Reiko stood at the sill of the door for what felt like an extremely long, excruciating minute. Black and red filled her vision. A few feet in front of her, next to one of the bodies, Palmer whispered something under his breath and covered his mouth with one hand, horror and disgust mirrored in his eyes.
Cynthia said nothing. She took a few more steps into the warehouse, the soles of her boots making a wet, sticky sound as they stepped over the pools of blood. Her shoulders were tightened like iron bars and, though Reiko couldn't see her face, she perfectly imagined the expression pasted onto it, and shivered.
Finally, once her brain registered the horrifying scene before her, she took another step forward. The smell hit her like a punch to the face. As cold as the outside of the warehouse had been, the inside was hot with the stench of blood and unmoving bodies, like a noxious cloud was slowly drifting from the corpses upward, enveloping the entirety of the room.
It took every speck of will in her not to hunch over and let out what little she'd had for dinner that night. She was suddenly very glad that Percy had chosen to stay back, along with Argenta.
"Wh–what happened here?"
Palmer was the first to speak, his voice lacking all the energy it usually carried. Reiko had never seen the man so out of it. Every muscle in his body seemed tightened, as though he were trying to keep himself from exiting the warehouse as soon as possible, and the look on his face was one of painful, excruciating familiarity.
In any other circumstance, Reiko would have enjoyed that look on his face, would have considered it a little piece of karma. Now, however, she couldn't help but feel bad for him.
Cynthia gave the room one last look over, then finally spoke.
"Something isn't right."
The inanity of her statement would have normally caused Reiko to let out a 'Yeah, no shit', but at the moment she was finding it hard to speak. Or open her mouth, really. She feared she might start vomiting the moment she did so.
"These corpses are fresh," said Cynthia after a few more seconds. "Rigor mortis has not set in yet. More importantly, it seems no one outside saw or heard these murders take place; otherwise the police would have arrived already."
Reiko stared in a mix of anger and disbelief, forcibly trying to swallow the knot in her throat. How could she react so calmly? Even if the tone of her voice was one of barely contained disgust, how could she…?
She closed her eyes and inhaled. Short, quick breaths. The smell was the worst part, but she could block it off. Worst situations than this had been thrown at her before; she could do this. Cynthia was expecting an answer and Palmer didn't look like he'd offer one anytime soon if the distant look on his eyes was any indication.
"How… how could this happen?" she finally said, voice thin. "How could… someone kill all these people without anyone around noticing? Did they use a Pokemon or something?"
The schlick-schlack of Cynthia's steps echoed off the walls as she stepped over one of the corpses, eyes narrowed. She leaned forward slightly, focusing on a specific part of the floor.
"This was just one person."
Both of her partners opened their eyes wide as she said that, similar looks on their faces.
"W-what did you say?" asked Palmer, sounding like someone had hit him in the stomach. "How…"
"That's impossible," Reiko countered immediately. "There's… there's twelve people here! No one could–"
"Thirteen." Cynthia interrupted her. "I see another corpse past that door."
"Whatever! There's no way one person killed thirteen people on their own, much less without alerting anyone else!"
Cynthia nodded to herself, craning her neck as she looked all around as though she were trying to unearth information from beneath the floor itself. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly.
"There are no signs of a Pokemon attack, however…" She looked down at the nearest corpse; that of a young girl, no older than eighteen. "Each victim has only one wound; a single stab or slice at either their stomach, chest or throat. Judging from the depth and general appearance of said wounds, I estimate the weapon to be some sort of thick, curved blade. Like…"
Reiko gasped.
"S-Scyther."
Cynthia lifted her chin slightly, turning toward Reiko. "What?"
"These wounds," she said, incredulous. "They're from a Scyther's blade."
"Are you sure?"
That was the very question Reiko didn't want to be asked. In truth; she wasn't. And if that meant that she needed to make sure then…
She gulped, kneeling in front of the nearest body so slowly and cautiously that one would think that she feared it standing up and attacking her. Every hair in her body stood on end as she held her breath. Even then, the stench found its way inside her and began to swirl inside her head, making her dizzy, or so she imagined. She closed her eyes one last time before forcing herself to examine the wound on her chest.
A minuscule sense of relief entered her chest like a breath of fresh air as she realized that the girl's death had probably been instant. Not much of a silver lining. Kind of like being glad that only one of your bones was broken after falling from a roof, but she'd take what she could get. Despite the darkness of the blood covering most of the cloth around her wound, Reiko noticed the shape of the stab instantly.
"Yeah, I'm sure."
She stood up as though propelled back by a spring, eyes stinging. Cynthia stared. Palmer did nothing but stare down, gaze lost.
"This doesn't make sense," said Reiko, shaking her head. "Scyther wouldn't do this. Even if…"
"They would refuse, even if their trainer ordered them to kill." Cynthia finished her sentence, nodding. "They have too much pride as a species to be used like tools for slaughter. Additionally, I do not see a single Scyther footstep anywhere. It is highly unlikely that one of them could have killed all these people without ever touching the ground."
Reiko shook her head strongly, closing her fingers around her other arm. "S-Scyther can't fly well in closed spaces like this. But…" She opened her mouth, closed it then opened it again, frowning. "It… it doesn't make sense. These are Scyther wounds, I'm sure of it."
Her shaking voice didn't do much to sell her statement, though judging by Cynthia's expression she didn't seem to doubt her. The woman started nibbling on her index finger, one foot tapping the ground. Unintelligible mutters left her mouth as she moved her gaze all around, as though she were trying to find something invisible amidst the darkness of the room.
Finally she slipped a hand into her coat and took out an Ultraball, her forehead crinkling in a way that seemed to say 'Well, if there's no other choice…'
"I have a hunch about what might have happened," she said. "Though I'll need to check to be sure. Palmer…"
The man shivered violently, as though her words had been dragged like ice down his back.
"You're going to use Spiritomb?" he asked.
"Yes. I believe it's my best chance to be sure about what happened here," she answered. "If you don't think you're…"
Palmer shook his head and clutched at his chest with one hand. The few wrinkles on his face looked so much more prominent than before. Without prompting he headed for the door behind them with desperate steps, mumbling just before exiting the building.
"N-no, I can't. I'm sorry I… I'll wait for you two outside. I'm sorry."
Reiko stared at the door for a few seconds after Palmer disappeared through it, shocked by what she'd seen. That hadn't been just empathy. It hadn't been entirely anger or disgust either. It was something she had deeply familiarized with ever since dealing that fatal strike to that young Galactic grunt, the night they had met Cynthia. It was guilt and, worse yet, recognition. They had shone dimly through every line of his face like poison spewing from his insides, overflowing all around him until he couldn't take it anymore.
Whatever it was that Palmer had seen in these corpses, it had momentarily broken him. Something Reiko hadn't thought possible. A man like him feeling such guilt… it was ridiculous! How could he act the way he did all the time, then? All those patient smiles and all that energetic kindness… a man who truly felt the weight of the atrocities he'd committed couldn't brush them off so easily, could he?
Maybe… he can't, she thought, gritting her teeth. If this is all it took to make him react that way, then…
No. If there was a time and place for these thoughts, it wasn't now. Steeling herself, Reiko turned toward the inside of the warehouse once more and approached Cynthia, doing her best to ignore the horrible stench.
"What's a Spiritomb?" she asked. "What are you going to do?"
Cynthia stared down at the Ultraball as she spun it on her hand. "Tell me, how accustomed are you to ghost Pokemon?"
The question caught her off guard. "I… trained for a month in Lavender Tower. They don't affect me."
"…I sincerely hope you are right."
Reiko tilted her head in confusion. What did she mean by that? Curious she leaned forward as the light of the Ultraball flooded the room, leaving behind a small, cylindrical shape on the floor. It looked like some sort of stone totem, the rudimentary carvings on the front forming something akin to a caricaturesque face.
The stone didn't move, nor did it react in any way to being summoned. And yet, Reiko felt her chest tighten. A subtle shiver ran down her back, indicating the presence of… something else, right there in the room with her. She'd been around ghosts for long enough to realize when one was close, even if hidden. But… this was different. The feeling was too strong; that particular part of her mind was screaming, ringing the panic alarm at full blast to the point that she was too anxious to even move.
"You can come out," said Cynthia, her voice deadly serious. "And once you do, I implore you to behave."
The carvings glowed, and a dense purple smoke began to pour out. Reiko was almost relieved when she saw the real Pokemon come out, its appearance mundanely ghost-like. A swirling spiral of purple gas with glowing green eyes and mouth? Nothing revolutionary as far as specters went. She had seen a million scarier things in the confines of Lavender Tower.
And yet, the tightness in her chest worsened. Reiko moved a hand toward her shoulder, only to remember a moment after that she didn't have her bokken anymore; it had broken during her fight with Nico. Wait… why was she reaching for her weapon anyway? What the hell was wrong with her?
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
The Pokemon –or at least the smoke part of it– moved its spiral head slightly, focusing on Reiko first and then Cynthia. The moment it's one, swirling eye focused on her, she felt herself gag. A terrible sense of… of wrongness stabbed at the inside of her skin like tiny needless, as if the Pokemon's goofy appearance hid a vast, viscous sea of miasma and death under it.
Feeling like a Nidoran cornered by a vicious Spearow, Reiko couldn't help but ask the first question that came to mind.
"What… is that?"
Cynthia lifted a palm, and the smoke of the Pokemon's body curled around it gently, though never actually touching her.
"I believe our current situation has sickened you enough already; I would rather not disturb you any further with an explanation of my friend's… existence," she said, putting emphasis in the last word. "Their circumstances are unique, so to speak, and it has taken me a good number of years to bond with them to the point of being able to ask for their help during combat and… other situations, such as this one."
Reiko blinked, confused. "What's it supposed to do?"
Wet, sticky steps resounded through the room as Cynthia approached the corpse closest to the middle, that of a young man with a shadow of a beard. He lay on his stomach, eyes open and lifeless.
"When people die they release a small amount of ectoplasmic energy; a wisp or shade of sorts. It is this same energy that forms the body of ghost Pokemon, as well as what some of them consume in order to grow bigger and reproduce." She gestured toward the Pokemon, whose gaseous body began floating toward her slowly. "Spiritomb is very skilled at absorbing that energy and… translating it, so to speak. With some luck they will help me determine not only the circumstances of these people's deaths, but the identity of the perpetrator as well."
Then, as she said that, the purple smoke that formed Spiritomb's body curled around her like a mantle of weightless clothing, covering her completely. The creature's face moved through it, materializing in front of hers. To say it was kind of weird would have been putting it lightly; normal Cynthia was already intimidating enough, but a ghostly, purple Cynthia with the face of that thing instead of hers… Reiko had to grab her arm strongly to stop it from shaking.
"Try not to freak out, all right?" A smile could be heard in her voice, even if her face was unseen. "Spiritomb… pull me in."
Reiko didn't know what she expected. For Cynthia to start speaking in tongues or simply look around and tell her what had happened, maybe even do some weird ghost tricks in the process. What she didn't expect, however, was for the woman to let out a blood-curling scream of pain out of goddamn nowhere, her strong posture shattering as she leaned forward and placed both hands over her stomach, knees buckling.
"H-hey! Cynthia!" Reiko cried out, eyes wide. "What the hell's…!?"
Still clawing at her stomach, her entire body shaking in pain, Cynthia threw an arm back toward Reiko in a gesture that seemed to say 'Don't come near me'.
"I'm… I'm fine." She growled that last word, her voice shaking so badly it was barely understandable. "Don't w-worry about me. I saw… I saw only a flash. The gleam of the… blade. I need to t-try again."
"Try what!?" asked Reiko, raising both arms to the side. "What the hell was that scream?"
Cynthia didn't answer. With trembling steps she walked over the man's corpse and approached the one at his left, that of a young man with brightly dyed hair. A few seconds passed in silence as she breathed, preparing herself.
"…Again, Spiritomb."
This time she didn't scream, though not for lack of effort. A choked gasp left her lips as she grasped at her throat with both hands, shoulders squaring up and legs wobbling under the suddenly too heavy weight of her body. A part of Reiko yelled at her to… do something. To rush toward her and help in some way, but she couldn't; she felt like she was in a bizarre nightmare.
Then, once she looked down at the corpse once more, realization dawned on her. Last time, Cynthia had let out a horrible scream and clawed at her stomach desperately as she stood in front of the man with his own belly slit open. And now she grabbed her throat, sounding like she was unable to breathe while in front of a boy with a bleeding neck…
"It… it was a person." Cynthia finally spoke, her voice sounding hoarse and raspy. "A girl. She was dressed like one of these grunts b-but I didn't… see the weapon. And her eyes were… covered." She took another deep breath, clutching her chest with one hand. "I'll try again."
"H-hey, wait!" Reiko stammered, raising a hand toward her. "Are you going through…"
"Their last moments of life? Yes." There was no hint of her usual cheeriness in her voice as she replied. "Spiritomb… is converting that wisp of ectoplasmic energy into physical sensations. I can… see and hear and feel the last thing… these kids have."
Reiko had no words. What even… just how out of her mind was this woman? Who could ever think of doing something so… so incredibly masochistic?
"That's… that's insane."
Cynthia finally hoisted herself to her full height. She walked toward a third corpse, the one closest to Reiko, belonging to the youngest girl in the room, her eyes wide open and staring into nothing.
"There's no pain I'm not willing to endure in order to do my job." She looked down, and breathed in. "Again, Spiritomb."
She barely reacted this time, her body somewhat used to the sudden torture it had been submitted to. Reiko heard a gasp, followed by the woman taking a step back. One hand against her chest, she stood still for what felt like an entire minute, the wisps of purple smoke around her spiraling upwards like fire.
When she spoke again, Reiko barely heard her. Exhaustion and pain clung to her voice, turning it heavy and scattered.
"I… I see. It's just as I thought, then," she said. "That w-would be all, Spiritomb. Thank you."
The creature retreated into its stone, though not before letting out a sound halfway between nails against a chalkboard and a hundred different giggles all mashed together. With a flick of her wrist, Cynthia returned them to their Pokeball. Reiko would never admit it out loud, but she was more than relieved to see it disappear.
There were a few seconds of awkward silence, until Cynthia let out a tired laugh, pinching her eyebrows with two fingers.
"I must say, that's not something you can get used to easily."
Reiko didn't laugh.
"What'd you see?"
"A woman with dark red eyes and a Scyther's arm mutated into her shoulder."
Normally, hearing a sentence like that would have either made Reiko laugh or tilt her head in confusion, ready to punch whoever had been stupid or high enough to say it. It was unfortunate, then, that she knew exactly whom Cynthia was referring to.
"You mean Mars?"
Cynthia seemed impressed, or as much as she could be with such exhaustion clinging to her expression.
"Yes, that was my first thought. During the Veilstone incident we captured the woman calling herself Mars, though she escaped out of custody soon after, during Team Galactic's attack on Stark prison." She took a moment to breathe, clearly still winded out. "She… showed a surprising ability to morph parts of her body into that of some Pokemon. Additionally, she remains the only Galactic member not to lose her memories immediately after being captured by the Association, something they still can't make sense of."
That's as much as she could say. With a few steps that resonated as though her body were made of lead, Cynthia walked to the nearest wall and leaned against it, letting her shoulders fall. The paleness of her skin didn't look so vibrant anymore, but more like she was actually sick. Blood and dust and grime stuck to most of her clothing and the palm of one of her hands, making the woman look as though she had just killed someone.
Reiko looked to the side, not knowing what to do. Or what to think, either. None of this made sense; why would Mars come and kill a bunch of her own people right after escaping prison? And why the specific group that they had been after? It all seemed so… arbitrary, so random so…
Her gaze fell on the young girl and a shiver shook her body. Her lifeless eyes seemed to stare straight through Reiko.
So… unfair.
She turned to Cynthia. "What do we do now?"
"We got as much information as we could already," she replied. "Moreover, we are not even supposed to be here. I will contact Lucian as soon as we leave and inform him of the situation; he and his team will be better suited to investigate this crime than us." With some effort she hoisted herself off the wall, facing the door that led outside. "We'll head back now. I… believe all of us deserve some rest after what we've seen here tonight."
Rest… that word buzzed around Reiko's head like an annoying fly, sparking a sense of loss in her stomach that she couldn't quite identify. It sounded ridiculous. What rest could there be from something like this? How could she expect her to go back to their hideout and sleep as though nothing had happened tonight?
How glad she was indeed, that Percy hadn't come. He didn't deserve to see this.
Her gaze caught the outline of the young girl's body again, though she dared not stare at it past the edge of her vision. Mew, she wished the girl had died with her eyes closed. An insensitive thought, yes, but she didn't care. She was ready to get out of this place as soon as humanly possible.
There was a sense of relief as she turned around and headed for the door. Relief which, as she should have expected, shattered the moment Cynthia spoke, her voice filling the room like a cloudy sky just before a storm.
"You know…"
Reiko froze. There was an edge to her voice; something she hadn't heard ever since their heated argument last night. Bitterness was hard to identify, maybe she was just imagining, but she could have sworn that there was a hint of it there. Reiko took a deep breath, and braced herself.
"…that girl behind you; her expression is not much different than that of the young grunt you struck that night."
The wooden sound of steps echoed off the walls, along with a gust-like sound as the blood-soaked tail of Cynthia's coat trailed behind her. She walked past Reiko like a ghost, delivering one final strike before disappearing past the sill of the door:
"Do you still believe these kids deserve the fate they got?"
----------------------------------------
Asta spied on the Champion and her entourage from afar, her feet dangling back and forth in the air as she sat on the thick branch of a large oak tree.
Sabrina, her Gardevoir, stood upside down on the same branch, arms crossed and eyes sparking with psychic energy. Not much. Simply enough to enhance her own vision and send images of what she was seeing to her trainer's mind, barely a hat trick in comparison to everything else she could do. Still, sometimes it was nice to take it easy. Additionally –and this was the most important part where Asta was concerned– neither of them were fucking stupid. Using high amounts of psychic energy whist so close to someone as perceptive as Cynthia would certainly betray their location.
Such was her explanation to Cyrus, the man listening from the other side of the tiny microphone taped to her cheek.
"I see…" There was no hint of irritation or… anything else in his voice. "You have displayed good judgment so far, Asta, so I will trust your instincts. If you say further approach is impossible then keep observing from your current location."
Asta blinked a couple times in surprise. The man was odd as all get out, she couldn't deny that, but it was almost… refreshing how direct and open he was during their –extremely short– talks and mission reports. It was an interesting mix. A simple glance at his face, a single second of listening to his voice, and she immediately knew that her life meant absolutely nothing to him. And yet he respected her. He listened to everything she had to say and admitted when he was ignorant or mistaken in his assumptions, thanking her for correcting him.
A small feeling of appreciation sparked in her. So what if the man was as cold as the Sinnohan winter and was incapable of feeling emotion? He was still the best boss she'd ever had.
Concentrate. Sabrina's sudden words exploded into her mind, delicate yet forceful. Job. Cold man expects more report.
A splitting headache hit her for a moment, but it vanished soon after. As skilled as her partner was, not even she could fully bridge the communicational gap between species; only a true psychic would be able to cleanly communicate with their partner through telekinesis, something that Asta was not. Still, the fact that they'd gotten so far despite that was still a sign of the strength of their bond.
She cleared her throat before speaking again.
"Should I follow them?" she asked. "Or should I keep tailing Mars?"
"It's possible that Mars has noticed you following her, reason which she chose to make such a bloody statement against our Solaceon branch." Cyrus sounded more like he was speaking to himself than to her, but she listened anyway. "Then again that woman has always been unpredictable to a fault, but I cannot think of another reason why she would specifically target this group of grunts after we left them there as bait for the Champion and her group to run into. I can only assume that she meant to foil our plans."
Not what Asta wanted to hear. She had pulled more than a few strings to finally be given the mission to track down Mars, and after Saturn excused himself from his work for a few days she finally believed she had found her chance. Still, disobeying Cyrus would not bring her any closer to her goal.
And so I must carry on, she thought, breathing in.
"Then I assume you wish for me to follow the Champion and keep an eye on her?"
"No."
A low stammer left her lips, surprise and confusion freezing her for a few seconds. Under the branch, Sabrina wiggled the tips of her ears for a moment, sensing her trainer's reaction.
"…Why not?"
"Because retrieving Rotom from that Kantan girl will be impossible as long as Cynthia is with her." Cyrus' tone was slow and sharp, like an icicle being dragged across the ground. "Furthermore, it may be time for me to follow my associate's advice. Securing our pieces on the board is more important at the moment than spying on someone whose final objective is already known to us."
Asta didn't reply, instead choosing to crinkle her nose in irritation.
That… doesn't really tell me much.
"What should I do, then?" she asked. "If my squadron or me can be of use to you…"
"Part of your squadron has already been sent to the White Pillar Path leading to Snowpoint," he interrupted her. "I need them to do something for me there. As for you, there is yet something that we need to recover. I trust you have not forgotten."
Asta nodded to herself. "You mean… those papers?"
"Indeed. Ursa was been seen heading to Canalave a few hours ago. Follow her." The command was as dispassionate and straightforward as a butcher's blade. "Retrieve Willow's research and make sure Ursa doesn't disclose any delicate information about us. Understand?"
It was hard, but she managed to contain the sigh of disappointment she wanted to let out. Just what she needed. To go on a hunting mission for just a pile of fucking papers.
Not like I have much choice…
Wisps of psychic essence began to rise from Sabrina's skin, the Gardevoir sensing her trainer's order to teleport before she even formulated the thought herself. Asta simply exchanged a glance with her, and smiled.
It was okay. As long as she was with her partner, no mission would be boring enough.
"I understand perfectly, sir."