usually peppy approach to things was now overrun with blind panic and
anxiety when his brother didn’t reply. He had no idea what happened, but
whatever it was, it scared the life out of Luigi. Indirectly it was
doing the same for Mario, who continued to shake his brother’s limp body
and call his name.
Luigi remained out-cold and shaky through his sibling’s desperate pleading calls. He should be used to dealing with so much terror but being ambushed by his one greatest fear without anything to defend himself against the power of the twisted monarch had thrown the poor plumber for more than a loop.
Awh, what's wrong? Still haven't overcome your fear? Well, no surprise there. You Mario Brothers never had a knack for ghosts. Come on, Luigi, turn and face me! You somehow manage to delude me and escape that absolutely gorgeous painting of yours and you think I'd hide from you? I'm a King; a man of revenge! There's NO WAY you can stop me this time. You and your brother are SO CLOSE to becoming paintings again, I can SMELL the wet paint!
He wanted to scream– to run away— something.
Luigi’s body refused to move, he was utterly frozen in place– the only thing that moved with increasing speed was his diaphragm as his hitched breath quickened to hyperventilating.
How did King Boo escape? How did he find him? –Without his Poltergust. Was Mario safe? E-Gadd?
All these questions flooded his horror-stricken mind. If this was a nightmare… why was he feeling so c o l d? With every once of effort he could muster, Luigi’s head twists very slowly around and— all of his worst fears are confirmed at once. His pupils dilate, a scream for help long lost in his dry throat. He couldn’t protest, nor respond verbally– he was helpless.