[Yandere Meowscarada x Reader] I'll Make Them All Disappear!

58 | Because I Could Not Stop For Death

Meowscarada opens her eyes.

All around her — darkness. A completely blank plain of black space, stretching farther than her eyes can reach. Something like moonlight teeters on the edge of the void, but when she looks, she deems it to be not the moon, but crystal shards hanging overhead from the ceiling of a cavern.

They shine brighter than I.

She stands. Cold wind sweeps through her fur, drenching her in shivers. She hugs herself tight. It doesn't help. She wants to cast a morsel of grass magic, carve it into the shape of a scarf to keep warm. But this realm denies her attempt. The magic in her paw flutters away into oblivion, and between the traces of unnatural light, something new emerges. A tall figure donning lush green fur and milky purple eyes, a smile upon their face that is exquisitely remarkable and all the more calculating.

Though the figure walks forward and breathes fresh life, the way its body is riddled in patches of dead fur and flesh, gaps of missing skin peeking down into rotted bone — it is far from alive. Its cheeks are awfully sunken. Dead flesh clings too tight to its bones, leaving ribs vaguely exposed. It is no more than a walking corpse, born again from the jaws of death that once captivated its heart.

Meowscarada lets down her arms as she is faced with this daunting aura — another Pokémon of her species, and one she knows much better than herself.

"I've laid dormant inside you for so long," says the undead Meowscarada, lurching ever closer. "A weightless egg. A breathless husk. Forced to watch you siphon a second life from me that should have been mine to live."

"You weren't given a second life," Meowscarada says. "I was given a first."

"How can you say that with such confidence? Such drive? Do you truly believe you've been granted life?"

Meowscarada thinks of her lovely trainer, the life she's lived alongside him and everyone else — even those she despises with every fiber of her being. She nods without hesitation. "I know I have."

The undead Meowscarada tilts up her head, her knowing smile shifting into a cutting grin. She laughs and shakes her head, in disbelief at the lies oozing from her counterpart's mouth. "Is that so? Then tell me... what does it mean to truly be alive? Are you alive because you can breathe? Speak? Are you alive because emotions come to you naturally? Because your heart beats in your chest and blood flows through you?"

Meowscarada timidly places a paw on her chest and strokes the fur. Everything her counterpart is saying is striking a nerve. She won't outright admit that. Her expression remains wary, and her body only slightly adjusts into a combative stance, faced against the way the undead Pokémon is intent on circling her target.

"Or am I wrong?" the grinning Meowscarada continues after a brief pause. "Is it true that some things — although they may mock the living — can never truly live?"

She continues to circle the crystalline Meowscarada like a hawk.

"I'll tell you what I believe. I'd like to think the dead are more alive than the living will ever be. As brilliantly wrong as it sounds, here, my words ring true. If I were wrong, I wouldn't be talking to you right now, would I?"

She's not real, Meowscarada tries to reassure herself. I'm only talking to a mirrored version of her. She can't live again like I can.

"If I were wrong, you would be the one who has more life than I."

But I do. Even if I'm made of crystals, I'm alive.

"I have experienced life for all it has to offer. I have seen endless wonders, I have heard fabulous stories, I have dreamt, I have cried and prayed... and I have loved. I believe I'm truly alive because I have felt that — love. You cannot say the same."