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This was probably stupid.
It was probably nothing. It was probably a scam, hence Mario’s decision to leave anything of value back at his house. No one gave away whole entire houses as a prize, least of all to random people who weren't expecting it in the first place. Still, it was worth checking out. If it was something that could cause problems later, he wanted to know. It wasn't too far from Toad Town, just on the outskirts. Honestly, he was a little surprised he hadn't seen the place before.
The hideous old house sat on ten acres of land, supposedly. The property line was clearly indicated by the sudden shift from green, healthy grass to lifeless dirt accentuated by the occasional clump of dried-up dead weeds. Jagged, rotting, dead trees jutted out of the ground, clawing from the dirt upwards and into the sky like skeletal hands reaching up from their graves. Though the afternoon had been sunny and pleasant, the moment he stepped onto the yard the wind picked up until it was nearly whistling, the sky darkened to a somber blueish gray, and the temperature dropped enough for his breath to cloud up in front of his face. He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered as he walked up the dirt path. It was too quiet there, too still. Up until that point Mario had been accompanied by the melodic chirping of little birds and the shrill trilling of cicadas. Everything had suddenly gone deathly silent. As he cautiously surveyed his surroundings, he came to realize that the deathly silence was caused by a total lack of any wildlife. No living plants, no insects, not even a mushroom sprouting from the lifeless soil. He was the only living thing around. The dead trees and dried-up weeds suddenly seemed much more sinister than they had before. Every nerve screamed at him to turn back, but it was clear the place needed to be investigated. Something was obviously wrong there and he wanted to figure out what before anyone got hurt.
The house.
He grimaced when he saw it. He hadn't even opened the door yet and the smell of dust was already overwhelming. The hulking gray structure loomed over him and the cracked, dust-caked windows seemed to glare down at him as if the house itself wanted him to turn around and leave. The paint was peeling, the boards were splintered, and the roof was missing countless shingles. “What a dump,” he thought to himself. After he'd taken it in, he began marching up the steps to the porch. Each step groaned and creaked under his weight, and he was afraid the porch would give in. As he tiptoed up to the front door, the back of his throat tightened, his heart thumped rapidly, and every hair stood on its end. A terrible, rotten feeling began pooling up in the bottom of Mario’s gut. Something was very, very wrong here, and he was determined to fix it before anyone could get hurt. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head and placed a gloved hand on the worn bronze doorknob. Despite his intuition, he turned the knob and pushed the door open. The hinges screeched as the light from outside began to spill across the ornate floor of the unwelcoming foyer. Treading carefully, he crossed over the threshold and into the house. Before he could pull the door shut, it slammed behind him, causing him to flinch. He placed his hand on his forehead.
“Who am I, Luigi?”
The only light was what filtered in through the curtains from the outside. Mario could barely make out the outline of a lamp sitting on a dresser placed against the back wall. He pulled the chain on the lamp, and the room lit up with a click. Though it was dim, it was still much easier to see. The first thing Mario noticed was the foreboding set of wooden double-doors. The doors, which he assumed lead out into the rest of the first floor, were hard and thick and decorated with elegant heart-shaped carvings and stained a soft, floral green. Under any other circumstances he would've thought the hearts were sweet, but just then he found them ominous. Though he knew he was supposed to wait for Luigi to get there first, curiosity got the better of him and, without properly thinking it through, he tried the door. No sooner than his hand was on the door handle, the air in the house changed and the room went completely black. It felt as though the mansion was floating through space, like if he looked out the window he would find nothing but oblivion. Worse, he was now very aware of someone in the room with him. For perhaps the first time in his life, Mario listened to his instincts and quickly went for the exit. He was just going to go back outside to wait for Luigi so that they could investigate the place together, that way they might be safer. Last time they had talked, his twin had been right behind him.
He stumbled through the dark, waving his arms in front of him looking for the front door. Oddly, it did not seem to be where he remembered it. Exhaling slowly, he looked around. It was too dark and the air was thick and stale. Something was very, very wrong. He felt around the walls hoping to find another door or even a window he could crawl through. After several minutes of searching, his stomach began to churn and horror gripped his throat. He was not in the same room as before, and wherever he was there were no doors and no windows. He slowly became frustrated, darting around the room and pressing against the smooth walls with his hands. After a few minutes of that, he took a deep breath and sat down with his legs folded in the center of the floor. Cradling his chin, he attempted to think of where an escape could be. He was trapped, that was obvious, but he’d never met a trap he couldn’t crack. Perhaps there was a hidden switch overhead, or a loose tile on the floor somewhere. The sound of faint giggling snapped him out of his thoughts and he quickly rose from the floor to put up his guard. A soft, violet glow began to illuminate the room, revealing that he was still very much in the foyer. He stepped backwards and drew his arms in close, his brow creasing in confusion. The giggling rattled through the air yet again, this time louder and closer. It was as though his blood had frozen in his veins when he realized the shrill sound was coming from behind him. When it rang out again, it was in his ear. Mario spun around sharply to face the source of the laughter.
He found himself nose to nose with a boo.
Normally, Boos would cower under the gaze of the living. This one, however, had no problem staring deep into Mario’s wide, terrified eyes. They were not like the other creatures Mario had encountered in his travels. They weren’t very open to reason most of the time and, being intangible, they could not be properly fought, only scared off with bright light. The best he could do with them was keep his eyes on them and avoid getting too close until he got far enough away that they wouldn’t follow. Under normal circumstances, Mario found them to be nothing more than an above-average nuisance. Now that he had no light source and nowhere to go, however, they were much, much more sinister. This Boo was not afraid to watch him back, leaving him completely at the thing’s mercy. His lips moved, but no sound came out. Slowly, he drew backwards and away from the Boo. The Boo did not follow, and only watched him cruelly.
“I oughtta know what to do here."
He looked around, his heart rate picking up more and more as countless Boos began to appear from thin air, circling around him until he had nowhere to go. He was now thoroughly surrounded. He could feel his hands beginning to shake.
“Why don't I know what to do here?”
Mario squeezed his eyes shut and assumed a defensive stance, desperately doing the only thing he knew how to do when he was cornered. He steadied his feet, positioned his shoulders, and swung at the nearest Boo. Of course, his fist hit nothing but air as his arm passed straight through the creature’s form. Though it did nothing, he continued swinging at them anyway, punching at the air with all of his might until he tripped over a loose floor tile. He quickly pushed himself up off of the ground and spun around, hoping to find some way out. There had to be a way out. There was always a way out. His breathing was getting heavy and tears pricked the corners of his eyes. He was getting scared. Not nervous, not frustrated, but scared, and it felt as though all of the oxygen had been pulled from his lungs. Once he blindly made his way back to the door, he turned the handle desperately only for the door to be completely stuck. Dropping any composure he’d had before, he began banging his fists against the oak with all of his strength. He cried out for Luigi, for the princess, for anybody until his voice began to feel hoarse.
As he coughed, he turned around to find the sea of boos parting to make way for their master. It stopped right in front of him, imposing over Mario in such a way that made him feel as though he was going to scream. Horror dawned in the back of his skull, tugging at his features until his eyes widened and his jaw hung slack. Try as he did to look fearless in the face of this monster, he had no doubt that he looked just like a scared kid. This wasn't his first encounter with an entity fitting this one's description, an oversized boo with a crown perched atop its head. This one, however, filled Mario’s core with an unbearable feeling of dread. He felt like crumpling under its horrible violet gaze, but somehow he stayed standing. He was not like the other boos, or the other enemies resembling this one that he’d fought in the past. This was not an impression in an enchanted painting in the princess's castle or a pale simulacrum born from Bowser Jr.’s brush and palette. Mario could not beat him with his hands. The monster laughed, its tongue lolling to the side and dripping with luminescent purple slobber. Once again, he pulled on the front door with all of his weight, and once again it did not move. He yelped as he realized he was being lifted up off of the floor by his ankle. Nausea rose in his belly when he realized the greater boo- the King Boo- had caught him with its tongue.
“No,” Mario cried, “No, no!” The boo only laughed. A horrible, raspy, guttural laugh that resonated through the foyer’s walls. It dragged Mario back towards the doors with the heart-shaped carvings, where two regular-sized boos awaited with a fancy red and gold frame that was, very concerningly, empty. Mario squeezed his eyes shut. The feeling that came next was nothing like anything he’d ever felt, not painful, but not pleasant, either. Every cell, every atom of his mass felt as though it was being liquified one by one, only to begin reconstituting just as slowly and just as rapidly.
That was that. His world was now a clean and even thirty inches tall, twenty inches wide. It was frigid, and when he moved it was as though he was swimming through deep water. Despite the friction, he proceeded to bang on that window with his fist as loudly as he could.
“Luigi... Where are you?”