slow motion through a waking nightmare. Even a mask that should seem harmless, like the Bremen or Kamaro mask, was unsettling as rather than him feeling in control, it felt like strings were directing him like a puppet.
And those were just the regular masks. Whenever he wore the Deku mask, he always kept moving, because whenever he stopped it felt like the ground was trying to reach up at him and pull him down until he was rooted to the spot. The Goron mask pulled down on him, as if he would just crash through the crust of the earth one day and his weight would carry him down to the other side. The Zora mask alternately made him feel like he was drying out or drowning. And that was just the act of wearing them – he could never remember the process of taking them on or off, but he wasn’t sure he would want to, as Tatl said he freaked her out because he screamed every time.
She was fluttering near his head right now. He knew by this point that she cared about him, not that she’d ever admit it, but it was hard to read her emotions at times like this. Whether she was feeling sympathy for him, or anxiety because of the task at hand, or fear for the well being of both of them – considering the circumstances, it was probably all of the above. She finally spoke up.
“We don’t even have two days left,” she said, and Link thought he detected a note of apology in her voice. It was unnecessary. He knew as well as she did what still had to be done, and he’d do whatever it took to make sure they succeeded.
He stood up, stumbling a bit, and Tatl flitted about in worry. But moments like this were what the masks had been made for, he expected. He picked the bunny hood back up and placed it back on his head. Immediately his legs began pumping on their own accord. He’d never truly caught his breath during his break and began gasping heavily again. The speed at which he flew over the ground made him want to pull back, but resisting the mask only hurt further. He forced himself to push himself forward even more instead.
As he looked up and saw the moon inch ever closer, he thought to himself that he had no choice. It was either run – or run out of time.
Game: Majora's Mask
Rating: PG for dark themes
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The Price of Masks
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The Price of Masks
****************
He felt stabs of pain run up his legs, and his knees threatened to buckle every time his feet hit the ground. His skin was roasting despite the sweat that drenched him and he was so dizzy that he felt as if he’d faint the moment he stopped. He’d lost the ability to catch his breath ten minutes ago and had gasped ragged gulps of air since. Even tripping didn’t stop him – a force beyond himself compelled him to get right back up, palms bleeding, and keep running.
Finally he allowed himself to pull of the mask and stop, and as expected, he collapsed immediately. He pulled a bottle of spring water out of his sack, almost dropping it as his arms began to shake as the adrenaline receded. He gulped it down, almost forgetting until the last moment to save some for Tatl. He was too tired to tease her as she flitted around the mouth of the bottle by pretending to trap her in it.
Masks had been fun in Hyrule. Mostly they were just disguises. Certainly, the powers of the mask of truth could be weird – the first time he’d put it on in a crowded area he’d been startled and spooked to hear the sudden cacophony of thoughts cascade down on him. He’d taken it right off for fear of going crazy and only used it sparingly after that. Still, it didn’t physically hurt him.
But everything was different in Termina. Each mask had a price. The blast mask seemed to burn a little deeper each time he used it. The all-night mask had dried his eyes, and the insomnia had made the next day feel as though he were wading in slow motion through a waking nightmare. Even a mask that should seem harmless, like the Bremen or Kamaro mask, was unsettling as rather than him feeling in control, it felt like strings were directing him like a puppet.
And those were just the regular masks. Whenever he wore the Deku mask, he always kept moving, because whenever he stopped it felt like the ground was trying to reach up at him and pull him down until he was rooted to the spot. The Goron mask pulled down on him, as if he would just crash through the crust of the earth one day and his weight would carry him down to the other side. The Zora mask alternately made him feel like he was drying out or drowning. And that was just the act of wearing them – he could never remember the process of taking them on or off, but he wasn’t sure he would want to, as Tatl said he freaked her out because he screamed every time.
She was fluttering near his head right now. He knew by this point that she cared about him, not that she’d ever admit it, but it was hard to read her emotions at times like this. Whether she was feeling sympathy for him, or anxiety because of the task at hand, or fear for the well being of both of them – considering the circumstances, it was probably all of the above. She finally spoke up.
“We don’t even have two days left,” she said, and Link thought he detected a note of apology in her voice. It was unnecessary. He knew as well as she did what still had to be done, and he’d do whatever it took to make sure they succeeded.
He stood up, stumbling a bit, and Tatl flitted about in worry. But moments like this were what the masks had been made for, he expected. He picked the bunny hood back up and placed it back on his head. Immediately his legs began pumping on their own accord. He’d never truly caught his breath during his break and began gasping heavily again. The speed at which he flew over the ground made him want to pull back, but resisting the mask only hurt further. He forced himself to push himself forward even more instead.
As he looked up and saw the moon inch ever closer, he thought to himself that he had no choice. It was either run – or run out of time.
Can't wait for the next chapter
