The Happy Mask Salesman was beginning to regret opening his shop in Hyrule. At first it had seemed like a grand idea: there was so much business to be found among the Hylians, and business had thrived. But, they had warned him.
Only the brave opened shop in Hyrule, too many monsters, too many aggressive local businesses. No one could compete with the potion makers, or the weaponries, or the pubs; the Hylians made sure of that. Hyrule wasn't worth it, but the Happy Mask Salesman was a business man and he sought to make the most of it.
It was a Monday when the fairy-boy kicked down his door. The boy walked over the splintered remains in his leather boots a grim expression on his face. The boy's blue eyes burned bright as silver, his gloved hands reached for the Happy Mask Salesman and he pulled the man off his feet.
What was most disturbing about the situation was the fact that the boy couldn't be more than ten perhaps even nine years old. And though the blue of his eyes was ancient the boy's scarred and haggard face was far too young.
"Can I help you little boy?" He knew why the boy had come, of course he did even as he bowed up and down in apology. The fairy-boy was a very diligent worker, and now he had run out of all the masks to sell. Yes the boy was a very good salesman, because now there were no more masks. And that was what worried the merchant.
"I came for what you promised." The boy said, his voice being the voice of the winds howling in between the peaks of the high mountains. Yes, he was beginning to realize that Hyrule was a mistake.
The merchants had been right when they laughed at him, but he had been stupid, terribly stupid.
"Eh?" It was the only question he could formulate, as he was still clutched by the boy's small hands. The boy drew him closer, and then released his shirt with one of his hands in order to point at the sign next to the counter.
"The bottom." He said for clarification, the Happy Mask Man nodded furiously before attempting to read the painted script at the bottom. His eyes rested on the words happiness, and masks, but other than that he saw nothing.
"I'm sorry little boy." He said in near panic, "I don't understand." He had painted the sign, no he hadn't the man with the beard had, no wait yes he had. He had painted the sign, but it wasn't important, why would it be important? It was a sign in common Hylian script, not important, no not important at all.
"No, you don't." The boy began to smile, his blue eyes dancing as his free hand reached back to unsheathe his sword.
Oh dear, he should never have come to Hyrule. This was the end, he was leaving, he was going to die or he was going to run. The merchants were right, too many monsters, too many local businesses, Hyrule was a cursed place. Oh dear, who would clean the shop once the boy slit his throat with the sword. Certainly not the bearded man, not even the hag from next door. The one with the cats. No one would clean the shop until Wednesday at least, and what then? Oh dear.
"Please, little boy, I'm sorry. Forgive me, I'm sorry. There are no more masks to sell, please little boy." And how he had laughed at those wise men, the men who had stayed out of Hyrule. They must have known about the fairy-boy, the boy with the yellow hair and the cold blue eyes. They must have known about the little monster in green with the sword and the Hylian shield.
"You promised me that I'd be happy. That once all the masks were gone I'd be happy." The boy drew the sword off his back, the smile growing ever worse ever darker. He shook his head and a horrendous laughing sound began to emanate across the room like the cawing of a raven.
"I'm sorry little boy, I'm so very terribly sorry." And he was, sorry he ever came, sorry he ever thought of business before fear. Happy masks indeed. The store had only brought him death and the critical eye of strangers, and the little boy in green with the blue eyes like death.
The boy rested the sword against the merchant's pale neck, watching as the blood began to trickle from the place where the silver touched. "You lied to me."
With the slight increase in pressure the Happy Mask Salesman found his nerves of steel all but frayed and decided the best thing to do was to faint and just let him cut his head off while he was good and unconscious.
"That was horrible, I think that's the worst thing you've ever done."
"Worse than the chickens?"
"Yes, possibly worse than the chickens. You caused the man to faint, look he's bleeding to death!"
"Worse than the windmill incident?"
"Yes, worse than the windmill incident!"
"I don't know, that poor man who runs the windmill he'll never forgive me for that one. I think I drove him mad."
"He's bleeding to death! Are you sure you didn't cut an artery or something you can't just leave him there!"
"Why not? He lied to me, he ripped me off, he deserves to rot there like a dead fish."
"See this is your problem, you don't care about people."
"You know I liked it better when I didn't have a fairy, things were so much easier back then."
By the end of the day The Happy Mask Man decided he was just happy to be alive and able to get the hell out of Hyrule while he still could. Standing in the city square Link could just make out his orange hair flickering like a candle's flame as he ran off into the distance.
Mondays generally were a large disappointment.
Author's note: Well, I felt there needed to be a fic where Link tortures the Happy Mask Salesman for no reason other than 'I can' or 'He ripped me off' so here you have it. Thank you to readers and the like, review button's at the bottom of the page.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Legend of Zelda, more specifically The Ocarina of Time.