Stepping around the shattered glass that littered the floor warningly of the gloomy entrance, Luigi was hit with a realization.
He was part of a game.
He didn't know why he'd never given it much thought before now; but suddenly it hit him like a ton of bricks. The letter - of course it was fake. This whole thing was a sick trap.
Professor E. Gadd hadn't wasted much time questioning Luigi's presence - he was more than eager to suddenly have a pair of young and willing hands to help with ghost catching. For that was his whole business: catching, studying, and collecting ghosts in different environments. When the mansion had suddenly appeared out of thin air, it had been like a dream come true.
But Luigi knew better than to think that the mansion was brand new. Every aspect showed signs of long years of use and abuse; the cracks in walls, the boarded-over doors... it was an endless enigma wrapped in doubt as far as he was concerned. This mansion was ancient - and it had once served as house and home to more than a few residents over the decades.
Then why had it been given to him? Who could have sent such an awful note?
Luigi had never been here or done anything in his life to deserve a dusty old mansion out in the middle of nowhere. He'd never entered any contest, never wronged anyone that he could remember... so why?
Why had this all happened? Why him?
...Or was it fate?
Shaking his head of the awful thoughts that only served to creep him out, Luigi tried to think on something else. For a time Luigi had been wondering where exactly the 'real mansion' was. The few upper rooms he had explored were small; surely they could only account for a fraction of the mansion's size. Where was the rest of the place?
Upon returning back to the mansion and seeing his next destination, he soon had come to the logical conclusion. And he found himself dreadfully right: entering the pair of double doors across the main entrance on the ground floor, where his shadow was cast by lightning every time he opened the front doors, he came to a hallway. And not just any hallway like the west wing had been; this one was enormous, a maze of corners and long, trailing paths lined with boarded doors wherever he looked. Why were so many blocked off? What could they possibly hide...?
Stepping inside with a dreadful shiver, Luigi rubbed his arms. No, it wasn't just his nerves - this place was cold. The air inside was so frigid and stagnant that he could actually see his breath forming in dust clouds on the air.
Matches well with the whole feel of it, he thought gloomily. It almost seemed unnatural, as if in some way the spectral presence kept the area cool on purpose. Luigi could almost swear at that moment that he heard a low, ghostly hum; similar to whooshing air, but kind of different at the same time.
The mansion was breathing.
With a gasp, he jerked away from the doors and flashed his gaze back and forth, both ways down the hall; but of course he saw nothing. Creepy noises weren't as fun if you could see who was making them.
The emptiness of the hallways itself was intimidating; not just because they seemed to resonate with sound, but... Luigi hated to be alone.
And now here he was.
Taking a chattering breath, Luigi clutched his flashlight and started forward down the hall, not knowing where on earth he was headed. He only knew he must.
The path split two ways before long, making him feel even more overwhelmed; what if he got lost in this maze? What if he became utterly trapped and couldn't find his way out? Every inch looked the same here; same old red carpets with peeling yellow wallpaper. The old fashioned feel did little to calm him down.
However, here he did find something of interest, to use as some sort of landmark, perhaps: one end of the fork was blocked off entirely, piled floor to ceiling in large crates. Tilting his head doubtfully, Luigi crept forward to inspect them. What could they be holding...?
His thoughtful musing was abruptly shattered when a dreadful scowl hissed in his ears directly behind him. And it was directly behind him; so close it could have been inches from his head.
"BAAHHHH!!"
"EEYAAAAAAHHH!!" Luigi jumped a mile and scrambled backwards, landing on his rear in the process. Bumping into the wall, he just looked up and saw, hovering over him, a small purple ghost; it wasn't nearly as frightening to look at as some of the others had been, but he had long, smiling fangs that made up for it. With a snarl, he stared at Luigi with a look of disdain and possibly hunger, and then vanished back into the darkness as quickly as he'd arrived.
Crab walking backwards a few more paces just to be safe, Luigi panted heavily and stared, watching for further signs of it. It wasn't until several long seconds later that he decided it was really gone.
Rising shakily to his feet, Luigi lifted his hat and wiped his sweat-soaked forehead. He hated jumpscares more than anything.
Well, almost.
Any self-confidence he'd had out the window, Luigi warily continued on down the hallway - the one that wasn't blocked off. Here he found more boarded doors - room upon room of things denied him.
It almost made him feel discouraged; well - more discouraged. If so many of these places were inaccessible, how would he expect to find Mario? He could have been behind any one of them!
Luigi tried to relax a bit, just enough to calm down and listen to his inner conscience. If Mario was somewhere nearby, surely he would know.
But here Luigi felt nothing. Like the same emptiness in the hallways surrounding him, his heart felt nothing of that familiar vibe he felt when his brother was near; he was completely lost. Everything here was shrouded in doubt.
Luigi found the loneliness terrifying.
Shivering as if it might freeze him in place, Luigi came to yet another two-way split and blindly chose to go left. He knew it may have been foolish but for some reason he barely cared.
Around the corner he soon came to a dead end, with a few boarded off doors surrounding. But this time, at long last, he found a scary sight: two of the doors were open.
Holding his breath, Luigi cautiously advanced forward towards the one in the corner, peeking into the darkness. There was an odd sound coming from in there - running water?
Frowning in confusion, Luigi slowly pushed his head further in, casting his flashlight ahead of him.
It was some little lavatory; an elegant sink stood against one wall beside a bathtub and shower. Evidently it was working too, because the water was on; and there through the light on the curtain was cast the attractive shadow of a young lady washing her hair.
Any other man might have felt instantly drawn or stricken; and the sight was human enough for sore eyes. But Luigi took one look and he felt a terror down to his shoes.
She had made no sound, and neither had he. Knowing better than to be tricked for an instant, Luigi quietly backed out of the room and replaced the door, heart thumping, in favor of the other door beside it.
Unless he had gone completely nuts, there would not - could not - be a young woman bathing in this mansion. A look at the situation from nearly any angle proved the improbability of it all.
Luigi was alone - and yet he wasn't.
~
Luigi honestly didn't know what to think upon his entrance into the next open room. It was large and spacious; and everywhere he looked there were grand musical instruments in the darkness: a harp, a cello, a xylophone, a grand piano... even horns and trumpets hung on the walls, as if a loving class used to practice here every day long ago.
Finding himself slightly more at ease at the sight of the beautiful antique orchestra, Luigi allowed himself inside. Watching his step carefully to ensure he didn't bump into anything, he wandered in the near-silence through the room, looking on each one; each seemed well-used and beyond it's time. He wondered how long it had been since they had last been played.
Almost as if to answer his question, a sudden note, loud enough to break the silence like a gong, sounded in the air from the grand piano. It was quickly followed by several more; a graceful little melody that floated at him through the darkness from all sides, sounding no less tuned than they might have been a hundred years ago.
Someone was playing the piano.
With a gasp, Luigi stepped back, raising his flashlight to the bench that sat before the keys. The little stool that had been empty only seconds earlier was now home to a ghostly young woman, perched at the piano with her luminous hands upon the keys. She was dressed in a dark red gown, almost as if she were the music teacher of old; and her pale blonde hair reached almost to the keys of her instrument. Upon feeling Luigi's beam she lifted her head.
Fixing him with keen yellow eyes, a slight smile played her lips. "Well, hello," she greeted, as if visitors were a common thing. Her glowing eyes and disposition were young and almost friendly; Luigi didn't doubt she was about his age.
Taken aback by her openness, he just returned the stare with wide blue eyes alight with fear. Quickly catching his disposition, the girl shook her head and chuckled.
"I am Melody, the spectral beauty of the ivory keys," she went on, introducing herself with an air of pride. "I suppose you would like me to play you a song?"
That was the farthest thing from Luigi's mind at that moment, but surprisingly, he found himself feebly nodding his head. Perhaps it was his most natural response, to go along with whatever she said to avoid being killed by her.
At his approval she did not seem to care about his hesitance to speak. With a quick breath, Melody turned again to her piano and, collecting herself for just a brief moment, began to play.
The lovely notes hit the darkness like bells as her fingers flowed along almost without touching it. It was actually quite pretty... and to her listener's surprise the tune was somehow familiar. He didn't remember where it was from... but he only knew that he had heard it before.
When the cute little piece came to a close a moment later, Luigi had slightly allowed himself to relax. Maybe, just maybe, she wasn't so bad after all.
Turning back to him with a face almost flushed with pride, if that was possible, Melody grinned. "By the way," she said, looking at him squarely, "I wrote that song. Do you know what it is called?"
Taken completely aback, Luigi just stared at her for a second as if she had a second head... which was a possibility he didn't want to consider at this point. She had written it?
"Um... I... "
Quickly becoming angered, Melody frowned. "You don't know? How can you not?!" she cried, clearly deeply offended at his apparent ignorance. "It is called Totaka's Song, and it is world famous! I can't believe your disgrace!"
Luigi, already hearing the warning go off in his head, just kept staring at her stupidly. Totaka's Song... somehow, that actually did sound familiar. But who...?
Turning to face him with a malicious glare, Melody grinned. "Well, then... perhaps you know this?"
With a single flourish, a hand danced across the piano, belting off six little notes that made Luigi's heart skip a beat.
It was their song... Mario's Song.
Upon hearing it something clicked inside him. Poltergust flying to his hand, Luigi turned his nozzle on her almost more quickly than she could process.
"How do you know that song?"
With a sly smile that spoke volumes, Melody shook her head and chuckled. "Oh, you silly boy. It's a shame. He is here, don't you know? You will soon fall the same way he did... unless I have something to say about it."
Abruptly, she slammed her hands down on the piano, sending music sheets fluttering through the air all around them. Momentarily surprised, Luigi paused and stared as they began to catch invisible drafts, flying about him on their own.
"Get him, my music sheets!" Melody cried, sending the wave Luigi's way. "We will write a new sonata, and then he will belong to us."
For a second Luigi felt completely surrounded. As the terrible feeling began to come back, he felt completely alone once again. Something was wrong with every one of these people; how foolish he'd been to think he could find a single likable soul. Ghosts were never likable, at least according to Luigi's old mindset.
In the last moment before the vengeful music sheets reached him, Luigi brought up his vacuum, ready to defend himself; and after their unfortunate succumbing to his machine, Melody was soon to follow.
~
Attempting to retrace his steps back through the dark, cold hallways from which he'd come, Luigi gripped his weapon tightly and tried to drown his thoughts. He knew he probably shouldn't be letting it burden him so; but in realizing what he was doing to these ghosts by his own hands, he couldn't suppress the tiniest feeling of guilt.
Was it wrong to capture the ghosts forever? What about the good people they had once been; the ones Lydia's husband had spoken of? Weren't these those tireless spirits?
But then... the man himself, and Lydia, too, in the end, had not seemed disturbed. Was he really the one meant to come here, catching the ghosts... and in doing so setting them all free?
...Free from what?
Deep in his musing, Luigi had unknowingly reached and passed the double doors from which he'd originally come, leading away to the entrance; and suddenly, he was snapped back alert by a single sound breaching the walls like a far-off siren. Freezing in his tracks, Luigi held his breath and listened - and the sound made his blood turn icy.
Somewhere through the walls, howling like some cross between a monster and a deranged lunatic, was a low screeching. The sound rumbled almost like a car; but then there was a higher, croaking aspect to it as well. It was very near the scariest thing Luigi had ever heard in his life.
Whimpering like a wounded puppy, he crept forward towards another pair of doors he'd stumbled across further down the opposite end of the hallway. He didn't think the sound was coming from this direction; so it seemed a 'safe' enough bet.
Carefully entering into yet another new room, Luigi held his flashlight like a lifeline as he glanced around, taking in the new dreadful sights.
At first glance it actually didn't appear very dreadful. Luigi had found the kitchen - and in fact, upon entering a small window on the west wall suddenly lit up, illuminating the entire room with white light for a couple of seconds.
The things Luigi saw in that brief lightning strike were mostly ordinary - a fridge, a stove, and the like. The not ordinary thing, however, was found at the kitchen sink: and none other than a tall, whit-clad man of a ghost.
At hearing his entrance the ghost suddenly turned. He had been visible right away, which surprised Luigi; but he could have guessed everything else. So this was the chef.
For about two seconds the two's eyes met. Then there reigned a short but immensely tense silence that nearly made Luigi want to explode.
The man had the same bluish skin as the other ill-fated humans had, and blonde hair and a passive expression. He wore some kind of pinkish apron over his clothes, and in his hand, a little surprisingly, was a real tomato. Apparently this one had kept on living as if nothing had been lost; as if still there were people who would be hungrily awaiting dinner tonight.
Or perhaps not, as Luigi considered a moment later as he suddenly found the tomato on the ground; staining the front of his clothes impressively after hitting him in the chest, the tomato was merely a handy weapon thrown at him like at any loser. Upon being hit and staring at the resulting mess, Luigi gasped as if his feelings had been hurt.
The chef only observed him with an oddly disinterested and possibly amused look, taking in the rather pathetic and messy little human before him. Still, if he'd still had his knives on hand instead, that tomato might still have been fit to eat right now.
The ghost of a chef said nothing, and made no attempts to speak. Neither did Luigi. Taking out his Poltergust almost like a sorrowful knight with his sword, he turned to the creature who was once a man and fixed him with nearly sad eyes.
The necessary deed done, Luigi stumbled back and sagged heavily against the wall, burying his face in his hands. He felt so terrible for these people... terrible even for the mansion somehow. He felt terrible of course for himself. He didn't know how any of this had happened, how he'd come to be here reduced to this state; but thinking on all he'd heard, all he'd seen, and all he might never see again... it was enough.
Forcing himself almost to the point of pain, he held the tears back as best he could.