Dark Is a Place
He had a smile like a bear trap.
As far back as Link could remember, the idea that Dark Link was a ghastly entity had been hammered into his skull. The petite, impressionistic hero of time had been told time after time, “avoid Dark Link”. It was almost a slogan among the Hylians – avoid Dark Link, avoid Dark Link, don’t question anything… just run. A phrase you’d find elders stitching on pillows. A mantra, a prayer. Avoid Dark Link.
And never before had the tiny hero ever questioned why their names were near identical. Never before had Link questioned the nameless elders who chanted the timeless hymn of precaution. Never before had he thought to connect point A with point B – they did have the same name, but one was a praised while one was feared, one was the hero and the other the villain. But what had made his counterpart so dark and dangerous?
The curiosity had consumed him.
So the hero had gone searching for the villain. It was not a pursuit fashioned for justice and righteousness, but a pursuit with the purpose of answering what separated light from dark.
The hero’s first instinct was to go where light was scarce. Was it wrong to assume evil dwelled within shadows? Light stopped questioning the morality of his assumptions when from within the shadows, he could see incisors as sharp as razors glistening against the murky floor. The hero came to a quick halt, letting his taupe boots sink into the swampy earth.
“I knew the day would come. I knew one day you would question the purity of your own heart. I knew one day you would doubt your elders, and you would seek the truth. What makes one half day and the other night? I can tell you one thing regarding your heart,” The shadow paused. Good could see nothing of evil except for his jagged teeth, which contorted themselves into a sardonic grin. Evil continues, “I can tell you that your heart is going to be the best meal I’ve had this decade.”
The hero scans the villain’s remark for the level of seriousness. Deciding that serious or not, he should not be here. Dragging his soggy boots through the damp dirt once more, the shadow filled the air where he had previously been.
He had a smile like a bear trap.
Before the command to run had reached his feet from his brain, hero found himself bound to his antagonist by his seemingly infinite strength. The evil scanned the good, looking for the perfect starting point.
Evil pushes a few flaxen locks away from Good’s ear before hoarsely whispering, “I knew you wouldn’t be able to combat the curiosity for too long.”
Without leaving the hero time to reply or interpret what he said, he lunges for light’s neck, peeling ribbons of skin away from his body leisurely and precisely. Gulping up lengthy flaps of hero’s skin like spaghetti, he licks his ashen lips and smirks at the horror painted on good’s face. Rivulets of blood dripdripdripping from his neck, the hero reaches up to touch where his skin once sat, unharmed, and winces at how much it pains him to touch his raw skin. Hero’s stomach begins to churn when he notices that in the slight gap between villain’s front teeth, in between those razor incisors sits chunks of his own flesh.
“You taste as sweet as your intentions,” evil cackles, before he begins to unwrap the layers of skin sitting between evil’s bloodlust and good’s heart. “As lovely as this conservation has been, dear, I simply cannot wait any longer for your heart. If you hadn’t waited so long to find me, we could have had a lengthier chat, but I’ve waited far too long for this. Call me selfish if you will, but that’s how the story goes.”
Right attempts to struggle from beneath Wrong, but the effort proves futile. Wrong stealthily removes his myrtle coloured tunic, not giving Right the slightest chance to escape from his grip.
Link had always had a small frame with protruding rib bones, but as he lay on the soggy ground in the shadows, his bones were even more visible. Dark Link had a tight grib on the brilliantly outlined bones, and Link braced himself for the inevitable. “Goodnight, hero,” the villain coos before pulling his two hands apart and ultimately taking the opposing sets of rib bones with him. The crack echoed against the mossy walls and the stone ceiling. “Rest in pieces,” the villain cackles, staring down at his organ-filled bounty. In between two puce lungs sat the prize. Evil sat there for a moment, examining Good’s heart. In comparison to the other victim’s, his was no different.
Dark Link took a hefty bite out of the heart, chewing hard on the stringy veins so that he would not choke on them. The taste was household and identical to that of the common peasants he had gnawed on to tide his hunger until the hero of time arrived.
His heart was no different than anyone else’s. So what made him a hero?
And never before had the tiny hero ever questioned why their names were near identical. Never before had Link questioned the nameless elders who chanted the timeless hymn of precaution. Never before had he thought to connect point A with point B – they did have the same name, but one was a praised while one was feared, one was the hero and the other the villain. But what had made his counterpart so dark and dangerous?
The curiosity had consumed him.
So the hero had gone searching for the villain. It was not a pursuit fashioned for justice and righteousness, but a pursuit with the purpose of answering what separated light from dark.
The hero’s first instinct was to go where light was scarce. Was it wrong to assume evil dwelled within shadows? Light stopped questioning the morality of his assumptions when from within the shadows, he could see incisors as sharp as razors glistening against the murky floor. The hero came to a quick halt, letting his taupe boots sink into the swampy earth.
“I knew the day would come. I knew one day you would question the purity of your own heart. I knew one day you would doubt your elders, and you would seek the truth. What makes one half day and the other night? I can tell you one thing regarding your heart,” The shadow paused. Good could see nothing of evil except for his jagged teeth, which contorted themselves into a sardonic grin. Evil continues, “I can tell you that your heart is going to be the best meal I’ve had this decade.”
The hero scans the villain’s remark for the level of seriousness. Deciding that serious or not, he should not be here. Dragging his soggy boots through the damp dirt once more, the shadow filled the air where he had previously been.
He had a smile like a bear trap.
Before the command to run had reached his feet from his brain, hero found himself bound to his antagonist by his seemingly infinite strength. The evil scanned the good, looking for the perfect starting point.
Evil pushes a few flaxen locks away from Good’s ear before hoarsely whispering, “I knew you wouldn’t be able to combat the curiosity for too long.”
Without leaving the hero time to reply or interpret what he said, he lunges for light’s neck, peeling ribbons of skin away from his body leisurely and precisely. Gulping up lengthy flaps of hero’s skin like spaghetti, he licks his ashen lips and smirks at the horror painted on good’s face. Rivulets of blood dripdripdripping from his neck, the hero reaches up to touch where his skin once sat, unharmed, and winces at how much it pains him to touch his raw skin. Hero’s stomach begins to churn when he notices that in the slight gap between villain’s front teeth, in between those razor incisors sits chunks of his own flesh.
“You taste as sweet as your intentions,” evil cackles, before he begins to unwrap the layers of skin sitting between evil’s bloodlust and good’s heart. “As lovely as this conservation has been, dear, I simply cannot wait any longer for your heart. If you hadn’t waited so long to find me, we could have had a lengthier chat, but I’ve waited far too long for this. Call me selfish if you will, but that’s how the story goes.”
Right attempts to struggle from beneath Wrong, but the effort proves futile. Wrong stealthily removes his myrtle coloured tunic, not giving Right the slightest chance to escape from his grip.
Link had always had a small frame with protruding rib bones, but as he lay on the soggy ground in the shadows, his bones were even more visible. Dark Link had a tight grib on the brilliantly outlined bones, and Link braced himself for the inevitable. “Goodnight, hero,” the villain coos before pulling his two hands apart and ultimately taking the opposing sets of rib bones with him. The crack echoed against the mossy walls and the stone ceiling. “Rest in pieces,” the villain cackles, staring down at his organ-filled bounty. In between two puce lungs sat the prize. Evil sat there for a moment, examining Good’s heart. In comparison to the other victim’s, his was no different.
Dark Link took a hefty bite out of the heart, chewing hard on the stringy veins so that he would not choke on them. The taste was household and identical to that of the common peasants he had gnawed on to tide his hunger until the hero of time arrived.
His heart was no different than anyone else’s. So what made him a hero?