Creepy Stories

Majora / Ben Died

I recently moved into my dorm room starting as a Sophomore in college and a friend of mine gave me his old Nintendo 64 to play. I was stoked, to say the least. I could finally play all those old games of my youth I hadn't touched in least a decade.

His Nintendo 64 came with one yellow controller and a rather shoddy copy of Super Smash Brothers and, while beggers can't be choosers, it didn't take long before I got bored of beating up LVL 9 CPUs.

That weekend, I decided to drive around a few neighborhoods about twenty minutes or so off-campus, hitting up the local garage sales. I was hoping to score some good deals from ignorant parents. I ended up picking up a a copy of Pokemon Stadium, Goldeneye, F-Zero, and two other controllers for two dollars.

Satisfied, I began to drive out of the neighborhood when one last house caught my attention. I still have no idea why it did; there were no cars there and only one table was set up with random junk on it. However, something sort of drew me there.

I usually trust my gut on these things, so I got out of the car and was greeted by an old man. His outward appearance was, for lack of a better word, displeasing. It was odd. If you asked me why I thought he looked displeasing, I couldn't really pinpoint anything.

There was just something about him that put me on edge. I can't explain it. All I can tell you that if it wasn't in the middle of the afternoon and there weren't other people within shouting distance, I wouldn't have even thought of approaching this man.

He flashed a crooked smile at me and asked what I was looking for. Immediately, I noticed he must be blind in one eye; his right eye had that "glazed over" look about it. I forced myself to look to his left eye, trying not to offend, and asked if he had any old video games.

I was already wondering how I could politely excuse myself from the situation when he would tell me he had no idea what a video game was, but to my surprise he said he had a few in an old box. He assured me he'd be back in a "jiffy" and turned to head back into the garage.

As I watched him hobble away, I couldn't help but notice what he was selling on his table. Littered across his table were rather...peculiar paintings - various artworks that looked like ink blots a psychiatrist might show you.

Curious, I looked through them. It was obvious why no one was visiting this guy's garage sale; these weren't exactly aesthetically pleasing. As I came to the last one, I noticed it looked almost like Majora's Mask, with the same heart-shaped body with the little spikes protruding outward.

Initially, I just thought that since I was secretly hoping to find that game at these garage sales, some Freudian bullshit was projecting itself into the ink blots. However, given the events that happened after, I'm not so sure now. I should have asked the man about it. I wish I asked the man about it.

After staring at the Majora-shaped blot, I looked up and the old man was suddenly thereagain, arms-length in front of me and smiling. I'll admit, I jumped out of reflexa nd laughed nervously as he handed me a Nintendo 64 cartridge.

It was the standard gray color and had no label. Someone had written Majora on it in black permanent marker. I got butterflies in my stomach as I realized what a coincidence it was and asked how much the old man wanted for it.

The old man smiled and told me I could have it for free. He said it used to belong to a kid around my age that didn't live here anymore. There was something weird about how he phrased that, but I didn't really any attention then. I was too caught up in not only finding the game, but getting it for free.

I reminded myself to be a bit skeptical since this looked like a pretty shady cartridge and there was no guarantee it would work. However, the optimist inside me interjected that maybe it was some kind of beta or pirated version of the game. That was all I needed to be back on cloud nine.