Sienna glared across the table, silently watching the Hylian lad. What kind of game was this? What was his deal? These would be the questions Sienna should be asking herself. But no. Of course not. She was wondering what his insides looked like. She wondered if he had some kind of magical powers, and more importantly, if those powers could prevent her from murdering him. The lad just sat there, with his faceless face, his twisted grin. The words rang in Sienna's mind. She had almost forgotten where she was--the bottom of a volcano, with three Goron corpses at her feet. How did this kid even get down here, anyway? Looking down at her blood-soaked gauntlets, she wondered if she had finally snapped. No, that couldn't be. She had seen this little motherfucker before... but she just couldn't remember where. It felt as if every fiber of her being was telling him to murder him, while simultaneously screaming at her that it was a terrible idea. She was smart enough to know she wasn't the wisest when it came to making decisions like this... What would her brother have done? Probably stolen his stupid wheel and ran away like a bitch. The last thing she should do is look to him for advice. "Fine." She lifted her mask long enough to spit a handful of Deku Nuts into her palm, then slammed them down on the desk. Her hand then dropped seven rupees down over the drool-drenched nuts. "Good enough for you? Good." Sienna abruptly hopped back, before taking her glaive high into the air. A twisted grin spread across her face, before the bladed tip of the weapon tore down violently towards the stupidly-colored wheel--and that damn invisible smirk.
It was no longer invisible. A maw had appeared upon that blank canvas, long and thin, with cracked, white lips. Bright whites lay below those ruinous curtains, yet despite their sheen, their luster, seemed the opposite of pure. Sienna would not be able to tear her gaze away from that widening smile, that wonderfully twisted mouth. Lips moved, making no sound, yet whispers boomed in her mind. "I will take it all the same, be it good or not. But what of you, then? Little terror, little monster, I wonder, is this good enough for you?" The edges of his mouth curled up unbearably, twisting, warping. The skin stretched tight, and though the parched lips bled from open sores, it seemed to pull further still. Sienna's vision would be consumed with the sight, those horrid teeth, with the pallor of dead flesh, coiling and coiling like serpents. She blinked: his face, all smiles now, loosed equally horrifying laughter. Then, she would feel her own face begin to pull taught, her own snout pulling, pushing, squeezing, as if in some perverse dance with the mouth of the terrible figure before her. The wood, impossibly soft, seemed almost like fluid, as if her face were melting away like paint with too much water. Hues of brown and black blended together, dripping down, down, down, stewing, her stomach pulled from her core and joining the melting pot. Darker and darker it became, like a black hole, like the emptiness of space, or the cold pit of fear in one's gut. Yet, silvery, too, somehow, as Sienna looked down into its depths. There, a reflection, a perverse imitation of her. Like a crude statue hewn of poor steel, there stood something of her guise, armor and all, yet mal-proportioned and undeniably evil. It held no glaive, its only weapons were its short, stub arms that ended in sharp blades. With an inarticulate scream, and clamored out from the pit, a demon of steel rising up. It looked down at her, and only now would she realize she was laying down; was it down, or had direction simply stopped having meaning? Then, it was her own face she was looking upon. The body of metal moved as her own, creaking and squeaking like shearing metal. Then, gone, and the faceless, grinning boy with it. You have returned to your own body, but you get the feeling that if you pull at the edges of your snout, it might just open large enough, like some evil portal to a shadow realm, to release that steel being on your enemies. Strangely enough, while you do so, your soul possesses that metal body, your true body becoming comatose until you dispel your replacement body, or it is destroyed.
"Huh." Sienna stared at the ceiling for quite some time, before realizing she was laying on a pile of Goron corpses. That... that was an interesting experience, to say the least. Disturbing. Terrifying, even. Her chest was heaving with heavy breaths--and she liked it. Rolling onto her feet, Sienna plucked up her glaive from the ground. That nightmarish figure of her was nowhere to be seen anymore, and the boy along with it. She lifted her mask, glowing eyes examining her surroundings in detail. There was a bit... of disappointment. Horror was one of few things--aside from murder of course--that made her feel alive, and these days she seemed to experience it so rarely. She held her hand aloft, and tried to spit a nut into it. As she somewhat expected, nothing came out--instead, she felt tiny, sharp things clawing at her stomach, at the inside of her face. A twisted grin grew across her face. It wasn't just a nightmare, after all... "Boy," she called into the vacant room. Her cold voice abruptly cracked with disturbed laughter, before she continued, "I look forward to us meeting again."
