Content Warning for the following Story! [PLEASE READ: DO NOT SKIP THIS! ⚠️]
Trauma
Childhood abandonment
Neglect
Starvation
Dissociation
Psychological distress
Disturbing memories
Panic responses
Intrusive memories
Death
PTSD-like symptoms
Survivor’s guilt
Self-blame
Self-worth issues
Depictions of internalized self hatred
Suicidal thoughts
(Now... Don’t keep reading if you are not comfortable with any of the following topics because this story has that all! And this is based off newest Myth update we got a few days ago.)
☆~Today's Story: Bad Memories~☆
The day had begun so normally that Marquinhos would later struggle to pinpoint the exact moment everything went wrong. The morning passed quietly. He had finished several reports, answered a handful of questions that Pomni had, and helped one of the departments sort through a problem that could have been solved if someone had simply read the instructions attached to the project. By lunchtime, he found himself sitting across from Mario in the cafeteria. The room was comfortably busy. Some Stars moved between tables carrying trays of food. Conversations rose and fell throughout the room. Someone laughed loudly near the coffee machine. It was the kind of ordinary environment Marquinhos usually enjoyed. Mario certainly seemed to.
The plumber was in the middle of telling a story involving Peach, Luigi, and what sounded like a very unfortunate gardening incident. “...and then Luigi swears the flower wasn't dangerous,” Mario said, gesturing animatedly with his fork. “Then five seconds later it bites his hand.” Marquinhos snorted softly. “Is Luigi okay?” “Yeah he’s alright.” Mario grinned. “But he insisted that the plant was friendly.” “But… Didn’t you bring it home.” “T-That's not important.” “Are you sure? I mean it seems pretty important papa.” Mario pointed accusingly at him. “You're missing the point, Gato.” A faint smile tugged at Marquinhos' lips. For a few moments he simply listened. Mario kept talking. The sounds of the cafeteria blended together. The scent of food lingered in the air.
Everything felt normal. Then Marquinhos smelled rain. His smile disappeared. Not because rain itself bothered him. Because there wasn't supposed to be any. His ears twitched. The scent hit him again. Rain. Wet wood. Mud. Cold stone. His stomach suddenly tightened. The cafeteria vanished from his awareness. Mario's voice continued speaking, but the words no longer made sense. They sounded distant. Muffled. As though they were coming from the far end of a long tunnel. The smell grew stronger. Marquinhos stared blankly at the table. His breathing slowed. Something inside his chest felt strange. Then a terrible recognition hit him like a train. His vision blurred. The cafeteria faded. And suddenly he wasn't sitting across from Mario anymore. He was unbelievably cold as the rain hammered against rooftops overhead.
The sky was gray and heavy, swollen with storm clouds, water dripped from broken gutters and splashed into muddy streets. Marquinhos found himself looking down at tiny hands. Small. Thin. Dirty. Hands that belonged to a child. His body felt different. Smaller. Lighter. Weaker. The realization sent a wave of panic through him. He felt everything. The child version of himself sat beneath a damaged awning attached to a crumbling building. Rain leaked through cracks overhead. His clothes were soaked. His fur clung to his skin. His stomach twisted painfully. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten a proper meal. Had it been days? Or was it weeks? Or even longer that he couldn’t remember? He couldn’t remember. People walked past. Adults, children, families but nobody stopped. Nobody looked at him.
A woman carrying groceries hurried through the rain. A pair of teenagers splashed through puddles. An old toon walked by holding an umbrella. Not a single person acknowledged the tiny black-furred kitten sitting alone beneath the awning. Mark felt something in his chest crack. Because he remembered the feeling. The horrible certainty that nobody was coming. Nobody was looking for him. Nobody cared enough to stop. The memory jumped. Hours vanished. Then days. Then weeks. The little kitten wandered unfamiliar streets. Every corner felt dangerous. Every stranger felt threatening. He slept wherever he could. Abandoned porches. Alleys. Storage sheds. Anywhere dry enough to survive the night. The memory shifted again. Darkness. A dumpster. Young Marquinhos crouched beside it.
His hands trembled as he dug through garbage, as he was searching and he found a discarded sandwich. It was Half-eaten. It looked moldy, the bread was stale and the meat smelled questionable at first, but out of desperation he ate it. A tiny meal that barely helped. But it helped enough. The memory lurched forward again. He saw an angry store owner come out for his break and saw him eating the sandwich, he would start yelling as the young kitten would start running. He felt fear surging through his tiny body as he ran for it. But this wasn’t because he'd stolen the sandwich. It was because he knew people didn't like finding him nearby. As he began to remember more of the memory, he could feel the cold rain hitting him. His hunger never left.
But the loneliness was what truly bothered him. And this happened again. And again. And again. Months passed. The kitten grew quieter. Not because he wanted to. But because surviving in this cruel world required it. Talking. Crying or Being noticed didn't help. Eventually he stopped expecting kindness. Stopped expecting help. Stopped expecting anyone at all. Then something changed. The memory became unstable. The world around him was distorted. The air felt wrong. The streets felt wrong. He saw people move away from the town. The silence at first felt loud. But a sudden strange tension spread throughout the town. Even young Marquinhos felt it. Something was happening. The kitten sat near the edge of a street. Watching. Waiting. Trying to understand why everyone seemed afraid.
Then somebody screamed. The sound echoed through the street. Sharp. Terrified. Young Marquinhos flinched violently. A second scream followed. Then another. The entire town seemed to erupt into chaos. People began running. Doors slammed shut. Someone shouted warnings. Others shouted questions but nobody seemed to know what was happening. Only that something was wrong. The kitten froze. His body locked up instantly. His heart hammered in his chest as the adults rushed past him. Someone nearly knocked him over. The screaming continued. Louder. Closer. A woman ran by clutching a child against her chest. She suddenly noticed him. The tiny kitten sitting motionless in the middle of the chaos. For a brief moment their eyes met.
The woman looked horrified. “Kid!” Young Marquinhos didn't move. The woman looked over her shoulder at whatever was causing the panic before looking back at him. Her voice cracked with terror as she would look up and notice some wood roofing loosening up. “You need to move!” The kitten remained frozen. The screaming grew louder. The woman took a step toward him before another burst of panic erupted nearby. People shoved past her. Someone grabbed her arm. The child she was carrying began crying. “The roof is gonna-” she shouted again. But her voice sounded quieter now. “Please! Before he gets-” But Marquinhos couldn't make his legs work. He couldn't make himself stand, couldn't make himself run. The fear was too much. The world around him dissolved into noise. Screaming. Running. Panic.
The woman disappeared into the crowd. The last thing he remembered was seeing her face. Terrified. Not of him. For him. Then the memory shattered. Marquinhos jerked back into reality so violently that his chair scraped against the cafeteria floor. The sound made several nearby Stars look over. His chest heaved. His heart felt like it was trying to break through his ribs. Sweat clung to the back of his neck. His hands were shaking. Not slightly. But violently. Across the table, Mario had gone completely silent. The plumber looked deeply concerned. He had clearly been trying to get Marquinhos' attention for several minutes. “Gato?” Marquinhos blinked. Mario's face came into focus. The cafeteria slowly returned. Mario leaned forward. “Hey are you okay?” Marquinhos opened his mouth but nothing came out.
His throat tightened. The memory still felt real. The rain still lingered in his nose. The cold still clung to his skin. And somewhere deep inside his mind, a horrifying realization was beginning to form. Mario continued watching him carefully. The concern on his face hadn't gone away. If anything, it had gotten worse. Marquinhos was staring at the table now, his dark green eyes unfocused as his mind desperately tried to process what had just happened. His heart was still racing as the memory refused to leave. Every time he blinked, he could see flashes of rain-soaked streets. The broken awning. The hunger. The terrified woman screaming at him to move out of the way. But the worst part? He remembered how scared she'd sounded. As if something awful was fixing to happen.
Something the memory still refused to show him. “Marq?” Mario's voice pulled him back slightly. The plumber had leaned forward in his chair. His expression was now soft. The way someone looked at a friend they knew was struggling. “Are you doing alright kiddo?” At first Mark didn’t say anything, but his hands answered, they were still trembling as his chest still felt tight. He felt like a part of him was sitting in the cafeteria and the other part felt like he was still trapped in that dark memory. Still cold. Still hungry. Still eight years old. Still waiting for someone to come back for him. His stomach twisted. He immediately pushed the thought away. The sudden movement made Mario blink. Marquinhos grabbed the edge of the table for balance before straightening himself. His expression had already begun returning to its usual calm mask.
Years of practice made it easy. “I need to get back to work.” Mario frowned. “Mark-” “I’m sorry but I've got blueprints I need to finish before Mickey decides to make me stay late again.” His voice sounded normal but Mario didn't look convinced. Not even slightly. His eyes dropped toward the untouched food sitting on Marquinhos' tray. The feline had barely eaten any of it. A few bites at most. Which was unusual. Mario knew that. Marquinhos would normally clear out anything on his plate, but he never left a meal untouched. Especially during a workday. “You didn't finish your lunch, kid.” Marquinhos looked down. The tray sat exactly where he'd left it. Half untouched. His appetite had completely vanished. The memory had taken it with it. Just looking at the food made his stomach churn.
He remembered stale bread. Dumpster scraps. Days of hunger. His chest tightened again. “I'm not hungry right now.” The answer came out quieter than intended. Mario immediately knew something was wrong. The plumber slowly stood as well. “Gato.” The feline avoided eye contact. “I'll grab something from the vending machine later.” A lie. Mario knew it. Marquinhos knew it. Neither said anything. For several moments the two simply stood there. Mario wanted to help. Marquinhos wanted to escape. Eventually the feline picked up his folder. “I'll see you later.” Mario opened his mouth but quickly closed it. He could tell pushing wouldn't help so instead he nodded. “Okay… But just... take-a care of yourself.” Marquinhos offered a small nod. Then turned away as he began walking away from Mario.
The cafeteria felt strangely loud as he walked out. Every voice seemed sharper. Every sound seemed to be more noticeable. His ears twitched constantly. The memory still lingered. Minutes would pass as Marquinhos had entered back into his lab, he sat down slowly in one of his chairs. The room was quiet. The soft hum of equipment filled the background. He stared at the unfinished plans in front of him. Lines. Measurements. Calculations. Things he normally loved. Yet he couldn't focus. His pencil remained motionless in his hand. The memory kept replaying. Over. And over. And over. The rain. The hunger. The loneliness. The screaming. The woman's voice telling him to move out of the way. His ears would flatten against his head as he looked away from his desk. “Why now?” The words slipped out before he realized he'd spoken.
His gaze lowered toward the desk. Why was he remembering this now? Why had his mind hidden it for so long? But most importantly why did it feel so real? Marquinhos had always known he had lived previous lives. Most of all cats did. It wasn't exactly common, but it wasn't impossible either. The problem wasn't knowing he had previous lives, It was that he couldn't remember them. Or rather he couldn't remember fully. He knew that there were some pieces that existed. His grip tightened around the pencil. “What if there were more? He said quietly to himself as he slightly glanced up from his desk. He would immediately feel his stomach drop. A few days had passed since the incident in the cafeteria. Not enough time for him to forget it. Just enough time for Marquinhos to convince everyone else around him that he was fine.
He threw himself into work. Blueprints. Reports. Meetings. Project reviews. Anything that kept his mind occupied. Anything that prevented him from sitting still long enough to think. Because thinking inevitably led him back to the memory. The rain. The hunger. The woman screaming at him to move. The terrible realization that he hadn't imagined any of it. It had happened. Somewhere in a life that no longer existed. A life his mind had buried so deeply that he had gone decades without remembering it. And now the memories were returning without warning and without any indication of what might trigger the next one. That uncertainty was becoming its own source of anxiety. Every conversation made him wonder. Every smell. Every sound. Every passing comment. “W-What if i’m doing something and it triggers another memory?”
He would slowly start to pace around the room, as he tried to calm himself down. “What if it happens during work? What if it happens while I'm operating my work? What if-” Those remaining words stopped before he could finish, he couldn’t even bear the thought that those same words would follow him constantly. But worst of all anytime that he had passed by Mario, the plumber would occasionally give him worried looks. The plumber had clearly noticed something was wrong, but he hadn’t wanted to say anything, not yet. By the late evening Mickey had gathered The Stars in one of the larger conference rooms. Unlike most meetings, this one wasn't centered around work. No budget discussions. No project reviews. No departmental complaints.
Just a rare opportunity for everyone to relax together for a little while. The atmosphere was casual. Mickey sat near the end of the table with a cigar balanced between his fingers. Oswald lounged lazily in his chair. Jessica listened quietly while occasionally sipping from a glass of water. Pomni sat nearby, attentive as always. Sonic looked only partially interested in the conversation. Bugs remained unusually quiet. Mario sat beside Marquinhos. Felix, meanwhile, had everyone's attention. “And that's when I realized I was completely lost in the woods.” Several people immediately laughed. Sonic groaned. “Oh great, the mighty adventurer is giving another boring story.” Felix pointed at him. “Hey now you weren't there.” “Tch, I wish I wasn't here now.” “Aww, you wound me blur blur.”
“Good.” More laughter spread through the room. Mickey chuckled surprisingly. But Felix ignored them. “As I was saying…” He sat forward. Clearly enjoying the attention. “I was exploring this old section of wilderness that nobody had mapped properly.” “Really now? All by yourself?” Jessica asked. Felix looked offended. “Of course by myself, you know how many times I've adventured by myself?” “Well if it’s big like your ego used to be, then I could imagine it.” “Huh- Hey now! Now uncalled for!” Felix would then wave his hand dismissively. “Then give us actual details then.” Mario shook his head. “Honestly you're lucky you even made it back.” “I always make it back.” The room erupted into various comments. Some of the Stars agreed. Some of the Stars disagreed. Felix grinned. “I was by myself for months sometimes, fellas.”
The words hit Marquinhos like a hammer. A sudden jolt inside his chest. His body froze. His ears twitched. But the room continued moving around him and nobody noticed immediately. Felix was still talking. Everyone remained focused on the story. Except Marquinhos. Because the words kept repeating. “I was by myself for months sometimes, fellas.” “I was by myself for months sometimes, fellas.” “I was by myself for months sometimes, fellas.” Something cold crawled down his spine. A feeling he recognized immediately. His fingers tightened against the table. The room suddenly felt too warm and too loud. His heartbeat quickened. As Felix continued speaking. The others laughed as Jessica made another joke. But Marquinhos couldn't hear any of it. The words kept repeating.
“By myself-” “-for months-” “By myself-” “-for months-” Something was pulling at him. A sensation deep inside his mind. Like invisible fingers digging through old scars. Searching and unearthing his stomach dropped. The conference room blurred. The edges of his vision darkened. Panic began rising inside his chest. “No… Please… Not here!” But the memory was already taking hold of Mark’s mind. The room vanished and the very first thing he felt was exhaustion. He was walking. His legs hurt. His feet hurt. Everything hurts. Yet he kept moving. The forest stretched endlessly around him. Towering trees blocked much of the sunlight. The world felt gray. Silent. Empty. Marquinhos looked down. His hands were slightly around his age now. Not the tiny hands of the frightened child from the first memory.
He was an adult. Around his early thirties. His second life. Then realization came instantly. He knew this version of himself. He recognized loneliness, exhaustion. Fear. Only the feeling remained. The crushing certainty that nobody was waiting for him. Nobody knew where he was. Nobody cared where he was. He simply existed. Moving from place to place. Surviving on just his will to survive. Then came the sound. A branch snapping. The reaction was immediate. His heart slammed against his ribs. Terror exploded through his body. “Run…” The thought appeared instantly. “Run… RUN!” His body obeyed before his mind could catch up. He sprinted through the forest. Branches clawed at his clothing. Roots threatened to trip him. Leaves whipped against his face. Behind him came voices.
The sound made his blood run cold. Searchers. All he knew about that at the time he was alive during his 2nd life was that they were dangerous. He didn't know why they hunted him. Only that they terrified him. He ran faster. His lungs burned. His legs screamed. But still he ran for his life. But the voices grew closer. Until panic completely consumed him. Then disaster struck. His foot caught on an exposed root. Pain erupted through his body as he crashed into the ground. The impact knocked the air from his lungs. For several seconds he couldn't. The conference room was still caught in that heavy silence. Nobody had moved properly since Jessica had touched Marquinhos’ shoulder. Even Felix, who usually had something to say about everything, stayed unusually quiet in his chair.
Marquinhos sat frozen at the table, eyes unfocused, chest rising and falling too quickly. His claws were still lightly dug into the edge of the desk without him realizing it, like his body was trying to anchor itself to something real. The forest was still there. Not fully. Not anymore. But pieces of it remained layered over reality like a stain he couldn’t blink away. The cold. The running. The falling. The certainty that something had ended in a way his mind refused to fully show him. His breathing hitched. Jessica’s hand was still on his shoulder. “Marquinhos… you okay?” she said again, quieter this time. But the sound felt far away. Like it was coming through water. Mario leaned in slightly, his expression tight with concern. “Hey, look at me.” The words should have helped but they didn’t reach him.
Because in his mind he wasn’t there. He was still in the forest. Still on the ground. Still surrounded by the Searchers. Slowly he lifted his head. Figures emerged from between the trees. Dark shapes. Distorted shapes. His mind refused to show their faces. Every detail blurred beyond recognition. As though even now his psyche was trying to protect him. The searchers surrounded him. He tried to crawl away. Tried to move. His body wouldn't cooperate. The exhaustion. The injuries. The fear. Everything weighed him down. He was trapped. And then came the feeling. Not pain. Something worse. Something impossible to describe. A sensation of losing pieces of himself. Identity. Existence. Being stripped away. Little by little. Until there was almost nothing left.
But throughout it all… Nobody came. Nobody saved him. Nobody found him. Nobody even knew he was there. The loneliness from the first memory suddenly connected to this one. Like pieces of a puzzle snapping together. Life after life. The same isolation. The same fear. The same abandonment. Then someone touched his shoulder. The memory shattered instantly. Marquinhos gasped. Reality slammed back into him. Then something inside Mark snapped. A sudden, violent spike of panic tore through him like lightning. His claws jerked instinctively. And before anyone could process what was happening a sharp, scratch of impact rang through the room. Mario let out a sudden shout of pain. “WaAaAaAaahh!” Everything shattered. The forest vanished instantly.
The screaming in Marquinhos’ mind cut off like a severed wire. Reality crashed all at once. His vision snapped into focus in fragments. Breathing. Light. Noise. Shapes. His own hands. They suddenly had some red stain on them. He blinked hard. Mario was in front of him, gripping his shoulder, wincing as he tried to stay steady. “Marq- hey-hey, it’s-a me!” Mario said quickly, voice strained but calm, trying not to escalate him. “Try and breathe gato-” But Marquinhos wasn’t hearing him properly. Mario’s face was wrong. Not because it wasn’t Mario. Because it looked like Mario, but it was blurred at the edges, like his mind couldn’t decide what he was supposed to see. The room around him was the same. The Stars were there. Jessica had stood up from her seat. Felix looked alarmed as Sonic got out of his chair.
But as he looked around he noticed that their faces weren’t right. They all looked indistinct. Unfinished. Like someone had erased the details. Marquinhos’ breathing spiked instantly. “No… No no no! STAY AWAY!” His body reacted before his mind could catch up. “No- wait Mark!” Mario started. But Marquinhos was already moving. The chair scraped violently against the floor as he shot up. It felt like the world suddenly tilted. There were too many eyes, voices. blurred shapes. His heart hammered so hard it felt painful. He didn’t process doors. Didn’t process space. Didn’t process anyone calling his name. He just ran. Out of the conference room. Down the hall. Behind him, the room erupted into motion. Mario took a step forward immediately, ignoring the sting in his shoulder.
“I need to go after him!” But before he could Dandy would grab his wrist. “Mario no! ” Mario turned sharply. Dandy stood there, expression unusually serious, holding onto him firmly but not aggressively. “Mario you’re bleeding out,” Dandy said quickly. “I have to treat the injury first before you even think about going over Marquinhos, we can’t have you bleeding out.” “I don’t care about that,” Mario snapped, trying to pull free. “He’s not okay, I have to-” “He just clawed you by accident in a dissociative state,” Dandy interrupted, firm but controlled. “If you run after him like this, you’ll make it worse and he might hurt you again.” Mario froze for half a second, jaw tightening. Jessica stepped closer, looking between them both. “Dandy is right, Mario,” she said quietly. “He didn’t recognize you.” “I-I know-a that,” Mario muttered, voice tight with frustration.
“That’s why-a I need to-” Felix finally spoke, unusually subdued. “Mario, he didn't see us,” Felix said. “None of us.” Silence followed that. A heavy, uncomfortable silence. Sonic crossed his arms, looking down the hallway where Marquinhos had disappeared. “… Pops that wasn’t him,” Sonic said quietly. Mario clenched his jaw. “I don’t care,” he said. “He’s scared out of his-a mind, guys. I’m not leaving him like that.” Before anyone could respond, Mickey stepped forward. His expression was controlled in a way that made the room feel even heavier. “Mario,” Mickey said calmly, cigar unlit for once, “Dandicus is right. You need to be treated first before you go after him.” Mario looked at him sharply. “And then what!?” Mario demanded. “We just let him run off like that!?” Mickey didn’t answer immediately.
His eyes stayed fixed on the doorway Marquinhos had disappeared into. Mickey would then speak up. “No,” Mickey said. “We don’t let him. We can’t just chase him blindly… In that state he’s in… he might hurt more than just you.” A pause. His tone hardened slightly, but not toward Mario. “After we stabilize this situation,” Mickey would pause for a moment trying to think of something. “We’ll try and calm him down.” Mario’s shoulders tensed, but he didn’t argue further. Because part of him knew Mickey was trying badly to keep things from getting worse. Dandy released Mario’s wrist, but stayed close enough to guide him toward first aid. Jessica exhaled slowly, as she would go over to the door and open it, she would then look down the hallway. “He’s gone.” Felix ran a hand through his fur, unusually quiet.
Sonic would put his hand on his hip as he groaned. “This isn’t good…” As the others start to talk on how they could help Mark was running down the stairs from the front of the WishUpon, not toward anything. Just away. Because right now, everything he saw had turned into something he couldn’t recognize anymore. The meeting room felt wrong as hours had passed since Marquinhos had run out of the conference room, but the tension hadn't left. Mario sat quietly with his bandaged shoulder resting against the table. The scratch itself wasn't severe, but his attention wasn't on the injury. It was on Marquinhos. Or rather where Marquinhos went. Jessica sat nearby, occasionally glancing toward the door. Sonic had abandoned his usual sarcastic commentary. Felix looked guilty.
Every time he thought about what had triggered the episode, his stomach twisted. Nobody blamed him. But he blamed himself. The room was silent when the door finally opened. Everyone looked up as Mickey stepped inside. Immediately, Mario knew something was wrong. Mickey looked exhausted. His ears were lower than normal. His shoulders looked tense. His clothing was slightly disheveled. He walked back toward his chair and sat down heavily. For a few moments he simply stared at the table, Mario would then speak up. “Mickey… Is he okay?” Mickey didn't answer right away. That alone made the room colder. The mouse rubbed a hand over his face. Then let out a long breath. “As of right now… Marquinhos is back at his apartment.” Mario would lean forward.
“Mickey…” The mouse looked up. His expression was troubled. “He calmed down eventually.” Jessica frowned. “Can you tell us what happened?” Mickey stared at the tabletop for several seconds. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than usual. “I-I… I found him three floors downstairs and… He'd cornered one of the security guards.” The room instantly went still. Sonic's eyes widened. Felix froze. Even Oswald straightened. Mario felt his stomach drop. “...What? D-Did he attack someone?” Mickey swallowed. “Not when I got there.” His voice came quickly. “He wasn't hunting anyone down thankfully.” The mouse shook his head. “He thought the guard was trying to hurt him.” The room remained silent. Mickey's gaze drifted away. Back to the memory and what he'd walked into.
When security had called him, they didn't know what to do. All they'd said was that one of the Stars was having some kind of breakdown. What Mickey found when he was called into the hallway was three terrified guards and an almost feral Marquinhos. “He was scared and out of his mind.” Mickey's voice lowered further. “I was honestly… Terrified.” The room listened carefully. “He kept backing away every time somebody got close.” Jessica frowned. “He didn't recognize any of them?” Mickey shook his head. “No… He barely recognized me.” Mickey looked down. “He'd look at me for a second.” The mouse hesitated. “It was almost like he'd just look right through me.” Mario clenched his jaw but Mickey continued. “O-One of the guards got too close to him...” Silence. The room suddenly felt smaller.
The mouse's expression darkened as he would close his eyes briefly. “And Mark reacted.” The words sounded painfully restrained. It almost sounded like Mickey was deliberately avoiding details. “Mickey… What happened?” Sonic asked quietly. Mickey opened his eyes. “He fought back.” The room remained silent. The mouse looked visibly uncomfortable. “Mark defended himself from the guard.” A knot formed in everyone's stomach. Because all of the Stars knew exactly how strong Marquinhos was. People sometimes forgot because of how calm he usually was. How gentle or how controlled he usually was. But Marquinhos wasn't an ordinary cat. He was enormous. Built like a predator. Strong enough to move equipment by himself. Strong enough to lift things most people couldn't.
He was strong enough that when he lost control… Mickey would normally have to send the security team to pin him down until he couldn't move. Mickey's jaw tightened. “The guard got lucky, he nearly had his arm torn off...” “W-What do you mean?" Sonic asked. Mickey stared at the table. “When I got there… he had the guard on the floor.” The room went completely silent. “The guard was trying to shove him off… and he started kicking and hitting Mark.” Mickey swallowed. “And Mark…” The mouse looked away. “He wasn't so happy about that… and he grabbed the guard's arm.” The mouse's ears lowered. “And he nearly tore it out of the socket trying to get free.” Nobody spoke. Mario's face had gone pale. Jessica covered her mouth. Felix and Pomni both looked horrified.
Mickey rubbed his eyes. “I know we’ve seen that big guy act scary before… but I've never seen him like that before.” His voice cracked slightly. “I tried to get his attention, tried to show him that nobody was gonna hurt him, and- He looked at me like he didn't know who I was.” The room became even quieter. The mouse stared at the floor. “I thought he was gonna lunge at me.” Nobody knew what to say. The fear in Mickey's voice was genuine. Eventually Mario spoke. “How did you get him home in that state?” Mickey sighed. “I stayed with him, I told security to back off and to give him space. The mouse shook his head. “By the looks of it they were making it worse.” Another pause. “He slowly started recognizing me again.” The mouse stared at the table.
He would slowly place his hands onto the table. “And on the way back to his place, he seemed to calm down, not by much- but enough to where he looked like he was not fully gone.” Mickey's expression softened. “But… He kept looking around like he expected something to attack him.” The room felt heavy. “He wouldn't stop checking corners.” A pause. “He wouldn't stop shaking.” Mario lowered his gaze. He imagined seeing Mark in that state. Seeing him reduced to that state felt wrong. Eventually Mickey leaned back in his chair. “I chatted with him for a few minutes before leaving.” Mario would then speak up. “He’s alone right now?” “Yes… but I made sure that he fell asleep after we got him home.” The mouse exhaled. “I wrote a note next to his bedside and that I was gonna come back to check on him later.”
Eventually Oswald quietly stood. The rabbit looked around the room. The usual seriousness was gone from his expression and it was replaced with worry. “The meeting's over.” None of the Stars complained, Nobody lingered. One by one, the Stars began gathering their things. But as they left, the same thought lingered in every mind. Sleep should have brought relief. But it didn't. The moment Marquinhos slipped beneath consciousness, his mind dragged him somewhere else. All that he could see was an endless black void stretching beyond sight. At first it wasn't frightening. It was empty. Almost peaceful. Marquinhos stood alone in the darkness. His paws rested on nothing. Silent. He slowly looked around. There was no horizon, no sky or ground. Nothing that could tell him where he was.
Then he would slowly start to have a strange feeling settle in his chest. It made his stomach twist. It felt familiar. Something his mind recognized immediately. Something it had tried very hard to forget. His ears flattened. A chill crawled down his spine. Then he heard it. A voice. Tiny. Distant. “Marquinhos…” He froze in fear as the voice echoed through the darkness. Soft. Sad. Almost fragile. Like it belonged to someone who was afraid of speaking too loudly. For several seconds he didn't move. Then the voice came again. “Marquinhos…” Slowly he turned. And his heart stopped. A child stood behind him. He was tiny. Thin. Covered in dirt. His clothes hung loosely from his frame. The fabric looked worn from months of use. His fur was messy. Unkempt. Several patches were matted from old mud and grime.
The little kitten looked exhausted, as he stared back at him Marquinhos immediately recognized him. That fear. That desperate need for someone to care. The child was him. Eight years old. The same child he'd seen in fragments. The same child from the earlier visions. The same child who had been abandoned in an unfamiliar town. Neither spoke. Neither moved. They simply stared at each other. Adult Marquinhos felt tears immediately yet slowly coming down his face. The child looked so small. Much smaller than he remembered. Looking at him now, it was impossible not to notice. The younger version of himself tilted his head. Then the darkness behind him began to move. At first it resembled smoke. Black clouds drifting through the void. Then images started appearing, he saw broken pieces of memory.
Each in little fragments. Like shattered glass floating through darkness. Marquinhos immediately recognized them. The town. The rain. The storm. His breathing hitched. “N-No…” The images would keep showing more than before. Showing what happened after the woman screamed. “MOVE!” The memory sharpened. The storm was worse than he'd realized. Buildings were collapsing. Wood snapping. People shouting over one another. Rain hammered against rooftops. The entire town had become chaotic. And there he was. Small. Scared. Alone. Nobody holding his hand. Nobody calling his name. Nobody protecting him. Just an eight-year-old child staying still. The image hurt. Far more than the actual death. The little boy suddenly beneath a wooden overhang.
The younger Marquinhos standing beside him lowered his gaze. Adult Marquinhos already knew what was coming. His entire body began shaking. The image flickered. Wood creaked. Rain poured. The little boy looked up. And then the darkness swallowed the memory. Silence followed. Absolute silence. Marquinhos covered his mouth. His legs felt weak. The younger version of himself simply watched. Expressionless. As though he'd relived this moment thousands of times. Then more images appeared. Different ones. The aftermath. People searching through debris. Workers. Volunteers. Residents. Voices shouting. Calling names. Looking for their loved ones. Looking for their family. Even looking for friends. Everyone in the town was searching for someone.
Everyone except him. The void around them felt colder. The younger cat finally spoke. His voice was quiet. “Funny how they found everyone else first.” Marquinhos immediately looked at him. The child continued. “They knew who everybody belonged to.” The words sounded rehearsed. “Everyone in that town. They had families, had homes, They even had names.” Marquinhos felt tears running down his cheeks. The child lowered his head. “We didn't.” The darkness shifted again as another memory surfaced. Recovery workers lifting broken wood. Searching. Digging. Eventually stopping. Finding something. Finding someone. The images became blurry. His mind still refused to show details. The workers had found him. Too late. Marquinhos wrapped his arms around himself desperately trying to stop shaking.
The younger cat stared into the darkness. “When they finally found us…” His voice cracked slightly. “...nobody knew who we were.” The younger cat slowly turned toward him. Dark green eyes glistening. “They couldn't tell anybody… There wasn't anybody to tell.” The silence afterward was crushing. Marquinhos couldn't speak, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. The child stared at him. Then came the words that truly broke him. “They forgot.” A tear slid down the child's face. “They forgot really fast.” The confession sounded almost ashamed. As though forgetting him was somehow understandable. As though he deserved it. And that hurt more than anything. Marquinhos immediately stepped forward. “No.” The word escaped him instantly. The child looked up, seemingly being confused. “No.”
His voice shook violently. “You weren't forgotten.” The younger version of himself stared. “But they did forget us.” “No.” “They threw us to the river because they were unsure what to do with the body.” Marquinhos froze. The child continued speaking. “They didn't know what else to do.” More tears formed. “So they got rid of us.” The words shattered something inside him. Because the child wasn't speaking with hatred. He genuinely believed it. The belief had rooted itself so deeply that it had survived multiple lifetimes. The idea that he had mattered so little that the world had simply moved on. That nobody had cared. That nobody had mourned him. The younger cat looked directly at him. Voice barely above a whisper. “What did I do wrong?” The question echoed through the void. Over. And over. And over.
Until Marquinhos dropped to his knees immediately without thinking he grabbed the child and pulled him close. The little boy stiffened in surprise. “No.” Marquinhos was crying openly now. “You didn't do anything wrong.” The words came out broken. “Do you hear me?” The child stared back with uncertainty. “You didn't do anything wrong.” He tightened his grip holding the child like someone should have done all those years ago. “You were scared… You were hungry… You were alone.” Tears fell freely. “You were just a kid.” The younger version of himself trembled slightly and for a long time neither spoke. The darkness remained still. Silent. Watching. As he held his younger self in the darkness a terrifying thought surfaced. If this was only the first life… If this was only the first death…
The darkness didn't simply surround Marquinhos anymore. It was becoming something else. Something alive. Something that he remembered. Something that knew exactly where to hurt him. He remained frozen on his knees, breath ragged, paws pressed against the sides of his head as if he could physically stop the nightmare from entering his mind. It didn't work. Nothing worked. The voices were no longer whispers. They were everywhere. Behind him. In front of him. Above him. Inside him. Each one sounded different. Some sounded like strangers. Some sounded like people he'd met. Some sounded like himself. That was the worst part. The voices that sounded like him. Because those were the hardest to ignore. The rotting corpse of his second life continued its slow approach.
Every step produced a horrible creaking sound. Its joints moved wrong. Its body looked worn down by years of decay. Yet its eyes remained locked onto him. Unblinking. Accusing. “You ran.” The voice echoed across the void as the darkness immediately responded. Then a forest appeared around them. Not the entire forest but pieces of it. Broken fragments suspended in the void. Trees. Mud. Branches. Rain. The smell of wet earth. Marquinhos watched himself running. Again. And again. And again. Every direction he looked showed another version of the same memory. The same desperate sprint, the same fear, the same panic, the same ending. The corpse would then point towards something. “You knew something was following us.” Another memory flashed.
The younger version of himself stumbling through the undergrowth. Bleeding. Exhausted. Terrified. “You knew we were being hunted.” Another flash. The searchers moving between trees. The glimpses were brief. Never fully clear as his mind still refused to reveal exactly what they were only enough to understand which terrified him. “You could've stayed hidden.” The corpse took another step. “You could've stayed quiet… You could've survived.” The words struck harder than any physical blow because somewhere deep inside himself, Marquinhos realized that part of him blamed himself for being so careless. The corpse's voice became harsher. “You got scared.” The forest around them vanished. The river appeared. Cold water rushing through darkness. Marquinhos felt his stomach drop.
The image from moments earlier returned. The tiny body. His body. Eight years old and being carried away by the current. The sight punched the air from his lungs. “Stop it…” The word escaped him. Weak. Fragile. The corpse immediately turned toward the river. “Look at him.” Marquinhos squeezed his eyes shut. “Look at him.” “No!” “Look.” The nightmare forced his eyes open. The river became clearer. He could see the small shape disappearing into the darkness. Tiny. Alone. Forgotten. The corpse's voice softened. Somehow that made it worse. “Nobody came.” Marquinhos shook violently. “Stop it!” “Nobody knew.” “Stop!” "Nobody cared." “STOP IT!” He cried out as the darkness exploded and the voices surged. Not from the corpse this time but from every direction thousands of them all began speaking at once.
Each trying to drown each other out. The nightmare gathered them together and gave them voices. “You were forgotten.” “You're always forgotten.” “People only tolerate you.” “They don't actually want you around.” “You're only useful, that's all.” “Once you're no longer useful they'll leave you alone.” Marquinhos curled inward as his claws dug into his arms. His breathing became frantic as the voices kept coming. “You work harder because you're afraid they'll abandon you.” “You stay late because you're afraid they'll stop needing you.” “You help everyone because you're terrified they'll stop loving you.” The corpse stopped directly in front of him towering over him. “You know they're right.” Marquinhos looked up as the tears streamed freely down his face. “They do care about me.”
The response came instantly. The corpse tilted its head. “Do you?” A sharp pain erupted behind his eyes. Another memory surfaced. Loss. Fear. Abandonment. Being left behind. Watching people disappear. Watching doors close. Watching lives end. The accumulated grief of multiple lifetimes. Too much for one mind. Too much for one heart. The nightmare pressed harder as he heard voices screamed. “You don't deserve happiness.” “You ruin everything.” “You're broken.” “You're damaged.” “Nobody stays forever.” “Why would they stay for you?” The darkness itself seemed to close in like a giant hand squeezing the dream tighter and tighter. Then the corpse would suddenly crouch in front of him as his face inches away. Its voice dropped to a whisper. “You remember all of them, don't you?” Marquinhos froze.
The corpse would let out a terrible smile. “You remember losing.” The river appeared. The forest appeared. The storm appeared. All around them. Spinning endlessly. “You remember dying.” His heart stopped. He would suddenly see a flash of images all at one time, with each memory came another loss. Another ending. Another wound. The corpse reached toward him. Its fingers brushed his shoulder. Ice cold. “You still have more to remember from your 2nd life.” The darkness trembled. The corpse's voice became almost gentle. “There are still five lives hidden inside you.” Marquinhos felt pure terror. There were still five lives. The realization struck him hard as the corpse saw it and smiled with bitter cruelty. Before Marquinhos could react, the corpse lunged as its hand wrapped around his throat.
The force knocked him backward as his claws instinctively grabbed at the wrist, choking him, but it felt like iron. It wouldn't move nor would budge as the corpse would then closer as Its dead eyes locked onto his. “You don't deserve to be alive after all of your mistakes.” Marquinhos immediately shook his head. “No. No. No.” The corpse tightened its grip. “You never did.” His lungs burned. His vision blurred. The nightmare around him twisted violently. The storm. The river. The forest. All of them were spinning around him. “You got that child killed.” The image of his eight-year-old self flashed before his eyes. Crushed beneath splintered wood. “You got him killed.” Marquinhos' eyes widened. “It wasn’t my fault!” The word barely escaped him but the corpse ignored it. “You got the wanderer killed.” The forest appeared.
Then the searchers. He would then feel the sudden rise of panic and helplessness. And eventually the end. “If you hadn't run-” Its grip tightened. “If you hadn't panicked- If you'd just been smarter-” His grip would be tighter. “If you'd just been better-” Marquinhos couldn't breathe. His chest felt like it was on fire as the tears streamed down his face. He clawed desperately at the corpse's arm. The corpse lowered its face until it was inches from his own. “Everything you touch gets hurt.” The voices exploded around him. “You're a burden.” “You're exhausting.” “You're too much.” “You're too broken.” “Nobody stays forever.” “Nobody ever stays.” Marquinhos squeezed his eyes shut. But he could still hear them. The voices were inside him. They always had been. The corpse's voice became almost gentle.
That somehow hurt more. “Look at you.” Marquinhos opened his eyes as the corpse stared back. “You're still afraid after all these years… You're still that scared little kid.” The corpse smiled as he then asked quietly: “Why do you think they always leave?” Marquinhos froze. The darkness became silent. The voices stopped. Everything stopped. Just for that one question. “Why do you think they always leave?” The answer immediately tried to form. And it terrified him. The corpse saw it. Saw the hesitation and fear. He laughed cruelly as a sudden light would slowly wander around, the blue light came. The darkness shattered. The corpse barely had time to turn before the blue beam struck it as the impact erupted through the nightmare. The corpse screamed as its grip vanished from Mark’s throat.
Marquinhos collapsed onto the ground as he felt the air slamming back into his lungs. He doubled over. Coughing. Gasping. Shaking. His entire body trembled uncontrollably. The nightmare around him fractured. The river disappeared. The forest vanished. The storm broke apart. The voices faltered. Then died out completely Marquinhos remained curled on the ground. Too exhausted to move. Too exhausted to cry. Too exhausted to think. A shadow fell over him. He looked up. Astro stood there. Tall. Cloaked. Bathed in blue light. For several seconds neither spoke. Astro simply looked at him. Astro crouched slightly. “Marquinhos.” His voice was calm. The feline immediately felt tears threatening again. Astro looked at him for a long moment and then he would quietly speak to him.
“It's time to wake up.” But Mark didn't move. He was scared of waking up. Scared of remembering. Scared of being alone. Astro seemed to understand. “It's okay. You're safe now. It's time to go home.” Then another voice reached him. Faint. Far away. “Mark…” His ears twitched. The voice sounded familiar. “Mark...” Closer now. The dream began breaking apart. The blue light brightened as the darkness cracked. “Marquinhos?” A hand touched his shoulder and then everything shattered. Marquinhos woke with a gasp. His entire body jerked upright and for a second he didn't know where he was. His heart was pounding so hard it hurt. His chest felt tight as his throat ached. Then his eyes darted wildly around the room. Then he saw Mickey sitting beside him. “Hey whiskers, you okay?” That single sentence broke him.
Then the first sob escaped before he could stop it. Then another. Then another. Suddenly he couldn't breathe, couldn't think. couldn't hold himself together anymore. “M-Mickey…” His voice cracked. The mouse immediately moved closer. “A-Are you okay?” That only made it worse. Because Mickey sounded scared. Marquinhos grabbed him. Like how someone falling off a cliff grabbing the only thing keeping them from disappearing. His arms wrapped around Mickey desperately. His claws dug into the back of his shirt. His body shook violently. And then he started crying. Not quiet tears. Not dignified tears. The kind that hurts. The kind that comes from somewhere deep. Years of pain pouring out all at once. Mickey froze. Only briefly. Then he wrapped both arms around him, holding him tightly and firmly.
Marquinhos buried his face into Mickey's shoulder trying desperately to stop crying. “He was right…” The words slipped out before he could stop them. Mickey immediately frowned. “What?” Marquinhos shook his head violently as tears soaked Mickey's shirt. “He was right…” His voice broke. “He was right…” Mickey gently grabbed the back of his head as he kept him close. “Hey… I’m right here.” The response came immediately. Without hesitation. Without doubt. Marquinhos squeezed his eyes shut until finally Mickey grabbed his shoulders just enough to make him look up. Marquinhos' face was soaked with tears. “Listen to me.” His voice was quiet. “If nobody cared, I wouldn't be here.” Marquinhos froze. Mickey's ears lowered. “If nobody cared, Mario wouldn't have been trying to run after you.”
Then a pause. “Jessica wouldn't have been worried.” Another. “The others wouldn't have stayed.” Mickey swallowed. Then added quietly: “And I sure as hell wouldn't have spent hours making sure that you were okay whiskers.” Marquinhos stared at him. Marquinhos sat quietly against Mickey's shoulder. The tears had finally slowed, but they hadn't truly stopped. Every now and then his body would tremble slightly as another fragment of the nightmare surfaced in his mind. Mickey simply kept an arm around him, letting the silence settle between them. Eventually Marquinhos lowered his gaze. His ears flattened against his head. A small, vulnerable look crossed his face. One that Mickey rarely saw. “Mickey… Can I ask you something?”
His voice was hoarse from crying. Mickey glanced down at him. “What is it?” Marquinhos hesitated for several seconds; he couldn't bring himself to say it. Then the words finally slipped out. “Do I really deserve to be with WishUpon? With the Stars? With… you?” The question was barely above a whisper. Mickey froze as Marquinhos stared down at his hands as he was unable to meet his eyes. “I mean…” His voice cracked slightly. “What if those voices are right about me?” Mickey immediately shook his head. “Marq… They aren't.” “But-” “They aren't.” The response came so quickly that it cut him off. Marquinhos finally looked up.
Mickey's expression had softened. The mouse reached over and gently lifted his chin. Trying to make sure he could see him. For a moment neither spoke. Then Mickey leaned forward slightly. “Mark… You're my friend… I care about you.” Marquinhos felt his chest tighten. Mickey wasn't the type to say things like that often. Which made hearing it now mean even more. Mickey gave a small shrug. “As far as I'm concerned, that's reason enough.” A weak laugh escaped Marquinhos. A few tears still slipped down his face. Mickey gently bumped his shoulder. “Besides…” A faint smirk appeared. “You'd be pretty hard to get rid of.” That earned a tired snort from Marquinhos.
☆~The End of: Bad Memories ~☆
(For those who actually made it to the end thank you so much for reading my story! This honestly wouldn't have been possible with @flygutzz & @nortsauce latest update for @myth-of-the-machine those who enjoyed the story thank you for reading it ♥︎)
