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 His eyes were closed but he did not sleep. He could taste it, smell it, feel it all over again. Every single night he would relive his haunting past, or was it his alternate future? No matter what it was, it was still there, fresh in his mind and he could not escape it.

~ Being plastered to the mold infested wall didn't help him much. The vines encasing him further disabled him, he could not move. Not to mention that breathing seemed to be a difficult chore now. The taste of poison ivy on his lips made his stomach churn, but he figured throwing up would do him no good, seeing as it would weaken him even more. Oh, wonderful. He could barely see out of the corner of his eye the Giant Skulltulas that were descending upon him to hold him at bay; as if he could move anyway. Smelling the demon spiders' rotted breath made his nostrils flare and the idea of throwing up not such a bad one anymore. He heard the cry before he could register what it was. Oh Goddesses, what was that pain?! It felt as if his flesh was being torn from his very limbs... yes, he could definitely feel teeth sinking into his legs. Then he saw it, the Gray Wolfos was feasting on him! Arg, the pain! How did he get himself into this mess? If only he could reach his sword....

His body seemed to be hurled through time and space and the sudden inability to breathe was overwhelming. He tried kicking his feet, the pain of being torn apart no longer apparent. Finally, he could breathe again! He climbed out of the water and collapsed on the ledge, when the strange feeling of foreboding overtook his senses. Why did that not surprise him? He leapt onto his feet and mindlessly slashed through the two Tektites, only to be greeted with a hideously large Like Like. Slaughtering such creatures became like a dance for him, executing without having to even think about it. After being sucked up and spit back out, he disposed of the revolting blob and went through the door. Sinking to his knees, memories of blood and death and screaming suddenly overflowed his mind. Why couldn't he just die, too? How could he possibly have enough strength to go on like this? Oh, the Hero of Time has plenty of strength, plenty of energy. He is invulnerable. Ha! If only they knew! If not for the potions and faeries, surely he would be laying immobile, paralyzed, and Goddesses forbid, dead somewhere. What a joke. He gathered his strength as best he could, knowing there was no way he would get out of this place without a fight. It was almost a certainty. Oh how he hated being right all the time. He would never forget the sinister laugh, the burning red eyes, the almost identical resemblance this creature had to Link himself. Identical except for the shadowy black skin, the black...everything. He swore by Din’s Fire, this Shadow Elf would not escape him so easily. Then it happened again. The drowning, the suffocating...ack! No air!

Fire! Fire that gave no heat but could scorch the very soul. What sort of hell was this? His skin seemed to boil and his heart seemed to burn, yet the flame was not the cause of this. He could feel them, the eyes of the dragon... "Damn you Volvagia, you demon," he muttered to himself. He could feel the eyes piercing his heart and burning his soul. How much more of this could he take before he exploded? He realized that life seemed endless to him now, it seemed as if he could not die, no matter how much he wanted to sometimes. He didn't know whether that was a blessing or a curse. Killing the guardian dragon of this temple was *not* going to be easy.

Dead...all of it. Rotten, decayed, and Goddesses, the stench! This was definitely the most haunting place of all. He looked around as if he could see, but there was no light. There was only darkness and death, and the demons reached for him as if to drag him to the underworld. This place was truly a place of shadow. This was the one place that made him want to scrape at his eyes, the one place that made him want to pull his hair and scream until his throat was bloody. He felt as if he was living an undying death, which to him was worse than actually dying. This was the one place that made him cry his soul out.

This was so much better than that rotten death circus that he had barely come out of. By Farore’s Wind, he had just about enough of those Lizalfos. Dumbest things ever created by the big Dorkwad. They were at times hard to kill, but he managed nonetheless. The cries of the spirits tended to get on his nerves as well, but what did he expect? This *was* the Spirit Temple after all. All he wanted to do was murder the bloody witches and get out of this place. Oh for the Love of Nayru! ....Is that Nabooru? P>

BOOM! Down again. He didn't know if he could take another shot, his breathing was raspy and most of his clothes were torn, the blood in his body seemed like it was trying to get free of him. If he couldn't get up, it was all over. The sound of Zelda's screams brought him back to reality, and he struggled to get up. One more blow, and this beast was going down. He rolled between Ganon's legs, aiming for the tail again, but realized only too late that he left his sword behind. Ducking a swing, he rolled again and grabbed his sword just in time to strike, "Take that, Dorkwad!"...

"You can’t send me back."

"I must, it is your destiny."

"My destiny?! Fuck you! Do you even have the slightest clue as to what I’ve been through? And for you, no less!"

"Please, I know you’re upset.."

"Upset doesn't even begin to-"

"But it is time we must part. Time for you to regain your lost youth." Zelda placed the ocarina to her lips.

"No! Don’t do it!" ~

This was the last straw.

"Wake up."

"Wha...who’s there?"

"Me."

"Guar-"

"No need to call the guards, Zelda. They can't hear you."

"..Link? Is it really you?"

"I’ve come to repay an old debt."

"What can you mean?"

"It’s time you learn." The bright glistening of the Master Sword shone brightly in Zelda’s eyes, and it’s song called out to her. The last reminiscent thought Zelda had of the young Hero of Time was his smiling face as they met for the first time in her gardens, his acceptance to help her, his strong willpower, and his courageous heart. As the sword’s gleam became brighter, she wondered how such a good man had become so corrupted, and then it all became clear to her. It was mostly...no...all her fault.