Whispers in the Dark「Pokemon Fanfiction」

Tʜɪʀᴛʏ﹣Tᴡᴏ • Yᴏᴜ Wᴇʀᴇ A Mɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇ

Chapter Thirty-Two: You Were A Mistake

"Quinn?" The silver-haired boy tried to call for the small girl yet another time, his initial disappointment fading to a look of numb acknowledgement as there was no reaction. "It's no use," he sighed. "It's not going to work."

Next to him, Celeana cast her gaze downwards, worried for their friend—it had been hours since she'd gone missing, and she was just nine. At least, she looked that age—Quinn had always been the quietest out of the three of them, and she'd never told her much about herself.

"It's late," she muttered. As much as she wanted to continue looking, she had to admit that it wasn't the best option right now—they were tired and getting nowhere, and the police were a better option. "I hate to say this, but looking for an Officer Jenny would be wiser."

Her friend lowered his head in defeat, raking a hand through his tresses in an unconscious act of stress. "You're right," he mumbled. "I was just panicking—sorry about that. I think I'm getting dumb or something."

"You were chosen by that company for a reason," she deadpanned in reply, unamused at his forced attempt at a joke. "Wasn't it because of your intelligence?"

She slapped her hand over her mouth as she realised the sensitivity of the topic—she'd j sort of fixed that problem a few days ago, and even then she knew that he needed more time to get over it—but she was relieved when the younger boy recovered from his earlier flinch, shooting a small smile at her to try and assure the girl that he was fine.

"You press him too much," the Meowstic sneered, any trace of earlier warmth or false pity—had there been any in the first place?—now dissipated. "See? He still has to put on an act around you—he's still wary. This is what happens when you screw up at the worst times."

The blue-tressed female scowled, trying her best to lower her voice so that she didn't sound like an insane person who talked to herself. "I know that was a mistake," she whispered, "and I regret it. But we all make mistakes sometimes, and it leads to u—unfavourable outcomes."

A sigh reverberated in the hollow cavity of her mind, the figure signalling that she was done with the topic and wanted to move on. "Whatever," the Pokemon hissed back. "I am not speaking to you over such a trivial matter."

"I really am sorry for this; don't get me wrong." Her voice held a surprising amount of sincerity as she spoke, but that wasn't what Celeana was paying attention to—she was fixated on the suffocating feeling crawling over her thoughts, stifling them and muting them to a blurred numbness where all her notions had been merged together into one big, blank space.

"Lording over you like this while preaching about sameness..." At this, the coordinator could almost feel a harried sigh escaping the voice's mouth—"I know it goes against the very principal of what I'm trying to say. Still, I can justify my actions—and I'm not sorry for what I'm going to do next."

Before she could even ask what the creature was talking about, Meowstic had fallen silent, and it was like a cage-like structure of murkiness had trapped her brain—she couldn't think; she couldn't sense anything around her.

Her vision dimmed, but the fog in her mind was too dense and too dark for her to even notice that fact—her world had launched itself on a slow but sure path to a pitch-black zero.

"If a few must be hurt for the sake of Master's wish, then so be it," the Pokemon hissed in a fit of anger, watching as she saw the girl's spirit dimming to an acceptable brightness as she fell into the familiar state of sleep—the Meowstic, after all, was used to this sin.