Blood Whistle SMB3

Anymous/Unknown Author

Foreword
This is the recorded blog of a college student who was playing a modified version of Super Mario Brothers 3 on his computer. Shortly after submitting the last entry, he committed suicide in his dorm room.

June 5th, 2012
A friend of mine recently sent me what he claims to be a scary Super Mario Brothers 3 hack that he wanted me to try out (because he didn’t have the courage.) I started this blog to record my progress through the game. He got this from a site that’s no longer active, and I’ve seen some pretty scary occurrences with emulator games before. Just look at BEN. All of that aside, however, there was something definitely off about this ROM. Its title was SMB3:BW. Anyhow, I won’t play any today as I’m quite busy with college work and such, but I will definitely start tomorrow.

June 6th, 2012
I played some of the game today. Obviously my friend was misinformed, as I have played all the way through 1-3 and have found nothing irregular. All of the sprites, levels, and sounds didn’t have a fluke to their name. Wait… A secret! That must be how you have to unlock it! I swear you guys, I’ll find the warp whistle tomorrow and see what creepy secrets this game has to hide. Look for tomorrow’s post, it won’t disappoint. Maybe this will explain what the BW in the title stands for…

June 7th, 2012
I wish I hadn’t unlocked that secret. This game will be the bane of my existence. I’ll try as best as I can to explain what happened and what will certainly entail. I don’t know if any of you will believe me, but this sick mockery of one of my childhood favorites must be exploited and never be seen by the eyes of any other breathing man on god’s green earth. And Todd (what I’ll call my friend for the sake of privacy and possibly security), DO NOT send that link to anyone else. You’ll see why below. I entered the castle stage. Knowing its only secret was the warp whistle, I disposed of a dry bones before donning a raccoon tail. With a running start I was flying above the stage until I hit the secret area. My whole life before I hit up on my arrow keypad was completely different. I was happy. I was normal. I could wake up in the morning recognizing my own reflection, being absolute about my safety. Now it’s lies. All lies. I know that as of what happened today, my life will become an infernal hell in which every day will be a futile struggle to retain my own sanity. After finishing this wretched collage of electronic dejection, I will embrace death like a long lost lover with open arms. Now to get on with what had come to pass.

The blocks that lined the wall were a gloomy albeit polished obsidian black. Mario’s skin now had a grayish tint to it, but that wasn’t what was wrong with that picture. The music was a sped up version of the normal “bonus room” theme. Toad’s skull was cracked open and profusely bleeding, spilling blood onto the floor and making the room slippery like an ice stage. His mouth was also agape and spewing blood onto the floor. The blood had an eerie, reflective quality that SHOULD have been graphically impossible for an 8-bit game like Mario 3. I walked up to him to see what it is that he might say. What he had to offer is this:

Blood Whistle.

HEAR ITS CRY.

I then ran towards the chest to see its contents. The chest was drenched in reflective, realistic blood of the same type emanated by the orifices and exposed cranium of the poor little mushroom-headed fellow. Pressing onward, I ran through it to discover its dark secret. Its twisted surprise. I wasn’t prepared for the following events.

A blood-soaked warp whistle ominously rose from what I now believe to be the deepest crevice of hell. It blipped twice as the normal whistle would. That, my fellow reader, was the only normality of what I have played today. It played a deep tune that I can’t get out of my head as I write this. The whistle descended, violently striking Mario in the chest. He unleashed a bloodcurdling scream as it went into his back and out of his chest. This cry wasn’t 8-bit at all. It wasn’t even cartoon-esque. It was the sound of unfiltered anguish, of utter agony. His expression reflected the same. To end my experience on this perverse version of something I once loved, Mario was transported to the warp zone of the Blood Whistle.

I call it this because it had only the cookie-cutter outline of the quaint island. The water consisted solely of the same blood aforementioned in my encounter with the whistle. Corpses of Koopas and other enemies of Mario were scattered afloat near the shores. White menacing eyes glared at me between the waves, surfacing just to cast their evil glance at Mario (or me, I can’t be sure at this point). All of the worlds were indicated by their respective numbers, and all of the dots were crimson. At that point I noticed yet another abnormality, this time concerning the dot for world eight. Beside it were two 8-bit patches of fire that twisted and contorted in place. Without me pressing any buttons, the whistle stabbed Mario in the ribs. This cued him to move to the world two dot. Refusing to pay any further attention to the horrors that surely await in the distorted desert, I saved the game and quit. I have played more than enough of my fill for today.

I guess that I figured out the acronym from the ROM title meant Blood Whistle the hard way. Despite the horrors that plague this abomination, I will continue to subject myself to this suffering for the sake of all of you. Well, also for mine. It’ll help me keep track of the days, and maybe this desperate attempt to cling to my stable frame of mind won’t prove to be in total vain.

There are five thousand people that have followed this blog in the two days that it’s been up. After this pointedly interesting post, I’m hoping to have some more. For those of you following my posts, read tomorrow’s and share with your friends. I need you to expose the stark luridness of this shell of something I once knew and loved.

June 8th, 2012
Well, I did it. I managed to clench the fickle fibers of my perception of reality long enough to play through world two. I have come to the conclusion that whoever made this is completely and utterly deranged. There’s been a rusted gear or a broken spring in the mechanics of their sadistic mind. Their only purpose in creating this mod was to mentally and psychologically flagellate the naïve soul poor enough to take the bait of its mysterious origin. Well, I’m certainly naïve enough to fall into that category. I digress, to the experience.

I find myself asking how I could have missed major things like this yesterday when I saved the game in this world. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Blood of the same texture from before was just as splattered across the desert sands as sand itself was. Solitary eyes watched me from the pyramids. Pentagrams and other satanic symbols were also infrequent in the environment. Could this hack be the work of the Illuminati? OK, enough pondering. I need to finish this grim tale. Skeletons of Koopas littered the bleak landscape. There was a distinct disturbance with Mario’s appearance, though. He looked starved and parched, as one would typically look after a few days in the desert. Mario then moved into the 2-1 block without my command and the music began to play shortly after.

This was a reversed version of the overworld theme. Whispers and other paranormal phenomena could be heard playing in harmony with the music, saying cryptic things. After about a minute I began to record the sound. I’ll upload it as soon as possible, but I know I definitely can’t do it today. One of the most distinct things I kept hearing was “let the whistle guide you” and “the instrument of blood plays the sweetest tune”. This creeped me out needless to say, but this of all things wouldn’t prevent me from playing out the remainder of this game.

The stage itself was VERY scary. The sky was grayish-blue accompanied by an almost white sun. The colors weren’t bright or cheery in the slightest. The pyramid blocks were faded and cracked, and the wooden blocks were obviously rotting. Mario’s sprite was visibly starving and pleading for thirst. The fire creatures fixedly stared at me like a shark stares at a school of fish, seeming to know who their next meal was. The neutral expressions of the Koopas had changed into ones of converged disgust and loath. I had obtained the raccoon by now, so I ran along the pipe-looking platform and took off.

I flew for a little while, which was nice. Mario’s face changed as well, being the normal happy smile you usually see throughout the entire game. I relished in the few moments of happiness I sought from this game. These moments were mercilessly ended within the course of a few seconds. The sky flashed a gloomy black before the Blood Whistle came and impaled the poor plumber yet again. Mario fell, his corpulent figure going limp until he hit the ground with a thump that I swore I could feel.

He was miraculously alive, his body twitching in a feeble attempt to rise. A fire creature jumped on Mario, who was now pinned to the ground and screaming in pain. His scream was bitterly realistic. It reeked of such ineffable pain it hurts me now to describe the sheer degree of torture this character was put through. There he was. Burning and seething in pain and there I sat, completely powerless. Forced to watch what I thought was the end of his trials on world two. I was so wrong.

The level select came into view. Whistle through back, Mario was transported to one of the Pyramid levels. When the level started, the background was an egregious smoke-filled black. Bursts of lightning filled the sky with illumination. Winged demons in flight were visible upon these strikes. Also in the skies glowed stagnantly lit pentagrams and 666. Mario was being carried by two of Bowser’s sons up one of the game’s pyramid structures. However, this particular structure was vastly different than the regular ones.

The bricks were cracked and faded with age. The edges were jagged with dried blood caked each block. Nothing but a heavy drum beat and the sounds of thunder played in the background. The thunder didn’t play in unison with lightning as happens in most games. There was an eerily realistic pause between the flare of the lightning and the boom of the thunder. As the top of the structure was reached, I saw the worst thing yet.

Bowser towered above everyone else, intimidating and terrible. Below stood four of his sons, two of which had carried Mario: Morton, Iggy, Ray, and Von Koopa. Above the entire scene were the words Blood Whistle in bright red neon letters. Bowser’s face had to have been ten times more evil then I had ever seen it. His green shell was cracked, and his white spines had been dipped in blood. Blood was fresh on his teeth also as his serpentine tongue licked them, making clear his intentions on what to do with Mario after he had disposed of him. It was then I came to a dooming realization.

Mario can’t die. The game won’t let him. However many things are thrown at him, in however many ways he is brutally maimed, mortality will not escape him. For a time, that is. He will continue to be sustained by whatever dark force or sick mind that drives the rest of these occurrences to passing until the game’s eventual end, in which he will ruefully and painfully perish. Now that that has been said, to continue today’s experience.

Suddenly, Von Koopa produced a dagger. It gleamed with uncanny realism in the light of the Blood Whistle sign that loomed above. After a brief pause, he began to slice Mario’s chest open. Mario again brayed that fearful cry, a cry that implied he would die only to endure torture of ten times the magnitude. Tears streamed down his faced as Von removed his heart, still pumping. He handed it to Bowser, who ate it with a crunching chomp.

His sons laughed as he did this, blood flowing from Mario’s exposed abdomen. With a bark from their twisted father, the sons shamelessly began to regurgitate and tear apart what was open. As they were doing this, Mario slowly turned his head towards me and uttered a single question through tears and blood: "w-w-why?"

I myself asked the very same question. Why would they treat him as an animal- if not less- for their amusement? Why would someone initiate the genesis of such a horrid contraption? A contraption in which life and death have no meaning and are manipulates, a contraption in which concepts such as morals, remorse and mercy are completely foreign? It makes me shudder to think that there is someone sick enough out there to put a character through this kind of unbearable hell just to sit back and laugh. It makes me absolutely sick to my core.

Oh, that reminds me of another thing. You’re probably wondering as to why I complacently talk about Mario as if he’s a human being. A human who suffers pain, sorrow, depression, starvation, and thirst like the rest of us. A human who is also capable of feeling happiness, remorse, goodwill and love like anyone else. It’s because I am thoroughly convinced that he is. Please, don’t stop following this blog because you think I’m insane. That will come later.

I believe without a shadow of a doubt that inside this game is a character with a complex range of emotions, someone who feels like you and me. But it’s just a game right? It’s just a contrived mixture of code and data put together to present words and images, correct? Wrong. I know with everything inside of me that Mario has to be alive. I have seen him truly happy and truly sad, and at one point I may even see him truly angry. He feels like any other living, breathing human being.

I don’t know how. I don’t know why. I don’t know how something so human could rise from something so truly inhuman. A character with a soul seemed completely impossible to me before I played this hack. I now have a goal with this game: to keep this poor creature safe. I suppose I now know the real truth. I’ll see you all tomorrow. Same place, same time.

June 9th, 2012
It’s me again. I had a horrible range of nightmares last night that are a direct result of playing this game. Some really weird stuff also went down. Before I get into today’s gameplay, I’ll have to go through them with you guys so I’ll have an interactive record of my dreaming habits related to this game. I myself am having a hard time as to how they were so close to home, and what they mean for my seemingly inevitable downfall.

Before I tell this, I have to let you in on a piece of relevant information. In the 4th grade, I used to play the recorder. Every kid had to learn some musical skill, and I liked wind instruments because of their method of play, appearance, and sound. Such is the irony of the instrument that has caused me all of this grief. In my dream I was playing the instrument in a dark room.

I was my 4th grade self, just coolly playing Mary Had a Little Lamb. Out of nowhere, I began to cough. I had choked on some blood that had materialized within and around my recorder. It covered it, and soon filled it. Blood began to pour in great quantity out of all of the recorder’s holes. It soon began to float in mid-air and hover. A few seconds passed, and then it struck me in the chest. It had impaled me, going directly through my heart and every other vital artery one could think of.

I woke up, the sheets plastered to my bare chest with sweat. I was completely fine. Not a scratch on me. As I sat there in bed, afraid of how I’m sure the game did this – or maybe it was just me losing my sanity – I began to hear noise coming from my laptop. It was closed, but a faint muffled humming sound was clearly audible. I warily approached my computer, the machine almost looking alive. I then opened it up.

It was a picture of a SMB3 Raccoon Mario sprite on a black backdrop. He was chained up by his legs and feet, and the chains reached outside of the screen. The Blood Whistle sat as the centerpiece of it all through Mario’s chest.

The tune of the Blood Whistle played over and over, a loop that only exacerbated the sound within the walls of my psyche. I tried exiting out of whatever this program might have been but the window wouldn’t close. I eventually had to take out my laptop battery, which didn’t sit too well with my OS. Luckily, I didn’t lose any files. Now for the gameplay.

I was on a weak imitation of the world 3 level map. The water was none other than blood. Ravenous fish jumped out of the water, looks of primal hunger on their faces. There was something off about Mario’s map representation that I noticed right away. Along with his Raccoon tail, the blood whistle was now a permanent fixture through his body. His skin had dulled a little from its prior shade of gray, now more outwardly noticeable. His mustache now had dots of red clung to it as well. Without my or Mario’s control, needless to say, I was moved to the first underwater stage.

A cherry red tint absorbed the entire screen. This was to be expected, as the water looked blood-ridden from the outside as well. I swam down the left side of the level to get a fire mushroom. As soon as Mario got it and his outfit changed, he got an evil simper on his face.

He looked at me and said “Revenge, yes?” I confirmed his suspicions and then we set off for the danger that lurked near. The fish cast malevolent gazes at Mario as he swam by, incinerating them. His normal, happy smile returned. So did mine. The annihilation of the carnivorous critters didn’t last long before both Mario and I faced a hellish dilemma.

There was a large fish with rows of razor-sharp teeth. Below him were two power up blocks, one black-looking and one purple-looking. I assumed that these were supposed to mean red and blue. Obviously there was no progress from this point without finding out what these blocks had in store. Mario’s expression changed back into its gaunt appearance that he has had for the majority of the game. Knowing I had no other choice, I dauntingly hit the block that was black in appearance on the left.

The fish swam around from its position in top of us and began to tear off Mario’s limbs. By this time a group of fish had congregated around the entire scene. Their laughs were deep and short, registering as barks for the 8-bit sound processor. Mario’s unable body wobbled as he bled out, spewing black across the red. When he finally died, the big fish began to laugh. After a couple of seconds Mario’s limbs re-grew. With the blue block remaining, I hit it to get this all over with.

Bubbles stopped coming from Mario’s mouth. He cried out for help but that only made the problem worse. He sucked in tons of water, his hands around his neck. His face began to grow from gray to blue in a matter of moments. He kicked and fought, but he only wore himself down. Getting angry, he began to incinerate random fish that had gathered in the crowd. The fish began to laugh louder. For every fish he killed, two more appeared in its place. After a while he just gave up. I watched as Mario uttered his last gurgle on world 3, the Blood Whistle stabbing and taking him away. I saved and quit with haste. See you all tomorrow.

June 10th, 2012
Campus police gave me a visit today. Apparently one of you had reported my comments related to suicide and claimed I was insane. As a result, I have eliminated all personal information from this blog. I located the person who reported me and banned him. I also have an IP tracker, so don’t any of you try that. Speaking of followers, fifty thousand? I had never expected this page to accumulate this many active viewers. Wherever this popularity – or notoriety – came from, I am grateful. Now for today’s gameplay. After today, I’ll be lucky to finish the game.

Princess Toadstool’s letter appeared after the previous screen from world 3 faded out. She was squirming and shifting around. Bowser’s hand covered her mouth and nose, but it was easy to see the fear in her eyes. They darted left and right in stark, true fear. Bowser continued to have that sadistic smile on his face as he struggled with her. After about a minute and a half, Peach began to change.

Her eyes grew an ominous read as she pushed Bowser’s arm away with inhuman strength. She cackled like a loon, blue veins bulging so noticeably that they were clearly visible through her white satin gloves. Bowser than began to cower in timidity. The text on the letter said only this:

BLOOD WHISTLE

HEAR ITS CRY

~PEACH

The letter scene was abruptly cut off and the world 4 level select map was brought into view. Goombas and Koopas of all sizes appeared, furious and hungry as ever. This addition made sense. This was the giant/tiny world, the shown enemies would be dimensioned as such. The normally green grass was withered and dead. The small patches of water were blood. Mario still was in the fireball fatigues that he donned in world 3. When compared the other worlds, the map view for this one was vastly less disturbing. I would go as far to call this tolerable. Mario moved towards 4-1, into whatever nightmarish scenario this stage had to offer.

The stage had the usual kinks of any level in this game. The sky was black, which made the white clouds vibrantly contrast. A reversed version of the ground level once again played. The wood – as it had been before – was decaying and wasting away beneath Mario’s feet. The pipes were faded and cracked in various places. All of the enemies still possessed the same carnivorous looks of their inter-game counterparts. There was, oddly enough, a startling abundance of them. Koopas and Goombas danced around in a ritualistic manner. Mario was visibly petrified as he tried to avoid them, my arrow keys keeping them inches away from his life. Amidst the all of the din, there hovered a solitary power up block.

It was regular in appearance. Nothing was outwardly off about this, which greatly surprised me. Not knowing what horrid item it contained, I bumped it in blind vain. That maybe it could help me. You can most likely infer from the intonation I made in the preceding paragraph that I was completely mistaken. What appeared next is what I dreaded. That damn whistle. It was sitting there, blood washing over it as it rose from the yellow square. It sat there almost beckoning my name. With the imposing enemies, I knew I had no other choice. I took the weapon from its place. Fruitlessly hoping for the best, readily expecting the worst.

The on-screen foes ceased all activity. Their faces returned to a neutral, bank state. Five minutes they stood in place like this not moving a muscle. I jumped around and tried to kill them, but to no avail. It’s almost as if they were frozen within the confines of time itself. As if for specifically them, all interstellar and physical continuity came to a careening halt. Then they began to move. After the first couple had did it, I realized What truly was going on. This was a mass suicide. Most of them just jumped in the nearest hole, but others performed incredible feats of acrobatics and medical possibility.

One Koopa was bashing his head in on a pipe. Another Goomba jumped six or seven times his own height, turned around in the air, and sent blood flying everywhere with a great splat. Soon all of the enemies were dead. Their remains were spontaneously upchucked from the trench below. A grisly mixture of guts and gore littered the entire remainder of the level. Mario shuffled through the remains, horrified with tears streaming on his face throughout. Random deep, bassy tones played with nothing else to accompany.

Realistic squishy sounds were emitted every time Mario took a step in the scattered carnage. He continued to cry for the duration of the level. The whistle faded into view and followed Mario a few inches above his head, like a pestilential virus. After he cleared it, of course, the whistle went straight through his chest as Mario was headed to world 5. The game has a habit of putting me where it needs me to be, so I closed the window without saving.

Witnessing all of that death really racked my nerves. Sure it might be a game, but with the things this game has had to present to me I’m starting to lose my perception of reality. I’m starting to wonder to myself what is real and what is inside the computer. These two things are quickly fusing into one. The lines… they’re blurring. Pretty soon the days will start fading together, and by then I’ll have lost all sense of reality. I hope to see you all tomorrow. I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this game. No, it’s not a game. I couldn’t tell you what this is.

June 11th, 2012
Today being D-Day fits, because I’m fighting one hell of a war against this game (and a losing one at that). At least there are no more mishaps with you all so far, which puts me at rest. As of today’s gameplay, I fear for my own life. I feel as if something is coming after me. Lurking, seeking me out as to make immediate my demise. Never before has anything like this ever happened. Never before has anything electronic made me truly afraid, truly scared. I most likely will get no sleep tonight. Nothing in particular occurred, it’s just… you’ll find out below.

I was in the middle of the cloud portion of world 5. The sky theme played, except it was drastically slow and demonic whispers were clearly audible. The whispers were almost the same as the ones I heard back in world 2. Mario was outfitted with the Tanooki suit, which naturally suited the environment. There was nothing there except two things: A red dot, and a card game.

The card game icon looked similar enough to its regular game clone, except the spades rolled across a red background instead of a blue one. Now, for whatever reason, I was allowed to choose which path to take. I chose to do the card game, hoping it would serve as some sort of reprieve from all the madness. That was not the right choice.

Toad didn’t explain the rules of the game like normal. Instead, I was plunged into the rolling slots. Beside the slots was a risky scenario. Toad was on a guillotine. He looked at the camera with timid, teary eyes. He also was vigorously shaking his head. He shook his hands in a futile effort to free himself from this appalling apparatus, but nothing came of it. The entire picture engulfed me so much I didn’t even notice the slots. I cautiously pressed them, trying as best I could to line them up given the stress of the situation. I failed, and had to pay the personal price.

The blade fell with breathtaking speed. Toad was beheaded right then and there. His head did a couple of spins in the air before landing in a conveniently placed nearby basket. The initial spins flayed blood across the white room. Blood filled the basket and filled it up, toad’s body spraying blood from the stump where his head used to be. Out of nowhere, the Blood Whistle came down and struck his torso. The scene faded out and back to the map. I was moved to the only remaining destination in world 5.

Silent lightning streaked across the licorice black sky. Gray clouds and Mario were the only other consistently visible things. As far as everything goes, silhouettes of winged demons flew and danced in the background. I tried turning into the stone structure the Tanooki suit is so famous for, but it failed. No music at played. None at all. The demons would be heard whispering in what sounded like a variety of languages.

Spanish, German, and Latin were the most prevalent ones. A primal fear of the unknown gripped me as I blindly navigated the level. Judging by the look on Mario’s face, it plagued him also. This stemmed from childhood, which made it all the worse. I not only felt like Mario was in danger, I felt like my livelihood and well-being were in danger. At that moment, one of the demons swooped down.

I would say the most accurate way to describe this creature would be a miniature Cthulu. Its claws plucked out Mario’s eyes, making them profusely bleed. He unleashed an ephemeral, yet bone-chilling cry. After the searing pain relented Mario trudged on. His face was now void of any and all expression. It was because he knew as well as I did that he would be torn apart. Brutally and slowly, but it would happen. After a few more seconds, the second demon came.

It was identical in appearance to the first. It swooped down with grim, black bat wings and did its portion of damage. After it was said and done, the thing had torn Mario’s arms off. Mario stopped dead in his tracks. He sobbed loudly, knowing the worst was yet to come. I felt so sorry for him that the words escaped me. He continued with a morose look. His normal walk slowed to a shuffle. Not a few seconds after that, the final solitary specter came down. He did his work with one big slash. Mario was now without his legs, and his lump of a body sat there. He sadly wept in utter despair. He knew the end was near. He tuned to me and choked out this: “I’m sorry you had to witness this...everything...”

Those were his last spoken words on world 5 before a gaggle of hell’s minions descended and tore apart what remained of him. His entrails were liberally exposed as they regurgitated in their cruel feast. When the dust cleared, a mere shell of him remained. All you could see of his open stomach were his open spine and back muscles. As I had predicted, the Blood Whistle came to transport him into whatever hellish situation it contemplated would be worse than the last. Consider it sheer luck if I make another post tomorrow. If I do, it may be my last.

June 12th, 2012
I’m starting not to care anymore. I am in the throes of such a severe depression it’s all starting to fade away. Everything. School, friends, family. It’s safe to say this game is single-handedly ruining my life. Such sadness has never become me ever before in my life. My grandfather died when I was young, but that didn’t close to equate what I’m feeling now. It’s a direct result of the level that I played today, which I’ll get into right now.

World 6 appeared. Ice was everywhere. This is the one part that correlated to the unaltered version. Nothing else did. The ice was none other than frozen, realistic blood. Crystallized pieces of crimson droplets bordered the ice blocks. Blood filled in the small pockets of water that were. Of course, there was only a solitary dot on the map. Mario entered it, and I knew that whatever was to pass, it would be ten-fold of what had already happened.

Pure, sable white was the only thing that constituted of the backdrop. Blocks of blood ice served as a slippery ground. Mario slid along as I controlled him. He appeared happy. Overjoyed might be more accurate. Here he had nothing to deal with. Just him and the open space. Five minutes passed. Then ten. All the way through, Mario was happy as I let him run around and fly (he had regained the raccoon tail). It seemed like he had all the time in the world. The clocked ticked and ticked and all seemed right in the game. Making my way through the level, I found out it had no end. Time, oddly enough, would turn out to be the ultimate enemy.

At the twenty minute mark a tempest began to pick up. A flurry of snow and wind ensnared Mario, and he now began to curl his tail. His teeth chattered and his body shook. He soon had to sit down. Mario and I soon figured out how the game planned to snuff him out this time: with ice and time. He sat and tried to heat himself. This, needless to say, was a less than feeble attempt. Nothing but the creepy bass beats from world 5 played. Mario’s skin soon began to turn a light blue. Nevertheless, he still sat and brooded in the icy cold.

It was then that the utmost feeling of sadness had encapsulated me. I couldn’t fathom my sympathy. I couldn’t begin to describe how bad I felt at the fact that his death was absolutely inevitable and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Just simply watch in shock and dejected awe. Frostbite soon took his hands. Ten minutes after that, world 6 Mario was no more. Just a frozen block of a man, sitting there in the middle of an infinite winter wilderness. After the sadness came feelings of sheer loneliness.

I felt abandoned and alone. Just like Mario sitting in the middle of that ice field. I felt as if no one would save me from the torture of this game. The Blood Whistle came down and made a chunk sound as it impaled his chest, taking him to the next level of hell. I closed the emulator window like always, and ended this self-subjected torture. I WILL bring myself to play this game tomorrow, but mark my words. I’ll play the last tomorrow, and then this blog will (hopefully) live on in my memory. So my tribulation can be seen by the world. Be here. Same time, same place.

June 13th, 2012
It is ironic indeed that today is June the 13th. The unlucky number, the unlucky day. I suppose today isn’t completely horrible. Today is the last day I had to play this wretched game. This horrifyingly absurd remake of what I used to see as a wonderful game will soon be out of my life. Along with everything else. With this being the last post, I suppose I can finally be honest about my true intentions ever since I finished world 2. I’m going to take my own life.

This game has caused me sorrow on such an ineffable level that there is no other option. Life will never be the same. Mom and dad, I love you. Michael and Kelsie, you guys be good. Listen to mom and dad. They have a lot of valuable lessons to teach you. Lessons that I learned but can now never apply again. Now for what you seventy five thousand followers read this post for: the rest of the game.

Hell itself is what the game brought me to. I suppose that this was intentioned to convey world 8. No, not hell. WORSE than hell. Bodies were chained up in the background enduring a myriad of tortures. The only pain wasn’t strictly felt from injuries though.

The coughs, dying wheezes and vomiting in the background reeked of pestilence and suffering. Fires emblazoned certain people as well. The flames had an actual burning quality to them. Not like regular 8-bit fire. Flesh, eyes, and other internal organs and tissue constituted the walls and ground. If the hell I’m certainly going to exists, I think it looks something like this.

Mario stood before a possessed Princess Toadstool. Her dress was ripped in several places and splattered with blood. Her eyes gleamed red, the flames casting an evilly maniacal allure to her appearance. Bowser and his six sons were tied to wooden poles with terrified looks on their faces. Wendy, for some reason, didn’t appear anywhere in this game. In one hand, Peach brandished a sizable dagger. In the other, the Blood Whistle. She walked over to Bowser and looked him in the eyes.

Technical limitations slightly hindered the interpretation of what events passed, but it was easy enough to understand what was going on. Through his gag, Bowser pleaded with her not to harm him. She brought the knife close to him and he froze up. He was obviously paralyzed with fear. Her mouth got close to his ear and text rolled along at the bottom of the screen, conveying the text of what played out given the sound limitations. This is what enabled Mario to "speak" in the past.

“Sh,” she whispered.

Bowser’s innards spilled onto the floor in a great heap. He let out a monstrous 8-bit roar of pain as this happened. Peach laughed, her red eyes reflecting whatever evil had possessed her. The princess proceeded to eviscerate all six of his other sons. Mario did nothing but look on in horror as his mortal enemies were torn apart by a woman he had once loved very much.

His face soon contorted into one of loathing. He had come all this way to find out the very girl he wished to save had been taken over by an extra-terrestrial evil. An evil that would not only haunt Mario, but me as well. The sort of evil that doesn’t go away when you turn off the game. The kind of dark force that follows you to your bedchambers and steals your soul. Princess Toadstool paused for a couple of seconds, then came at Mario with the knife.

“Hey there Mario,” she said as she toyed with the knife.

“They got a little sharp'' with me so I pushed them over the EDGE! Hehehe''…”

I tried to move Mario but nothing happened. He stood there, afraid of what she would do. She brutally slashed open his arms, legs and abdomen. Shortly thereafter, the princess produced some salt from her billowing dress and sprinkled it all over him. He screamed again, unmoving.

"The Princess Peach you used to know is long gone. The power of the Blood Whistle consumed that girl and made way for me. And speaking of which,” she continued as she produced the Blood Whistle, “Here it is. Hear its cry.”

With a mocking kiss on the cheek, she began to play Mario the perverse song of the Blood Whistle. Its notes rotted away the last reserve of good in me. He was heaved by an invisible force into the flames.

He cried out as they consumed him. Peach chucked the whistle, making it strike him directly in the heart. He continued to wallow in utter anguish as she walked away. As she laughed, He looked into my eyes and bore me this parting message via the text at the bottom of the screen:

“''Do not let your life be as painful as mine was. I do not hold reservations against you, as you tried your best to keep me alive. I commend you for that. Good bye, Bradley, and good luck.''" The tune of the blood whistle continued to play as the screen panned out of Mario’s hell.

How he knew my name is Bradley continues to befuddle me. How he could have such depth, such personality. I don’t know whether this is a result of the game being as haunted as it truly is, or the fact that someone’s could have been captured inside of this rom. Whatever the reason of this, of everything that has come to pass with this abomination, I am glad I’m finally done. I have made all of my goodbyes at the beginning of this post. I hope one of you takes the time to save this blog. Or at the very least, to show the world the true hell I have put myself through. I sure hope that the demented creator of this game isn’t festering in the same hell I’m headed for. Goodbye, everyone.

Aftermath
This blog was the last recorded statement of Bradley before his death.

His roommate discovered him four hours after he made the last post. Bradley committed suicide using a recorder that he plunged through his trachea.