Chapter Text
Something was wrong. Severely wrong.
He wasn’t the ordinary clientele to get kidnapped- and neither was the cotton candy fruitface or the super sewer bros the kidnapping type! He hadn’t even DONE anything-
Already beaten and kicked into prison was enough, wasn’t it? They didn’t get him because he’d tried escaping, right? His hole couldn’t grow deeper anyway. That didn’t make sense. His brain had been rattling like an overheated engine for the past few hours. He’d watched and listened to them during the plane ride, but they acted as if this was normal. As if ripping him away from his father was a good deed, and just a break in the journey to spreading love and peace in the damned mushroom-invested Kingdom.
To ashes with it all. He should have launched the Boomsday weapon earlier. Just eliminate it all. There was nothing on this planet worth saving anyway…Besides his father.
It could have just been the two of them. No one else. No annoying magical advisors, no brown-nosing minions, no arrogant loud-mouthing humans, no stupid aggravating classmates- No one. Well, perhaps the few that lived on Planet Bowser- but that didn’t count much. He could send them away any time as well.
A perfect dystopia. An end always meant a new beginning. The universe would have forgiven him, Junior thought darkly, back to what Rosalina had spat at his face. For he could have been the one to bring a new era. Freed of all these aforementioned scumbags.
Now he was reduced to nothing. Weaponless, which also rendered him powerless against them. He hadn’t signed up for this. Suddenly, the cell they had kept them in appeared quite cozy. Despite it being the result of all of his failures and anguish- But ya couldn’t be picky nowadays. The housing market was cruel, and the living space was narrow. As a prince, that hadn’t been his problem, but as a prisoner, he was forced to come to terms with tiny living conditions, apparently. Although even most tiny houses come with a kitchen. Talk about a scam. At least they weren’t paying for their cell… He was drifting off.
He’d followed them outside the plane cooperatively. Not because he was scared -whoever EVER dared to insinuate that was to be personally flambéed by him- but because he strategically decided to play along until he knew more. Gathering intel so he could eventually get help. The moment he’d realized they were shipping him back to the Mushroom Kingdom, he had felt his heart drop. He might be away from his father- but that was hardly anything new.
Frankly, this was just another challenge to prove to his father how capable he was on his own. He’d get out of here. And then he’d break his father free again.
He followed them and realized the castle could be seen in the close distance, they had landed on a field- which was unexpected, but nothing he couldn’t work with. He could be adaptable. He was competent to lead a kingdom. This was nothing. Even though he grew wary around the human trio. He’d lose a fight. And something felt weird about fighting Mario after he’d saved his life. He had some honor code and morals he wanted to obey. Perhaps that kidnapping meant they were even. So now he could contentedly make murder plans without feeling guilty. That was just fine with him. Served them right for daring to mess with him.
“Junior.” He heard someone call his name, not even bothering to figure out who. He’d been trapped in his thoughts- staring into the oblivion of the Mushroom Kingdom. He realized he hadn’t moved down the steps of the plane, frozen on the last step. There was a strange weight tugging at his legs, urging him to stay. A childish desire to turn and run. That was ridiculous. The plane wouldn’t start and take him back. There was nowhere to run.
The facts sprawled out clearly before him- it made him feel stupid things. And he wasn’t stupid. Or childish. So, he jumped down the last step with the bravery that was expected of the Koopa Prince.
The humans looked conflicted- their faces looking old and weird when they were expressing themselves. He decided he hated humans. Four of them he got to know. All four of them were absolute whiny, hideous cheaters. Perhaps wiping out Mario’s home planet was the next best thing in line for getting pulverized.
His legs carried him further ahead, realizing they were going down a small path leading up to a small house. Huge letters with the word ‘Mario’ were written on top. His eye twitched, and his eyebrows furrowed, his hands shaking. What was this?! Brought not to the castle but to those twins of torment?! The sole reason his father wasn’t happy, and neither was he?!
He’d prided himself on keeping his temper in check so far. Suddenly, he was ready to throw caution out the window. He had expected another prison- a dark cell with cold stone walls and leaking pipes. The unexpected angered him. Why could nothing ever be easy? Predictable? Constant.
Luigi was unlocking the door. Peach was next to him, and he felt her flowery scent cloud him, the smell suffocating him the longer he had to inhale it. Behind him, he heard Mario shuffle, surrounding him like a group of lionesses hunting.
If this was a trap, he was about to step into it. For once, there wasn’t some grand blueprint he could follow. All kinds of responses to similar situations he knew were utterly useless. There was a clicking, and the door was opened. Luigi opened it, gesturing inside.
For him. He was gesturing for him.
Junior stared emptily ahead into the space, arguing with his head, instincts, experiences, and knowledge. It was a battle. Battles were familiar. He could function on a battlefield. Seeing this as just another fight gave him the needed confidence to step past the doorframe. Everything else would have made this harder. Reality was despised by him, who wanted to acknowledge that they were led into the private homes of their enemies? That was even worse than a base. It always was.
He stepped inside, his eyes immediately scanning the room for escape routes- memorizing where the windows were, the door, the furniture. He wouldn’t stay here. This house was the epitome of calm before the storm. And he hated getting wet and the sound of thunder. No way would he stay put and let them torture him here. He’d need to run.
The boom of the door snapping shut jolted him out of his line of thought. Something was moved into perspective- a button pressed. The door shutting cast him in dread. Nothing of this was good or right. He didn’t even remember anything they had told him before about their invented reasons for keeping him here. Just empty. A silent battlefield, in his mind.
Silence in battle was bad. Real bad. It meant danger- death.
Mario and Luigi walked towards a door, opening it to reveal stairs. A basement.
Wasn’t that the setting of all too many horror movies?
He was too young to be murdered. He was supposed to do the killing.
He needed to get out of here.
That was the last conclusion he’d made before he tried to twist around and run back to the door. Instead of the door, there was a metal rod embraced by pink silk coming his way. He retreated faster than he would have liked. Ducking and hiding were easier.
The darkness of his shell gave him only momentary relief from his panic. He stayed inside, cursing himself for not even reaching that darn door. He felt the vibrations of steps, there were movements- Soon he felt the ground beneath his feet slipping, noticing he was just sliding across the floor. Passed like a hockey puck. Now he was at Mario’s feet. His gaze was wide and dry, able to stare directly down the basement stairs.
At least there weren’t any shouts coming from it. Good chance he didn’t need to share his cell.
His own sarcasm did little to calm him.
He heard voices, talking. About him. Adults loved talking about him when he was there. Maybe he should listen, so he could judge and intervene. He didn’t think they deserved it, though. He would rather listen to himself.
“Please- come. There is no reason to be stubborn now. We’re not gonna torture you down there.” Mario had the nerve to joke. Trying to get down his guard before killing him. Getting his face in front of his shell, all trusting. He should spit fire at him. However, all the air was sucked from his lungs. He didn’t want to move. Obviously, it wasn’t any problem for him to move. He just enjoyed seeing their lives made more difficult.
“Junior? Don’t worry, there is nothing down there to hurt you.” Luigi sweetly chimed in, and it made the kid wonder if this was a bet, a promise, or a threat.
He wanted to stay inside his shell and sulk and frustrate them. But he didn’t like the thought of them picking him up or rolling him around like a bowling ball. He didn’t want them to touch him.
“It’s just a plain old basement we spent some time renovating, so you’d have a better stay than in prison.” Luigi elaborated further, lucky for him that he was actively paying attention right now.
Does that mean they got beef about which of them has the nicer cell? Cool, what did that mean? A sink that didn't leak? Well, that would be exceedingly disappointing in the house of plumbers anyway. Perhaps it was a blanket? The standard was really low.
It wasn’t curiosity that brought him to peek out, but the quiet sigh Mario made that let him know that at least one of them was losing his patience. And by the stars in the night sky- he didn’t want to know what that meant. Not today, after it became clear he wasn’t escaping right now.
Numb and controlled by his panic and defiance, he uncurled from his shell and glared daggers at them before speeding quickly down the stairs, thinking it an advantage when he got to look at the basement first. He heard them all trample after him in a frenzy, finding it odd because he sure was not going to escape down here. There wasn’t much of anything besides shelves stuffed to the brim and many boxes. There was a door that stuck out like a sore thumb. It was a metal door and didn’t fit the aesthetic of the whole house. A reinforced door. Smart. That meant no one would be able to hear his screams of pain- he wondered if he was the first victim.
Luigi opened the door and stepped inside, excitedly waving him over. Why was he so happy? Was it his true psychopathy showing? He had never suspected those round-nosed fools to be such freaks.
Peach was getting closer with her smelly perfume, which he disliked, and thinking it was too late for himself at this point in time, he just stepped forward blindly. His father wouldn’t run either.
Truthfully, nothing could have prepared him for the state of this room. His horrific paranoia was a useless waste of energy, as he took in the sight of a poor imitation of a children’s bedroom. It was bare yet held the necessities. A few toys- goofy bedsheets- he didn’t believe this wasn’t a trap. It still was. Just one adorned with glitter and bows. Right?
Luigi, next to him, brimmed with energy and joy as he started yapping about what was in the room and why he decorated it this exact way.
Junior stopped listening. What did he care? This room could have been an actual dungeon, and he’d have given a flying damn. It didn’t matter. Something was wrong, and he didn’t belong here. Nothing else mattered. This was still a threat unraveling itself slowly.
Even though he was widely relieved to finally have a softer bed again.