Work Text:
It hurt.
Everything hurt.
Antasma could only stay there, frozen, unmoving.
"I mean you're an idiot!"
The pain he was feeling was unlike anything he'd ever felt before, worse than anything he'd ever felt before.
Shallow, rapid breaths, while his heart slowly and painfully pumped blood through his veins, as if it were using all its strength stopping itself from falling apart.
His eyes were locked on the spot where Bowser stood just a moment ago.
The Koopa King lied to him, used him and cast him aside the moment he had nothing more to gain, threw him to be killed by Dreambert and the brothers.
Bowser had assumed, as well, that the Bat King would do the same if given the chance.
"You thought you were using me? ME?"
But Antasma never did, he never lied to, used or took advantage of his partner (had they ever been partners?). Everything he said, every single word, was nothing but the truth. Antasma meant everything he said, even if it sounded strange or unbelievable.
Vhen I said I vanted to give you the vorld, I meant it.
What Antasma wanted the most was freedom, to be able to spread his wings and do anything he wished whenever he pleased. Freedom Bowser gave to him.
I vanted to rule this vorld vith you!
But Bowser wanted none of that. He wanted someone he could use, someone who he could throw away without remorse once they had outlived their usefulness.
In hindsight, there had been signs that the Koopa King wasn't trustworthy, but Antasma had been too... infatuated to notice.
Something —his mind— started to crack like ice under pressure.
His hands were shaking as his plans, desires and ambitions slipped through his fingers just like the Dark Stone did when it turned to dust.
His chest began to burn like wildfire as his lungs struggled to catch air.
Antasma had been stupid to trust Bowser.
It had been stupid of him to get attached.
It had been stupid to involve Bowser in his plans.
It had been ridiculously, recklessly stupid to fall in love with him.
Antasma should have kept his guard up, should have paid attention, should have protected his heart like he promised himself he would.
But he had been careless, he had forgotten, and now everything was falling apart.
Stupid, careless bat.
Antasma had given Bowser everything, and that was how the Koopa King repaid him: by throwing him to the wolves.
"Buddy, I was playing you like a bat fiddle!"
Bowser really took him for a fool.
I love you! Antasma thought. His eyes burned and his vision became blurry, but he refused to sheed a tear. He wouldn't cry, he couldn't cry. Then, he amended: I loved you! I vanted to be vith you! I vanted to rule this vorld vith you! I never planned to betray you!
"Such a betrayal." Dreambert's voice sounded drowned and distant to Antasma's ears, like he was underwater. "I pity you, Antasma."
The prince's words made the Bat King's pulse quicken, his heart pumping now hot, boiling blood through his veins, and he felt his pulse rushing in his ears.
Anger, especially at his long time enemy, was easier, more familiar, to him than the overwhelming, agonizing pain that ripped through his entire being.
You pity me?
Dreambert felt sorry for him.
And the last thing the nightmare wanted or needed was Dreambert's pity. He had enough of that to last a lifetime.
Centuries. It had been centuries, ten centuries, a thousand years, a milenium, since Antasma and Dreambert last saw each other, last fought one another. Antasma had changed, grown stronger, and yet it felt like history was repeating itself.
What little remained of his mental stability after centuries of loneliness and being played and tossed aside by the Koopa King shattered like glass, and the Bat King snapped with a loud, high-pitched shriek of fury.
"Save your pity!" Antasma hissed with an animalistic snarl. "Save it for Bowser!"
He was bluffing. Both he and Dreambert knew it. There was no way Antasma could beat Bowser, even not taking his love for him and his pain, grief, rage frustration,heartbreak- into account, not while the Dream Stone remained in the Koopa King's possession.
"But before I take him..." Antasma hissed, holding onto the image of a terrifying villain he had cultivated over the passage of the ages despite the pain and vulnerability the Bat King had already shown in front of the prince and the heroes, despite them knowing Antasma wasn't taking any of the recent events well. "Dreambert... I vill... deal... vith you!"
The prince saw right through his bluff. Dreambert wasn't scared of him, he barely even flinched at his old enemy's threat, and that only served to enrage Antasma further.
The fall of his kingdom, a thousand years of neverending nightmares, and he still didn't take Antasma seriously?!
How. dare. he?! The Bat King was alone against very powerful heroes, he had no Dark Stone, no Dream Stone and no partner, but he was still powerful, still a threat, still a being worthy of terror, a creature that striked fear in the faint of heart. He was still Antasma, the King of Nightmares, in the name of the stars, and he was going to make Dreambert regret coming to face him.
For a moment, all his pain turned to rage. And the prince, his old foe, his rival his most hated person hisformerbestfriend- was the perfect outlet, the best way to deal with the overwhelming emotions that threatened to slip though his carefully crafted facade of never-faltering confidence.
But that facade was already breaking, if it wasn't already broken, wasn't it?
Without more warning, Antasma lunged at the prince, who just barely managed to avoid the nightmare's attack.
"So it comes down to this, doesn't it?" Dreambert's question was rethoric, "Alright then. Let's settle this once and for all!"
Antasma's only response was to bare his fangs at the Pi'illo in a feral snarl, before throwing himself at his old enemy again.
The prince shielded in the nick of time to block the nightmare's attack, and suddenly, both long time foes and once friends close as brothers got caught in a harsh, brutal brawl.
Antasma growled with frustration. The Pi'illo prince had grown strong, they were equally matched. The Bat King wasn't as superior to his former friend as he would've liked to think.
Bowser's betrayal stung. Together they could've crushed those annoying heroes, they could've had the world in their grasp. But it was never meant to work, was it?
After all, villains always lost.
"Is that all? Come on!" challenged Dreambert, "I know you can do better than that!"
It was then that it hit the nightmare with the force of a sucker punch to the stomach, his life was already over. He stood no chance against the brothers, not without the Dream Stone or (a shriek of fury and grief caught in his throat) Bowser. He was completely powerless against the plumbers.
But...
A clawed strike hit the Pi'illo prince on the shoulder, and he hissed in pain.
Antasma wasn't powerless against Dreambert.
Indeed, his life was over, but the nightmare most certainly wasn't going down quietly.
You vant to see better? I vill show you better!
Once again, Antasma wished Bowser had trusted him enough to fight by his side. Maybe together they could've beaten Dreambert and those pesky heroes without losing their lives.
Then, Antasma's lips curved upwards as an idea came to mind.
He had a plan.
Not his best, unfortunately, but it would do.
Keeping a toothy grin, Antasma flew away from Dreambert, to the prince's confusion. Then, in a puff of purple smoke, the Bat King returned to his regular form. The heroes took a fighting stance, ready to join the fight if Dreambert showed any signs of needing help.
But they wouldn't get the chance, Antasma would make sure of that.
The nightmare raised his arms above himself and worked his magic. The air grew thicker and, slowly, a dream portal opened behind him. Unlike other dream portals, his was a mix of black, dark purples and dark blues, and a thick, threatening aura emanated from it. It was poluted by his nightmare energy.
He'd practiced. A lot. The Bat King spent countless hours opening and closing dream portals, going in and out of the dream world, without even stoping to rest or even breathe. He wanted to make sure he could open the portals whenever he wanted, to make sure he would never be imprisoned in the dream world again.
The Bat King looked down at the Pi'illo prince, feeling a brief pang of satisfaction at the shock and fear his senses detected. He could practically taste Dreambert's rising horror.
"SCREEYE." Antasma let out a loud shriek, although it was supposed to be a laugh. That was something he could never control —even when he actually laughed there was always an echo of his shrieks—, but it didn't matter anymore. Soon everything would be over. The message got across perfectly, anyways.
The nightmare turned back to Dreambert, whose teeth were clenched in disbelief. The Bat King could almost hear the prince wondering: how?
So Antasma answered the unasked question.
"I can open dream portals vhenever I vish now... for that is vut I vished from the Dream Stone."
His grin widened. Maybe he could give a fair warning... though he knew it would be ignored as soon as he spoke it. It would add to the pleasure of executing his final move, because Dreambert would be too reckless to listen.
"In the dream vorld, I vill be at full strength." Antasma hesitated for a heartbeat before adding: "I haff changed Dreambert, you haff been warned."
And with that, the Bat King flew into the portal.
Dreambert rushed to the entrance of the portal. "No! Stop!" He yelled. Before any of his friends could stop him, Dreambert leapt into the portal after Antasma.
Right into a trap he would never forget.
"Dreambert!" Starlow shouting his name was the last thing he could hear before emerging into the Bat King's lair.
The brothers tried to follow, to join Dreambert in his fight against Antasma, but the nightmare was quick to close the portal before anyone else could even think of aiding the Pi'illo.
The sheer stubborness and idioticy of the prince didn't fail to stun him. Who did he think Antasma was? Someone who would lie down and let opportunities pass him by, someone who didn't fight with fang and claw for his goals?
Someone who would let betrayal and heartbreak get the best of him?
When Dreambert followed him through the portal, he couldn't imagine the many years, decades, centuries Antasma had spent trying to make himself a being worthy of terror.
Dreambert felt a chill go down his spine. This dream world was much more haunting than any other, and the sheer evil and nightmarish energy made him nauseous. But the greatest evil wasn't anywhere to be seen.
A shadow moved at great speed behind him.
The prince turned around, and saw his old enemy, his arms folded and his bright golden eyes the only light in the dark purple, nightmarish world. Antasma looked tired and, if Dreambert didn't know better, he would've said scared, resembling a wounded animal. But the nightmare was still grinning, showing his glistening white, sharp fangs to the Pi'illo prince.
"Antasma!"
"Impressive." The Bat King echoed what he'd said before, out there in the real world. "Brave as ever, Screembert."
The old, mocking nickname made Dreambert glare, but the nightmare didn't seem bothered by the hostility in his former friend's eyes. In fact, a brief gleam of amusement lit up Antasma's exhausted expression.
The nightmarish air thickened, so much it made breathing difficult for the Pi'illo and, much to Dreambert's confusion, it began to swirl around the nightmare. It made the Bat King's grin widen.
Antasma was out of his mind, insane, depraved, he could admit that freely. Maybe Bowser betraying him had set a couple of screws loose, brought up repressed emotions.
The Bat King's scratches and bruises the prince gave him during their fight in the real world slowly disappeared. The blood drops on his purple fur dried as the small wounds they came from closed. It took Dreambert a moment too long to realize what was happening.
The nightmare was absorbing the nightmarish energy of the twisted dream world, feeding off it and growing stronger with every passing second.
Antasma locked eyes with him, and the cruel and twisted pleasure in those golden orbs mixed with pure agony and madness made Dreambert's blood freeze in his veins.
The Bat King was done for, all of them could see it. There was no way for him to leave the fight alive. If Dreambert didn't finish him off, the Mario Brothers would.
But Antasma had never been one to just lie down and resign himself to his fate, to surrender and accept defeat. They wouldn't be here, facing each other once again, if he had been.
No. The Bat King refused to go down without putting up a fight, just like he had all those years ago, when the Dark Stone shattered and turned into dust under his claws. When he turned all the Pi'illos into stone and took them down with him.
This was Antasma's last stand, the moment he decided he didn't want to die without giving Dreambert and the Mario Brothers a brutal, merciless fight.
And the prince fell for the nightmare's trap.
Seeing the Pi'illo begin to realize what mess he got into, Antasma grinned from ear to ear.
"Skreeheehee." The Bat King let out a high-pitched chuckle mixed with a loud screech that made Dreambert's ears ring, "Brave, Dreambert, but foolish, just like last time."
The nightmarish air warped in his presence.
Antasma unveiled his true, complete form.
The Bat King could get used again to that look of terror and fear.
And oh, he had forgotten how delicious it felt to finally sink his claws deep into the prince's flesh.
Crushing his old enemy only took a couple of minutes, and that was being generous. Dreambert had always been a decent fighter, but he had nothing on Antasma. The Bat King had fought and bled for every smidge of power he possessed, had found a way to break the bounds that kept him chained to the dream world, had become so powerful many deities were no match for him.
Defeating the Pi'illo wasn't a challenge. In fact, it was a guaranteed victory.
His very last victory. His final stand.
Even with what was a crushing victory in his grasp, Antasma didn't free the Pi'illo prince or make it easy for him. Instead, the Bat King indulged himself a little.
Antasma couldn't be the only villain that used torture as a way to manage difficult emotions, right?
He'd learned to create nightmares of his own long before his imprisonment in the dream world, even before he stole the Dark Stone. But it was only recently that Antasma discovered how delicious and wonderful it felt, how it helped ease his anger and frustrations whenever they ran too high.
Dreambert ended beaten up and his mind broken badly enough that he could barely move, let alone fight, to Antasma's mild disappointment.
Only when he considered himself satisfied did Antasma release the shaking Dreambert and throw him out to the real world through a dream portal.
He left it open. With the Pi'illos free, they could hunt him down until they caught him or he, exhausted, surrendered. Better finish it quickly and go out fighting. Maybe he would spare his pride the wound.
Live fighting. Die fighting.
The Bat King never gave up. That was one of his defining traits, something he was deeply proud of.
Whatever happened next, Antasma didn't have it in him to care anymore. He was as good as dead. There was no way he could get out of this fight alive.
At least he could give those annoying heroes some scars to remember him by.
Getting beating to a pulp wouldn't be nearly as painful as Bowser's words. It wouldn't hurt as much as the knowledge that whatever the nightmare thought there'd been between him and the Koopa King —respect, friendship, love, he wasn't even sure what he thought they had— hadn't been real. It wouldn't cause the same agony that realizing he'd been played, used and thrown away by the only creature he'd loved in literal ages did.
His chest burned, even breathing was painful, and his vision became blurry. Everything hurt, even things he didn't know existed. Hot and humid tears started to fall down his face, despite his effort to stop them.
He was crying, for the first time in centuries. The nightmare hadn't even known he'd still been capable of it.
The Bat King hated how well Bowser slipped past his defenses and destroyed him from within.
Antasma wished he could hate Bowser. It would be easier for him, for the wound in his heart to close, even if a scar remained.
He wished he could pray for the Koopa King's downfall.
Antasma could never move on. How was he supposed to move on from a love that took everything from him and left him to die? Bowser would constantly haunt his mind.
Therefore, Antasma would find a way to haunt his dreams until the Koopa King joined him, until Bowser, too, fell at the mercy of the brothers.
Jaydes sent him to his eternal punishment not even an hour later.