Hanging Shadow Glitch

I really like Mario games, and I still do to this day. I have so much love for everything in the games, but the Mario game I enjoyed the most was ‘Luigi’s Mansion.’ That game freaked me out at times, but it was very enjoyable to play, and it’s really cool to hear about it now after first seeing it.

I had most of the Mario games, and sometimes I would emulate the games on occasion; why did I do that? Well, I didn’t really own Luigi’s Mansion and such, nor did I own a GameCube. That’s why I had to emulate them to play the games; however, there are some glitches in Luigi’s Mansion, but it was alright. I mean, it’s from 2001, so of course there are going to be some flaws about it, but there’s a certain glitch that makes people terrified.

I was one of those people who experienced it.

There’s a part in the game where the blackout occurred, and the people who made it this far will know what I’m talking about. Right after that moment, you enter a room with three telephones; this is known as the ‘telephone room.’ You hear one of the phones ring, but why would it ring when the power went out? The thing is, this is a Mario game, and it’s not realistic, so don’t expect things to match our reality. You, the player, also known as Luigi, pick up the phone, and it turns out there’s a fellow toad on the line.

The lightning strikes, and you see Luigi’s shadow. It’s off the ground, and it looks like he’s hanging from a noose. Something about the shadow looked very off, and it didn’t look like Luigi at all. Some people thought this was a piece of the beta of the game, since the beta was planned to be much scarier than the final game. Some people also thought the ‘hanging shadow’ was related to that so-called ‘game over’ with the creepy-looking Luigi with eyes that had no pupils; he probably had pupils, but they were very hard to make out.

There was a shadow casting around his eyes; he also looked very strange, and he was staring at the viewer with no emotion at all.

The Luigi on that screen did not resemble the usual green plumber we knew and loved. I experienced sleepless nights and nightmares when I first saw that eerie picture of Luigi. In one nightmare, I found myself in the same telephone room within the dark mansion, hearing footsteps approaching the entrance where I had first entered the room. Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing Luigi from the unsettling image.

The figure rushed toward me, and then I woke up abruptly. I continued to have recurring nightmares featuring that shadow glitch and the unsettling image of Luigi staring into the void. In another nightmare, my shadow hung from a noose in the same telephone room, accompanied by an eerie jingle playing in the background. Upon waking, I resolved to uncover the truth behind this phenomenon. Eventually, I learned about the glitch and was relieved to discover it had been rectified in the Nintendo 3DS remake. You should check it out for yourself; the glitch is gone.

As I matured, the nightmares ceased, and I could sleep soundly, reassured that nothing could harm me. I’m concluding my account here, but I still ponder: why did Nintendo create the clip, and what was the significance of the unsettling jingle? These questions continue to puzzle me, and I seek answers to unravel this mystery.

All of my questions have been answered; let me explain.

I snuck into a nearby Nintendo headquarters, which was abandoned, and I found scrapped pieces of the hanging shadow glitch. Turns out, it was never meant to be a glitch; there was originally going to be a feature where if Luigi got attacked by a ghost and lost all of his health, he would have the power to roam the mansion as a ghost.

When you think about it, it actually seems like a really fun feature to play around with, but when Luigi gets a call from Professor E. Gadd, Luigi’s shadow appears during every minute of the call, and Luigi’s shadow is completely off the ground, and for an alternative scene, that dreaded clip of Luigi is standing in front of the viewer, with those soulless eyes; the last time Nintendo ever used the clip was when they were showcasing Luigi’s Mansion to the crowd.

This is why some people consider Luigi’s Mansion to be the scariest Mario game. I agree; when I play the game, I also have that unsettling feeling that I’m being watched every time I play the game, and I also have every disturbing visual of the game in my head every time I go to sleep; I think about that picture when I go to sleep.

Anyway, I decided to compile the pieces and create all of the unused content together, and I went on the computer and coded the original Luigi’s Mansion by adding all of the missing code pieces. I don’t want to leave this building until I check out the whole thing.

I pressed start and went through a bunch of cutscenes; luckily, I added a feature that allows me to skip the cutscenes. In the first part of the game, where Luigi gets his Poltergust from Professor E. Gadd, right off the bat, I noticed a few changes.

The assets from the beta were added back. I pulled up the GameBoy Horror, and it showed the Luigi nesting doll, which looked really cute, and I noticed the timer as seen in the trailer. I went upstairs, and I went to the corridor on my left, and I entered the first room of the mansion, Neville’s room, better known as the study.

I captured Neville, and I went to the next room. Of course, I avoided the fake door; I’d been playing Luigi’s Mansion for a while, so I entered the same room, known as the master bedroom, where you see Lydia; her room was different, and the gameplay was like how it was in the trailer. I captured her, and it was still the same game until I heard the cry from Chauncey, which was louder than usual.

This was my chance to see if my coding worked.

Chauncey’s room was named “baby room.” That’s what it meant in Japanese when Luigi walked in; normally, it would be called the nursery, but since this is based on the beta, things were different, of course, and nothing strange had yet happened.

Chauncey woke up and looked at Luigi.

Chauncey said an unsettling line about asking Luigi if he wanted to play, but it wasn’t really surprising, since isn’t the majority of this game creepy enough? Luigi then agreed, and the ball was launched at the baby. Chauncey got angry at Luigi, and he brought him to the boss’s room—a giant crib. I tried making Luigi attack Chauncey three times, since, you know, that’s how you defeat a boss in any Mario game.

I defeated Chauncey.

I was sent back to my room, and I got a call from Professor E. Gadd. While we were talking, lightning struck, and Luigi’s shadow was seen behind him, striking the same pose as he was, and Professor E. Gadd asked if I wanted to come back to the lab; my options were yes or no; this wasn’t in the actual game.

Because I was curious, I chose “no”; the screen froze for a second, the Gameboy Horror turned off, and shadows began to cast over Luigi’s eyes. Staring directly at me, he resembled the character from the clip.

A brief cutscene started to play. Luigi put his GameBoy Horror aside and began to exit Chauncey’s room until he reached the fake door. I regained control of my character, but Luigi retained his bleak, soulless expression. Was I forced to kill Luigi? I had no idea; perhaps I was being compelled to make him commit suicide, but I chose not to use the fake door. Instead, I wanted to continue exploring this version of the mansion, so I left the corridor and returned to the main room. The game took control again, and Luigi explored the mansion by himself.

All of the ghosts were gone.

He made his way to the telephone room; we had discussed this room in the first post, and I had numerous nightmares about it in the past. I wanted to put the mystery to rest.

However, instead of a phone in the middle, there was a noose. I took control of Luigi again, and I walked him toward the noose to interact with it. Following that was a disturbing cutscene in which Luigi interacted with the noose while still appearing sad. He staggered to a stool, which he pulled over to him, stood on the stool, and then put the noose around his neck.

It was over; Luigi started choking when he kicked the stool, and the last cutscene showed Luigi dangling around the room, fading into darkness. As the final Luigi cutscene played, his spirit left the mansion, still looking forlorn.

He looked at me.

I destroyed the game and fled the building, never to return.

Nintendo doesn’t mean “Leave luck to heaven,” it truly means “Leave luck to hell.”