Whispers in the Dark「Pokemon Fanfiction」

Tᴡᴇɴᴛʏ﹣Tᴡᴏ • Rᴇᴛᴜʀɴ Jᴏᴜʀɴᴇʏ

Chapter Twenty-Two: Return Journey

"So the brat won a contest."

The Meowstic had felt the pure, utter elation from the depths of the subject's mind, amber eyes glowing as she ran her powers through the strings of incoherent thoughts coming from Celeana's head.

It was quite childish—it was just one contest, after all. Others had won far more, their ribbon count amounting to far greater numbers in the tens and twenties. Yes, she supposed there was some reason to be happy—it was the first thing that her pet had accomplished by herself, after all, and there was the matter of her Kirlia's reunion with her old friend.

Old friend...She turned her head, a scoff making a puff of white mist fog up the cold air in front of her. What a joke. This event would never have happened if Master's vision for the world was set in place. They might feel happy now—but what about the sadness? How can this brief glimpse of satisfaction ever erase the pain they were dealt?

She spun on her heel, chiding herself with a giggle. I'm rambling again, she scolded, I really should get rid of that old habit of mine—it wastes precious time, and I'm sure Master wouldn't appreciate it either.

Clapping her hands together, a gurgle churned at the back of her throat—one that made no attempt at even appearing sweet in nature; no, this was a pure declination into the realm of madness that she lived in.

A frown ran across her face—exaggerated, of course, she was always one for dramatics. It never got tiring, and was one of the few things that helped her pass the time. Unlike most other psychopaths, she'd had her victims for years—it got repetitive trying to push answers out of them after a while.

She glanced at the children behind her, trembling and cowering like they were expecting the worst—and they were right. THe worst was about to come to them. It was just a matter of time—she just wasn't bothered to dole out any form of torture at the moment.

"Not now," she yawned. "I'm not in the mood for it—besides, I have something to attend to. Consider yourselves lucky—stay here, though. I mean...not like you could escape anyway, but I have to state the obvious for plebeians like you."

A laugh rose. Whimpers were scattered around the room—yet another confirmation that she was the one in control. Confusion clouded the air in a mist of hazy confusion. It was delicious.

The children made haste to scamper away, not understanding a word of what she'd said—they were mostly uneducated, after all—but they could comprehend her intent. Stay away, for one, was a clear message, and they pressed their little backs against the swirling walls of the make-believe room.

"Honestly, Master..." she shook her head. "Asthansia has already been decided as the subject of your plan, yet you tell me to keep these annoying kids...what is with this scheme of yours? How are they going to fit in with all of this?

It wasn't her place to ask so many questions, however—and a dry chortle sounded once again, ruby irises wide and wild and causing the panicking humans to back away even further.

She let them be—their frenzied states would be calmed down in time—it never failed. There had been the exception of Celeana, but it was meant to happen—according to her Master, he'd expected that someone like her would come along. No, he didn't expect—he wanted someone like that.

You are rambling to yourself again, she sighed, and with a listless expression on her face, she stretched a clawed foot, gliding to the corner with little effort and leaning against the firm surface of what she assumed to be a wall. In all honesty, she didn't know—everything in this realm had the same galaxy look, and all surfaces and corners had long merged together—in her eyes, at least—into a timeless, infinite world.