Muma「A Pokémon Fanfiction 」

muma

"It appears as if from nowhere—muttering incantations, placing curses, and giving people terrifying visions."

     A breeze swept through Oak Ridge, swirling the mix of fiery leaves outside. A Sawsbuck and her Deerling nudged the ground for signs of remaining grass. The first signs of Halloween were beginning to show—children, hidden beneath elaborate costumes.

    She traced a heart in the mist from her breath against the cold window, watching as it slowly disappeared. Though her father had millions to spare, since the death of her mother, business, not charity, became his focus. Not a single piece of candy would be given out tonight, and the hoards of hopeful children would leave her house, empty-handed.

    Twisting a strand of blonde hair, she considered disobeying her father—he wouldn't notice, after all. With the death of her mother, no one cared anymore. They only saw her as the daughter of a powerful man.

     She had even prepared a costume, away from the watchful eyes of her bodyguard and father. Violet gauze, sangria linen, lilac lace—it was typical, yet special in her eyes. If only, like the witch her costume modeled, she could fly away on a broom. Blend in among the hordes of children outside. Become no one.

     A sharp knock on the door brought her out of her dreams. Hurriedly stuffing the dress away, she opened the door. Silhouetted in the shadows was the slim figure of her father, and behind him was the expansive body of her bodyguard.

     "You will be practicing violin tonight. No trick or treating, no giving out candy. Understood?"

     "Yes, Father."

     "Your bodyguard will be watching your door tonight. The world out there is dangerous, and my daughter must not be allowed out of the house."

     She stopped herself from saying that his daughter was right in front of him, and instead replied, "Yes, Father."

     Her father turned and nodded to her bodyguard, who positioned himself in front of her door before slamming it shut.

     The echoes continued to ring in her ears, even after the actual sound had long disappeared. She was trapped, with no place to run. She saw metal bars surrounding the windows, the entire house—the beautiful oak door replaced by cold steel ones, and her mother's flowers outside becoming dangerous traps for unsuspecting children.

     Her hands were shaking, but she couldn't punch the walls—fear of harm prevented her from doing so. Screaming would send her to the psychiatric hospitals—she was sure her father would want that. And she had no one. No one.

     Hugging her knees, she stared at the picture of her and her mother standing together, one Halloween night—she, a Misdreavus, her mother, a Mismaguis. A strange feeling engulfed her. She wanted to cry, yet laugh at the same time.

     So she did both. Crying, yet laughing manically at the same time, she could almost hear the cries of someone—or something—crying with her.

. . .

     The picture in front of her began to change. Soon, it was no longer the grinning image of her mother and her on Halloween. It was the grinning image of a Mismaguis and Misdreavus.

     She looked around her, bewildered. The same furniture sat in her room, with the small change in a sofa or picture here and there. But there was a pattern. The pictures were no longer of her. A Misdreavus occupied all of them, and when she looked down, that same Misdreavus slept in her bed.

     "Mom? Dad?" she called, her breath quickening with every shout.

     Silence.

     She ran down the stairs. "Mom! Dad!"

     Silence.

     She tore into the living room. "Mom! Dad!"

     Silence.

     And then she saw it, huddled behind the shadows. Shivering, whether out of fear or cold, she didn't know, was a medium-sized violet shadow. How shadows could have color, she didn't know, but it certainly wasn't solid. 

     She looked at it, and it looked at her, and emerald eyes unlike her own stared back at her. The rest of the shadow was indistinguishable with the black shadows around it, but what stood out most was a shattered red gem that lay before the shadow.

      "Mom?" she said cautiously.

     Your father... The shadow shifted nervously. He is a monster. Hide...hide...he will reduce you to nothing. 

     "Mom, you don't know what you're talking about!"

     The shadow rustled more urgently. He is coming...see what he did to me? He will do it to you...it's just a matter of time.

     She was about to protest when a swooshing sound interrupted her thoughts. She froze, unable to turn around as the swooshing grew closer and closer.

     Run! the shadow said, quivering now. He's coming...coming!

     I'm about to die, and I can't even run, she thought bitterly, frozen.

     There was a final swoosh, and the world turned black.

. . .

     "Gallade, Psycho Cut!"

     She was still frozen as her father's voice echoed through the room. A pained cry came from behind her, followed by a small thud. She still couldn't move—it was as if time had frozen.

     "Are you okay?" Thin, bony arms wrapped themselves around her.

     She didn't move, the image of her mother's formless body still frozen in her mind. If her mother was that, then the swooshing was...

     "Stay away!" she shrieked, her sclera turning from white to yellow. Her long blonde hair turned blueish-green with lilac tips, her clothes became a ruffled teal dress, and the necklace was replaced by red gems. "Misdreavus!"

     His eyes widened, as did his Gallade, and she grinned. Fear, beautiful fear. It was time that he felt that paralyzing fear. Her body glowed as she floated out of the window, cackling as the shining crescent above her illuminated the frozen body of her father, slowly fading into shadow.