~~~ Ch. 35 - Internal Schism ~~~

Do souls really exist? In one sense, we're not sure. We've yet to see any compelling evidence in favor of the existence of souls. Practically, the medical and academic fields operate as if they do not exist. In fact, we do know that ghosts do not possess in order to "consume souls"; as to why possession happens, and how it happens, however?

Sadly, the extant data is minimal. The various stories have individuals, post-exorcism, with frequent waking dreams, unable to tell reality from their own imagination. Due to the cultural relevance of ghosts and the myths around ghosts, in the next article, we only rely on what's been reported from reputable sources, though we will have a section evaluating myths and local stories.

~~~

I walk up to the entrance of the tunnel, my shoes splashing in the puddles of bits of water that were streaming in. Lanky was out cold, even in the tunnel's yellow lights. He'd biked for more than twelve hours, and he'd only just learned to bike a couple days ago. As I approached the entrance we'd entered, I was reminded of a previous life—of deciding I'd get a bike and use it to get fit. I had saved up for a year for the bike, and spent a lot of money on it, only for the bike to sit in its box in the living room, eventually moving to a basement closet when my housemates had gotten annoyed. My abdomen clenched as my mind replayed the panic when the box had disappeared.

Are you going to abandon and forget about Lanky, Leaf, or the others too? Then cry when you find out they got tired of waiting for you?

No, I whispered back to the voice, my shoes sloshing as I walked.

Maybe they'll get tired of you and put you in Bill's PC and forget about you.

No. Animals aren't bikes. I looked back at Lanky, who continued their slumber. One of the girls who was holding a swadly, her head was following me. Away from the people who'd gathered in the center of the tunnel, out of the running water and splashing puddles, I was too far away to see the trainer's face or catch her scent.

My left forelimb sticking through the center of the spinner, I pulled up my right arm, giving it a good spin, then adjusted the clasp of my helmet. This was a cold tropical storm, rain was coming down quite hard, the rhythmic noise at the edge acted as a buffer between the front of the tunnel and the rest of the world, absorbing echoes of the semi-melodic thrumming of the drops of rain. I took a glance around, at Lanky as he lay down, Leaf annoyed at the leash, puttered back and forth, tied to our exhausted trainer's wrist.

Just get in the pokeball next time. Leaf was in there, what, twelve hours? And his consolation is what? To be leashed for however long Burgh sleeps?

My insides went cold.

Burgh? I question the voice. You're not my inner-voice at all, are you? You're not even instinct! You're a piggy-backer! How long have you been there?

The voice had gone silent. I shivered. No. I took my first step out into the rain, the cascading sheets drilling and causing my leaf-helmet to vibrate. My overcoat protected me from the worst of the rain.

As I walked out into the rain, in my search for Oust. My search for purpose. I was back in a greenhouse. Rain pelted my dress as I walked, a pair of bikes, led lights blinking as they rolled past, splashing. I was in the greenhouse, the nursery of plants, the air smelled sweet, Lanky was ringing up a customer holding a pot of sunflora. Oust wasn't there. I needed to find him, I needed to. Stepping off the muddy, dirt road, my purple shoes sloshed as I put my feet down.

Leaf was there, in the greenhouse. He'd gotten into a bag of fertilizer, making a mess as he munched. The other grass types had seen him chowing down, and were lining up to compete for their early lunch. I bopped him in the head, annoyed at making the mess that he did. I was in the woods, the rain washing most of the scent. Through the trees and thick foliage, I trudged, step by agonizing step as the other half of my mind was back in dreams.

The customer walked out with their new sunflora pet? Plant? Lanky had come over, dressed in a white apron, covered in greens and soils, gently pushing us out of the way, a broom and pan appeared in his hands. The Petillil had all left their potters, more than one spilling their soil all over the floor. Daffodils and roses, a bulbasaur helping to pick up—NO! That's wrong! That's not it! I stumbled out from under a tree into the rain, the thrumming, the pitter-pattering of the rainfall, a flash of light from behind me, the water in my shoes, I stumbled. I tried to pull it off, but it was still cinched too tight.

I got up, stumbling into a tree, setting down the spinner toy. I pulled my right legs up first, contorting my right foot to my mouth, clamping down on the two pieces of velcro, pulling the velcro off. I was back in the city again, dancing in front of the camera, showing off my new shoes. There was so much hope, so much warmth.

Things were getting better! They can and are getting better! And I can still be me!

Peeling apart the velcro on both shoes, I set the shoes down, under the tree. I'd dropped the spinny-toy in the back.

You're not me! You're not Oust! I shouted, clicking, rubbing my blades together as I stood back up, running deeper into the woods. Oust! Where are you! I cried. The night was black, only the occasional glimpses of fading light of the tunnel, and the occasional flash of light told me where I'd been heading. I ran out into the forest, dropping the spinner, arms clutching my head, tripping over trunks of massive trees that towered over me, little green pokemon stumbling out of my way as I ran, deeper into the forest, plagued by visions I'd never be able to have.

Why can't you just be happy? Why can't you just enjoy what you have? Look at those dreams—I lurched, climbing, tripping, falling to my face out into the rain, eating mud and dirt, the pounding rain hitting my leaf-helmet. No. It's okay to want better. Just because you don't know a way there doesn't mean anything.

Lanky and I, from not so many weeks ago, sitting in the professor's back yard, his trees missing a good third of their leaves, from our day in the past, a flash of green from inside the professor's home. The house, the back porch, the grass, lanky, everything, including my smell and taste of the coastal air. It all wobbled again, stuttered. A flash.

Are you ready to die again? Stupid girl. Stupid bug.

The celebi, glowing, their eyes dripping black, they smiled. My mouth filled with saliva. The day was sunny. I was behind the gym, my wings resting, holding my heat inside. Resting on my fuzzy red abdomen, I was shivering. I was tired, my fuzz had slight sheens of gold to them. The lines of gold, their form, reminiscent of a nightmare forgotten. I continued to shiver, even as my trainer held me in their lap, petting my fur. Sundresser and her team had their water, as they often did before we fought. I would fight, and I would win. But I also wanted to sleep.

I shivered, standing up. Looking down, my shoes were gone. The spinner toy was gone too. I continued my aimless march into the forest. Running from the sprite, I was not following any light. But traversing into the darkest patches I could, following a familiar taste of distortion, my mouth drooling of its own accord, another part of my vision diverted by my unwelcome internal guest, the volcarona's fur turning flaky gold, Sundresser in the background, vocalizing alarm to Alder, my trainer. That image faded, and I was back in front of Lanky and Sundresser, who were crawling to me, rubbing my leaves, flakes of orange dust in the air, coming off.

My body and leaves soaked, the water rolling over my hydrophobic eyes, I'd grown quite numb to the pounding rain, quite numb to the cold of the air, not quite as numb as my abdomen was cold. I tripped again, rolling to the ground.

This time, the world did warp, and I continued stumbling, falling into a stream of water, drops of rain obscuring my visor, the icy water on my abdomen splashing, ending the nightmare of the volcarona.

"Cebi said you wanted to be special," another voice said, giggling. "It looks like you picked up a passenger along the way. So I guess that's pretty special!"

I scrambled up, knocked fully back to reality, warped though my vision was, and ran, even harder into the woods, my head scraping against low branches, stepping on and kicking some leaves of unfortunately grass types soaking up the rain in the storm.

"Lebi's here! I do say that you've caused me some problems, you know. That girl was supposed to be locked."

Dead. You wanted me to kill her.

"Not directly! And it's not death! It's called being locked."

I continued stumbling my way forward, further into the forest, running through trees and branches, coming to, and running through a small clearing, skipping over a running stream, my legs sloshing on the wet forest floor.

You and Cebi are liars.

"Maybe we are~" Lebi said, "Don't think it matters a whole lot~" the sprite said, the world around me turning grey, momentum carrying me into the walls of her boxes of time.

What was I looking for, again? I thought to myself, as much to my unwelcome guest, as I stood up again.

"Hello? Is anyone home? You're literally stuck in time. I-I c-could l-l-literally kill you and r-rewind i—" I backed up as she began to stutter, the way she did when she was either lying or speaking in half-truths. Forward, pressing on the edges of the gray box, I brought my arms up, leaning against it, pushing.

You're not ready to die, are you, little one? I asked myself—the visions I'd been stuck in had ceased and not returned, though my passenger was hungry.

No, you're not.

"You know, that voice in your head?" Lebi asked as I applied more and more pressure against the edge of the box, pushing on it. I wasn't the strongest pokemon, but I could taste the vestiges of distortion in the air, colliding with reality. My abdomen had begun to vibrate, and the box was too.

"It's a ghost, you know. They hitched a ride when you were running around the mountain. I know how to get rid of it. I can teach you if you do me a favor."

The part of the ground not frozen in time, was pushed back as the ends of my legs dug in. I held my arms out, pushing on the translucent gray filters.

"Most ghosts aren't as smart as you, you know. They get in your head. They take your own thoughts, ones you don't think, the ones I can't read. They bring them up, back into the top of your mind, plucking your thoughts like a meloetta plucks a harp. Unlike meloetta, they don't know what they're saying. They don't know what you're actually thinking." Lebi said, floating in circles around me from outside my prison.

"And as they pluck your thoughts, they find the ones that make you dream. Other people's nightmares, other people's dreams, your own nightmares, your own hopes and thoughts for the future, it doesn't matter if it's sad or happy. And boy, is that stuff tasty for them. You're lucky it's just a weak little baby ghost. You can tell because you're still in control of your body. A little older and once they've eaten all your dreams, your imagination is gone. Next time, you'll need a little more evil in you."

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

The wall shudders, my abdomen vibrating. A stirring below me pressures in the air. The wall shudders, and disappears. The world goes from gray to black, the rains continue to fall again, and I stumble forward, seeking deeper into the forest, running as fast as I can. Seconds later, the world turns gray, and I've run into the wall, falling down once more.

"Nice job, that's actually… Pretty good." Lebi says, flying into the confines of my stopped box of time, a looming shadow of pure black forming in the greater forest in front of us, frozen and tinted gray. The distortion in the world around me froze too.

Lebi pays them no mind.

"Look, honey. I know we got off to a bad start and all, but I can keep doing this all day, hehe, I mean, I can do this for longer than you'll be alive. Now, here's the deal— I fix the mess that I started, I remove your little baby ghost 'friend'. And you—" Lebi says, flying into my face, pushing me back before I can do the same against this box on the wall.

I needed—I needed to get away from here. I needed this stupid forest sprite out of my life. I need— "—you do me one teensy-tiny favor." The Celebi shoved her face into mine again, turning her head directly into my left eye. Drool fell to the ground. In my other eye, the reality beyond our gray box, in the time-frozen world beyond, a shimmer in reality appeared, but was not moving. Another shimmer.

"Hello! There's one way out of here! I need you to do me one more favor, then I'll never ever ever talk to you again, think about it for just a moment! When they eat everything they can from you, humans won't be able to fix you! And good luck finding anyone who can! I just need you to do me a favor." Lebi said.

Tentacruel games. They knew what they had been playing at. What I'd wanted. Life had to have meaning, right? Else, what was the point? As a human, I'd died in a hospital bed. I woke up as a pokemon, what, three? Months ago by this point? I'd lost track, but it didn't feel super long. And what was death for me then? I'd already made it through one death before.

"I-I can h-help you u-understand h-humans again! It's s-simple! A-All y-you n-need t-to d-do is: Finish. T-The. J-Job." Lebi said, her green face and dark eyes practically dripping.

It wasn't a conscious thought. Not one from me, anyway. One moment, the sprite was in my face, hugging my head, her eyes cloudy and dark, asserting her position of power over me, showing that they could read my mind, that they knew my fears. The next, she was in two, her body parts floating slowly apart, held in a kind of stasis the same spot she was floating in. The gray went dark again, her magic ceasing, the rain pouring down, a black ooze from one half, a pink ooze in the other.

Yeah, I guess I do want to be important. Just not that kind of important.

My body spasmed, my arms moved of their own accord, trying, and failing to lift the dripping, black goo of dark, my mouth opens, body falling to the ground, the passenger attempting to gorge themselves on the corpse of the dead fae. I push back, with my arms, rolling away. The thought of consuming another being that had once been living was repulsive to both myself and my instinct. Together, we rebelled and struggled against our unwelcome guest, writhing on the forest floor in our struggle, even as the tears in reality opened around us, distortion spilling out.

As we roll, our vision turns purple, a small specter, not a foot tall separated from us, filling our vision. The taste and smell of distortion, fading, the small, effeminate pokemon, with short, yet wispy locks of hair highlighted in red had separated my mind. The small misdreavus floated out from our head immediately picking up the remains of the celebi, slurping up the black goop oozing from the Lebi, the now-dead celebi's body.

The pokemon began to contort. The gray having fully faded, time resuming to normal around us, the black shadow coalesced, a long point then proceeding to stick out, the top of their head turning into long white hair, their upper body a masculine black, and red, the midsection of the shadow widened, and before us stood the god of nightmares themselves.

The misdreavus' arms lengthened, their hair turning conical like a witch's hat, their arms growing longer, before us, a mismagius floated, already beginning their chant. They turned to evaluate us, then back to Darkrai themselves. The portals of distortion rippled, then faded, before another hole was opened, finally tearing through. The black and pink latias we'd left behind emerged, all of us getting soaked in the rain.

"Ahem," Darkrai made to speak. I held up my arms, and shrugged. The only way we would be talking is if Darkrai himself took me to their nightmare realm, but the tension in my abdomen said that instinct didn't care for that idea too much. My recent experiences told me it would still be a one-way affair.

Oust, still in sewaddle form, held in the latias' arms, the yellow and green of the fake sewaddle, even in this rain and dark, was an excellent contrast.

Yeah. They didn't NEED ME at all.

Darkrai looks down at the bisected Lebi, then at the newly-evolved mismagius. Then to me. I still didn't understand language at all, and it looked like he was able to speak, but…

What was I supposed to say, anyway? I ask. The black and pink Latias could at least read my mind. Maybe they could bridge the communication gap?

The Lat shook their head. I clicked, annoyed.

Thanks for the attempted rescue? I say, amused. Did they think they could beat a Celebi? I had managed to surprise Cebi that one time, at least, so it wasn't completely out of the question, I suppose. I looked back down at the Lebi, miniscule drops of pink in the air boiling off into the air and the world around them. Seeing the Celebi dead, the Darkrai's white cloud of hair had shifted from calm to standing straight up, to deflated, their posture loosening considerably.

Looking back up to the newly-evolved mismagius, her hat and arms like tassels, highlighted by pink at the ends. She was floating, keeping her distance, drifting towards the distortion portal that was open, and leaking her(?) second(?) favorite food.

Darkrai, pointing at the portal Oust had opened, spoke a single word. One that I could guess the meaning of.

"Go."

My ex-headmate, the misdreavus, who'd, by pure instinct? Assisted from a psychic bid by Lebi to make me agree? Who'd save me from Lebi. She did not understand the term. Or rather, they made no change in their motion, just staring at Darkrai as they drifted towards the leaking distortion. But it was too slow. Darkrai's arm snapped, extending like pure black shadow, their arm lengthening, grabbing the misdreavus, shoving them into Oust's portal. A moment later, it closed.

With no ceremony whatsoever, the corrupted Latias, holding the sewaddle-form god in their arms, disappeared. Darkrai turned to me, giving me a… thumbs-up? As their body collapsed back into itself, fading into a shadow form, dispersing beyond my sight?

If anyone could threaten Oust, it would probably be the strongest Dark type I knew in existence save for maybe an unbound hoopa. Once again, among the many times that night I had already done so, I fell to the ground, sensations of water of the pounding rain settling back in, my abdomen numb. This leavanny was once again alone in more ways than one. With the three deities gone, it was all well and good. Except for one part—the one where I was in the middle of a forest in the middle of the night.

Heh. Guess I'm important enough that Darkrai themselves will show up in person. I mused to myself. A bit late, though. I couldn't help but be grateful they'd taken the misdreavus. Being alone with myself and my instincts was bad enough. I shivered at the thought of them possessing me again. Animals who learn where easy food is, will return to the source. I shuddered. For the best that they didn't get too comfy in my brain.

Thank you! I thought, to no one in particular, even as my eyes were stuck in the mud and grass. The moon wasn't out, so I didn't expect any responses from Cresselia. But it was probably for the best, anyway.

A clicking noise sounded nearby me, chirping, like the sound of my nest-mates. A pokemon was poking at my legs, pushing on them. I rolled to my right, clocking the pokemon with the end of my leg, knocking them over, they squealed, falling over. I sat up, observing the swadly, picking themselves up. They were covered in mud and leaves. I picked them up. Up close, I could see. They had a real problem: their leaf-blanket was half as long as it should have been. I picked the bug up, pulling them close.

Are Leavanny that rare? My whole body shivered—How many sewaddle and swadloon had no one to care for them or teach them to craft? I set the tunnel-mate on my head as we walked back, roughly the direction we came, occasionally picking up a leaf, sewing it, and attaching it to their coat. It was a paste-on patch job, and wouldn't look good. But a swadloon without a full blanket was just wrong. Each time I snapped one down, their faces didn't change, but their scent did.

Together, on our way back, the swadly and I danced about in the rain, twirling my leathery leaf-dress. In the dark of the pouring rain, no moon, no sky, no stars, I could barely see the trees a few feet in front of me. Though we could, through the rain, hear a faint shout from, and flashlights of humans through the woods, glistening in the dropping rain. Hopping along, crawling through large carved trunks, walking through dripping grass-type pokemon soaking up the summer rain, I was warm and my body felt light, even with the swadly in my arms. I tore off the now-tattered leaf-sash. I'll make another if Oust comes back.

Glimpses of the light from the tunnel we'd left behind became more and more frequent through the trees, lighting our way back, as we silently passed some people I hadn't recognized visually, shouting into the rain behind us. Walking up to the tunnel's entrance, entering the dim, yellow light, stepping out of the sheets of rain, the shouts were drowned out, and Lanky was still sleeping, though Leaf, who himself looked at me, with the swadly in my arms. I looked down. My legs, outfit, and whole body were covered in mud.

I set the swadly down on the ground. Her trainers were nowhere to be seen. I clicked, tapping her on the head, then picked her up, setting her next to Leaf. Lanky's eyes opened a brief second at Leaf's renewed movements at the new company.

I'd left my shoes and the spinner in the forest, and nearly lost the spinner during my travels! I didn't want to wear those muddy and soaking shoes, so I'd taken them off. Much more composed, I walked back out into the rain, retracing my original steps to try and find the tree I'd left the spinner and shoes at. It didn't take long, though by the time I did, my thorax had retracted slightly, evidenced by the leaf armor covering the chest-area chafing a lot less frequently. The tropical storm was moving on.

Returning back to the tunnel, spinner-toy and purple shoes in tow, Leaf and the swadloon were play-wrestling, the swadly's trainer nowhere to be seen. I had used the walk back in the midnight storm as an opportunity to wash the mud off the shoes, setting them out by Lanky's backpack, on a piece of rock, trying to let them dry. I put the spinner-toy on the ground, out of Leaf's reach. He needed to be monitored, regardless of how much he verbally complained about being bored.

Passing shouting humans with flashlights, I ventured back out into the forest. An hour or two later, of wandering in the rain, no thoughts, head empty, just enjoying exploring the woods, the yelling humans were now either out of range or had given up on their futile shouting in the rain. I'd already recovered the spinner and shoes. I did feel bad for Leaf, being in the pokeball all day long. And I had no way of telling how far our destination would be. Another two, three days of this. I was scared of being in the pokeball too long. It still was a nightmare for me. To lose your life to a pokeball? I shivered. So I resolved. I'd give Leaf a chance to not be in a pokeball all day. To see what it was like, dumb though he was.

Returning to happier thoughts, and doing my own little dance, running around in the rain, from my own little world, was a blonde-haired girl, hunched over on the ground, herself covered in mud, making choking noises. Had she followed me out in the rain?

The mud and the rain had made it impossible to gauge how she truly felt, but a human hunched over probably meant they were lost. I held out my arm to the girl as I drew close. Her eyes were closed. "Eeeaaa," I said. She opened her eyes, jumping. I held out my arm, proffering it to her. The mud on her face streaked as drops fell from her eyes.

After she'd recovered from the startle, she reached out her own hand, her thin jacket crinkling in the air as it reached out from under the dripping tree. I tugged, and she stood up. She was not nearly as tall as Lanky, nor did she have as much mass: pulling her back to the tunnel was pretty easy, and was only a foot taller than me. Through the lighter, though-still-pouring rain, I led her back to the tunnel we had camped out in.

Once we arrived, the girl continued her choking sounds, her face red, her partner squealed, nearly bowling the lost girl over in an embrace, reunited just inside the tunnel barely outside the reducing sheets of water, their feet splashing in puddles as they danced around. Together, they walked back to the drier portions. I looked over at Lanky, and he was still asleep, despite the commotion.

Which was fine by me. I wasn't about to tell anyone the story.

I'm a fucking bug, I clicked, smug at my machinations. I didn't owe explanations to anyone. The swadloon, playing with Leaf, chirped, drawing their trainers' attention, who squealed, then picked their pokemon up, spinning them in the air, pulling them close in a hug. I clicked in distaste.

What were Lanky or any of the others going to do? Force me to learn their language, then ask me what happened? I'm happy as an average, run-of-the-mill bug, doting on swadlies neglected by bad trainers, rescuing said bad trainers, and helping protect my fellow leavanny from choking hazards, having internal schisms.

You know, totally normal leavanny bugstuff.