When the Cowardly Lion Roars

Found

A great gasp tore from my lungs as I jerked myself awake, soaked with sweat from head to toe. This nap had been far from a pleasant one, soured by visions of Elh/Bogmire and the echoes of Mario's screams. My heartbeat ticked along at a brisk pace, and my mind spun. Rest could wait. I needed to get to Mario, and I needed to get to him now. I smoothed my hair, rolled out of bed, dressed and breezed into the lounge area.

Gadd looked surprised when he saw me arrive. "Are you sure you're up to it?" he asked.

I grabbed the Poltergust and slid it on. "I have to be," I replied, and then I was out the door.

After a short converse with Thad, Brad and Chad, I made a quick stop in the boneyard to water the plant I'd uncovered. Then, I headed over to a door with a clover shape on it, which the green key unlocked.

I was now in a large courtyard, with a big fountain in the middle. Perfect—I could replenish my Water Element. While I was doing so, I was nipped by some bird-like ghosts, but I hardly felt their attacks. More worrisome were the hanging ghosts who surprised me and chucked bombs in my direction. I handily defeated them, watered some plants to earn treasure, and took a look around the courtyard.

A twinge arose in my chest, and then in my belly, followed by a warmth I usually experienced in Mario's presence. My bro was nearby. I was close to finding him. Our bond served as a compass, guiding me closer.

"Mario?" I called out. "Mario...?"

Silence. Then—

"Luigi...?"

"Mario?" I repeated, making sure I wasn't just hearing things. "Mario, I can—feel you..."

"Luigi..."

I saw a well not far from the fountain, the warmth in my chest and belly pulling me closer to it. The closer I was to the well, the more intense the feeling.

"Hey, Luigi..." It was as if Mario was speaking in my ear.

Beside the well was a birdhouse, and stuffed in that birdhouse was a slip of paper. Curious, I took the slip of paper and opened it—and then my heart skipped two beats.

There was writing on the paper—Mario's handwriting! I could tell that he'd been in a hurry while writing this letter, as if knowing the Boos were closing in on him. The message within was urgent and laconic, written in Italian. Translated into English, it read: Luigi—King Boo is very dangerous. He controls all of the ghosts. Watch out!

My stomach dropped when I saw the smears of blood on the paper, darkened to a dull maroon. That meant Mario had been in the Boos' clutches for a while! I cursed myself for not uncovering this letter sooner, and then I felt a soft touch on my shoulder, as if Mario was attempting to reach through our bond and comfort me.

"I know you're here, Mario," I said, "but do you know I'm here?"

An echo coming from the well gave me my answer.

"Hey, Luigi! What's the hold-up?!"

"Mario...!" I gasped. I'd never heard his voice sound so distressed before!

"Mario, hang on! I'm coming!" I yelled, quickly finding a ladder and using it to descend into the bottom of the well.

The air smelled damp as I hurried along a short pathway toward a golden light. Drawing closer, I saw that the light came from the mouth of a lion statue. The mouth was just large enough for me to poke out my head and glimpse—what was it? An altar? It looked like an altar, with lit candles placed every which way and two pillars near the middle of the room. There were more lion statues, and the carpet and the walls were decorated with red and gold.

But in the center of the altar—

I found him—

My big bro—

Trapped in a portrait.

I nearly stopped breathing.

This was a Mario I hardly recognized. The brave, heroic figure I looked up to was now helpless and at the mercy of a villain who had no sense of morality. I gazed into his eyes and saw panic, frustration and pain flashing in his dilated pupils. Fiercely, but in futility, he beat his fists against the wall of his prison.

"Get me outta heeeeere!" he screamed.

The back of my throat froze, and I could barely move as I assessed my bro's condition. Bruises and cuts spattered his face. He sported two black eyes, one eye swelling up. Slashes and bloody bite marks marred his arms and torso, and I could make out a few burns, as well. The defensive wounds on his knuckles assured me that he didn't go into the painting quietly. But it didn't change the fact that his fighting skills were no match for the Boos.

And now, he was their toy, trapped in a painting, in a haunted mansion, with no one to hear his screams, to rescue him.

No one—except for me.

It was up to me.

Tears blurring my eyes, I reached out a hand toward my imperiled bro. I wondered which was worse for him—the physical torture the Boos had no doubt subjected him to, or the psychological torture of not knowing my whereabouts or well-being? Was his time perception different in that painting? Was time and space at a complete standstill? I wasn't sure if I wanted to find out.

Mario's desperate cries seared through me, his breathing ragged and high-pitched. If I could, I would've punched through that lion statue, pulled Mario out of that painting and made a run for it. But I couldn't, and that added onto the pain.

"Mario..." I said, praying that he'd sense my presence and not give up hope. "It's okay. I'm here. Don't be afraid. I'm gonna get you out of this. I promise..."

I covered my mouth, choking back a sob. This was all my fault. I fell for this stupid trick, and Mario was paying the price. I made a vow to always keep him safe. I swore it. And—

And—

I was still keeping to it. Swallowing my fears. Fighting a ghost baby and the personification of this mansion's terror and dread, among other ghosts. Exploring this haunted, godforsaken mansion and looking for clues. I'd gotten Mario into this, but I'd also get him out—or die trying.

"Mario," I whispered. "Help is on the way. I will get you out of that painting. And nothing will stop me."

I punctuated that promise by blowing a kiss toward Mario.

And when I made that promise, I meant it from the bottom of my heart.