Wreck-it-Ralph Fanfiction – Interrogation (Kind!Candy AU)
Contains: violence, swearing, torture and as usual a buttload of feels.
King Candy was driving his kart at high speed over the roads of Sugar Rush. He needed to let off some steam after what happened at the beginning of the Random Roster Race that day. First that glitch Vanellope showed up and actually managed to enroll herself in the race. Next that big gorilla Wreck-it-Ralph came out of nowhere and destroyed half of the stands. But at least he managed to get that big oaf to leave the game. That is what he told those donut cops to do.
But that glitch! That glitch was becoming a real pain.
Pressing his foot further down on the gas pedal made the engine of his kart roar even louder. The wheels spun rapidly, kicking up sugar dust.
It felt good to be able to race. The world is a blur as it all speeds by in a flash. It is just you and the kart. He was the best and he was not going to let that little imp of a glitch take that away. He had to find her and get rid of her once and for all.
Then the king got an idea.
[Maybe he knows…]
Turning the wheel, King Candy made a mad U-turn and raced back to the castle.
[It might be hard, though… That old man is as stubborn as a mule. But I’ve gotta try!]
Kicking his engine into overdrive, he sped past the road he travelled on only minutes earlier. When he arrived at the castle, he parked his kart in its designated place. He only slowed down inches before he would hit the fence. The kart came to a standstill. Perfection. As to be expected from the king of racing.
King Candy stepped out of his kart and shut the door. Removing his goggles and taking out a handkerchief from his jacket, he wiped his face as it was covered in sugar dust and candy dirt. He did not have to wait for Sour Bill to open the gates of the castle. It was as if Sour Bill was trained to know when he would be coming home.
“Welcome back, sire…” the servant mumbled in his usual unimpressed tone.
“Thank you, Sour Bill!” King Candy answered as he dumped the handkerchief on his subject’s head. “There is some business I need to attend to in the fungeon. You look after things while I am gone.”
The staircase down to the fungeon was long, dark and not at all pleasant. The further down the king descended, the darker it got. The walls were no longer colored bright pink (or excuse me, salmon) but turned grimly greyish blue. A large, heavy gate guarded the entrance to the dungeon. Using one of the very few keys that existed for this door, King Candy entered.
Behind the entrance was yet another hallway with smaller doors left and right. Each of these doors led to cells. Most of the time, these cells were empty as nobody was bold enough to deserve a stay in the fungeon.
However, there were two doors at the end of the hallway that were both guarded by the same kind of gate as the entrance. One of these cells was empty as it was the one King Candy had saved for that wretched glitch. Once she was in his possession, he would give her a one-way ticket to this place.
The second cell was the only one that was actually occupied at the moment. By a very, very special “guest”. Using yet another key, the king turned the lock and opened the door.
The inside of the cell was pitch black at first, even darker than the hallway. But after a few seconds, the King’s eyes adjusted and he could make his way in.
“It’s been quite some time…” a voice sounded from the darkness.
“Oh? Were you beginning to miss me, old man?” King Candy answered as he lit a little torch beside the doorway.
As the room illuminated, the light cast a clear view on the prisoner. Chained to the wall at the other side of the room was an old man dressed in dirty rags. His hair was disheveled and he had scrapes and bruises.
“As much as I would miss a bad tooth-ache!” the prisoner answered, lifting up his head to look at the king.
As the light from the torch fell on his face, it became evident that it bared an astonishing resemblance to that of the king. In fact, it was exactly the same except that staying in this dark chamber changed his complexion a bit and gave him a very tired expression.
“I guess you need a favor from me. Is that why you’re visiting?”
“Don’t get smart with me, old man!” King Candy spoke in a warning voice.
The prisoner moved a bit to shift his position. His restraints did not rattle since they were not chains. Instead, they were sturdy wires that almost looked like electrical cords. They ran up from the cuffs on his wrists and into the walls. They did not give him much room to move so most of the time, the old man had to resort to standing in order to give his arms some rest.
King Candy approached him.
“Cut the nonsense and tell me; where is she?” he asked.
“Where is who?” his lookalike replied with a smirk. “You need to be specific here.”
This smarmy answer gave the monarch a sting of annoyance. He was not in the mood to play around.
“You can’t blame me. After all, you have been keeping me down here for so long I have grown forgetful.”
“Then maybe you need something to jog your memory…” King Candy said in a low, menacing voice as he raised his hand.
With a snap of his fingers, the cords that held the prisoner tightened and forced him to stand upright. Next there was a crackling sound of electricity and the old man gave a painful cry. After a few seconds, the cords weakened again and he slumped back down. A slither of smoke snaked upwards from his cuffs.
“I’ll ask you again; where is she?”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about!”
King Candy stepped closer to his doppelganger and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, forcing him to look him in the eye.
“Where is your daughter?”
The eyes of the old man seemed to glimmer for a brief second. Then he gritted his teeth.
“Whoever you are, you will not get away with this…”
Now it was the king’s turn to smirk.
“Oh? I have been getting away with this for the past fifteen years!” he grinned, but it soon turned back into a frown. “Now where is she?”
“Someone is bound to find out sooner or later…”
King Candy was really getting mad now. Not being able to electrocute because of him standing too close to his prisoner, he raised his hand again in a warning.
“Tell me…” he hissed through his teeth.
“You can’t keep up the pretence forever…”
The king’s hand trembled.
In a flash, his hand swooped down and slapped the old man across the cheek. The moment the hand made contact, his lookalike glitched up. Bits of pixels jittered all over his body. After it subsided, the only thing the prisoner did was glare.
“You should know where she is. After all, you made her what she is now. You made me what I am now. Rather untidy of you not to clean up the mess you make.”
“Will you stop talking?!” King Candy shouted and slapped him again.
The moment the hand hit his cheek, the other king reached out his own for as much as he could and could barely grab his attacker’s sleeve. The glitching caused both kings to jitter and crackle. Startled by his own programming being scrambled, King Candy broke free from the grip and took a step back. Flashes of red pixels ran across his body and in a split second, his face looked completely different. Grey skin, bright yellow eyes and a menacing expression. After what seemed only moments, the glitching ceased and the king was restored to his former appearance.
His doppelganger stared.
“What are you looking at?” the king growled, adjusting his jacket.
“I know who you are… It all makes sense now!” the other king muttered. “You’re Turbo, aren’t you? That rebellious racer who caused two games to be unplugged at the same time.”
Turbo jerked his head to look at his prisoner. He felt nervous. The chance of anyone walking in on them right now was small, but it would spell disaster for him if anybody found out.
“You lost your game so now you’ve taken over mine… That’s how it is, isn’t it?”
“So what? Nobody will believe you!” the imposter grinned in an attempt to reassure himself. “Everybody thinks you’re just a crazy old man and not many people know you exist at all. I’ve erased you from everybody’s memories!”
A strange, serene smile formed on the prisoner’s face. He looked at King Candy with determination.
“You know what, Turbo?” he began. “A lie is like an old, beaten-up race kart. Sure, it can still run. It can keep ahead of other racers. It may even win first place. But in the end, it will start to rattle. Start to slow down and come apart until it can’t run anymore. No matter how much you try to fix it, the only place it’ll end up is the scrap yard.”
Not liking where this little monologue was going, King Candy took a step closer, pursing his lips together in anger.
“And you, Turbo, are the most beaten-up kart I have ever seen. “
“Will you… shut… up!”
Turbo clenched his fist.
“Hiding underneath a spiffy paint job!”
A punch landed square on the real king’s cheek, making him jitter and glitch. Recovering quickly, the old man looked straight at his attacker and slowly shook his head.
“It won’t last, Turbo. It won’t,” he spoke almost in a condescending tone.
The racer felt a sting of annoyance and fear each time the king said his real name, as if he was afraid that someone else would hear.
The real King Candy then began to chuckle slightly.
“It’s rather funny actually…”
“What is?” the imposter growled, reluctant to find out.
The chuckles grew louder.
“You think that by stealing my name, my face and everything else that I was, you can keep on racing? You can’t even be yourself anymore. What will you do after Sugar Rush gets plugged out? Hop to another game to race? And then another one? And another one?”
The prisoner began to laugh louder and louder. Turbo began to feel really uncomfortable. This old man was in shackles and in pain, yet he was laughing. It was beginning to creep him out. This guy needed to shut up. Now!
“Be quiet!” he shouted as he slapped the real king across the cheek again. But this only made him laugh even more.
“Oh, come on, Turbo! Hoohoo! Where’s your sense of humor?”
There was a second slap but the prisoner kept on laughing.
“Have some candy!”
A third and fourth slap.
“Hoohoo! That was a nice one!”
“SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” the fake king screamed as he landed more hits.
Feeling out of breath, he grabbed the real king by his shirt again.
“Are you so desperate to die, old man?” he hissed with a hoarse voice.
“You can’t kill me unless you take me out of this game, remember?” his lookalike hiccupped with laughter. “Oh wait, you can’t! You can’t do anything with me, because I am a glitch thanks to you!”
Turbo was seething with anger. He felt like he was about to explode.
“That’s hysterical! You made me like this and now you can’t get rid of me!”
“I can kill you! Being a glitch could mean you won’t regenerate!” the imposter tried to retaliate.
The real king was still laughing, although not as loudly as before.
“Or I will and who says it’ll be here? Maybe I’ll glitch out and end up somewhere in Sugar Rush. Somewhere you can’t find me. What will you do then? Will you take that risk?” he smirked.
Feeling sick to his stomach with these mind games, King Candy raised his hand again. Then a smile formed on his face. A sadistic smile.
“Fine, then I won’t…”
The sound of a snapping finger rang through the cell and the cords once again surged with electricity, more intense than the previous one. Taken by surprise, the real king gave out a loud and painful cry. After a few moments, it was over. The prisoner twitched and a few glitches jittered across his body. He was not laughing anymore.
“I’ll ask you one more time. Where is your daughter?”
Hearing that question again, the real King Candy looked up at his interrogator. His face was stern and angry, slightly wrinkled from the pain. His eyes seemed to gleam with determination as if somehow a tiny spark of hope was still shining in them.
“I don’t know…” he growled softly, not breaking his glare.
Another electrocution and Turbo repeated his question. But the answer was the same.
“I don’t know!” the old man shouted this time. “And even if I knew, I would never tell you. I don’t care if you keep me here for another fifteen years!”
Realizing that this was getting him nowhere, King Candy began to grow tired. But he was not going to give this smart-mouth the last laugh. Mustering his strength, he landed the biggest punch so far, making his doppelganger drop to his knees. He was ready to give him another one, when he heard footsteps behind him. Regaining his composure and adjusting his bow tie, he turned around.
“Your highness, there has been an alarm,” Duncan said as he looked in the cell.
“An alarm?” King Candy said as he shuffled a little to the side, strategically blocking the view of his lookalike to the police officer.
The donut cop seemed nervous. He did not like the fungeon at all.
“Beard Papa from the kart bakery has spotted the glitch in the factory,” he reported.
Turbo’s eyes gleamed deviously.
“Is that so? Then we better get there right away. We wouldn’t want her to get away now, do we?” he said, eyeing his prisoner slightly.
“E-everything alright in here?” Duncan asked almost reluctantly.
King Candy quickly walked to the door and put out the torch, not allowing the cop to see inside.
“Sadly, this poor old man is not showing any signs of improvement…” he sighed, faking concern. “He still thinks he’s the king. Isn’t that sad?”
The door slammed shut with a loud bang and the real King Candy could hear the faint sound of dying footsteps as the two visitors left the fungeon. Shifting his position a little, he finally felt how painful his body was. Everything ached. If only he could regenerate, or maybe get a reset.
But there was hope. She was still out there, roaming free. If she had managed to stay out of Turbo’s hands for fifteen years, surely she could escape this time too. This façade cannot go on forever. Someone had to find out that he was here. Someone had to be a hero and save this game.
And save his daughter.
Clenching his fists in his cuffs, King Candy finally let his tears go. They ran over his cheeks and one fell to the floor.
[Vanellope… Please be safe!]