Chapter 74 - The Afterparty

“I don’t think she’s okay… What should we do, Delia?”

Celeste gently lowered Lori onto the bed, attempting to offer her a cup of water. Lori jerked away, spilling it everywhere. Her features blurred, her feet swollen since Pat had washed them. Celeste tried speaking to her again, but Lori’s eyes struggled to focus, her head lolling to one side as she muttered incoherently, “It’s not bad fooorm!”

“D-Delia?” Celeste called again, but Delia was lost in her own world. She plopped onto her own bed, staring at her hand while repeating, “Obsidian Boulevard 8... Obsidian Boulevard 8.” It was Gio’s address, and as it turned out, not far from the centre—just another one of the mansions that dotted the road that led to the beach. Honestly, if Celeste had been smarter, she would have convinced Gio to give them a ride instead of dragging Lori’s Mammoswine all over town.

Lori’s delirious mumbling continued, her words jumbled with mentions of battles with Bruno and Lapras. “Delia, I’m serious. I don’t know how to take care of her,” Celeste tried again.

Delia barely glanced up from her hand. “Don’t let her lie on her back. If she throws up, she might choke.”

Lori was… facedown in the pillow, at least. Still, Celeste couldn’t ignore the risk. “Lori...?” she whispered, touching her friend’s back gently.

“I don’t need yer help.” Lori shook her hand away. “You’ll see. I’m gonna... I’m gonna beat you in the... the finals, Bruno.”

Well… at least she wasn’t calling her Fractal anymore.

“Why don’t you sit up for a bit, eh?” Celeste tried pulling her friend up, struggling with Lori’s limp weight. Eyeing a rubbish bin in the corner, she debated between dragging it to the bed or taking Lori to the bathroom. The latter seemed like a cleaner, better long-term plan.

With considerable effort, Celeste looped Lori’s arms around her shoulders and managed to half-drag, half-carry her to the bathroom, plopping her down without much gentleness.

If it wasn’t clear by now, Celeste had no idea what she was doing.

“Is there any medicine for drunkenness?” she called out to Delia, who was too busy daydreaming to respond. Frustrated, Celeste pressed on. “I should at least get something for her feet, right?” Again, no response.

Celeste’s eyes moved to her Pokémon. Aria had been useless all night, so she turned to Pat and Powder, both curled on her bed. As much as she loved Pat, he would take forever to understand the situation. Powder, on the other hand…

“How’d you like to be in charge?” she asked the Vulpix, who tilted her head cutely. Pat lifted his head too, giving her those slow blinks of his. With a deep breath, Celeste picked Powder up and placed her by Lori near the toilet.

The Slowpoke, ever the sweetest, plodded along behind them.

Celeste pointed to Lori, whose head was slumped against the side of the toilet. “Spray ice on her face whenever you think she needs it. And make sure she doesn’t fall back and hit her head, okay? If something bad happens, bother Delia until she comes here to check. I’ll be back soon.”

Powder tilted her head again, letting her tails sway without much coordination.

It… It was going to be fine… right?

—*——*—

The door clicked shut behind Celeste, and she took a few steps away before leaning against the wall and sliding down onto the carpeted floor.

What the hell was she supposed to do?

She shut her eyes tightly. There was too much happening. Taking deep breaths, she bit back tears. The light above her flickered, and she noticed the glow from her phone’s screen as it tumbled from her pocket.

“Reminder: Take the Collars to Cinnabar Labs. Olga’s counting on you!”

Celeste picked it up. She’d set the alert a few days ago to avoid getting distracted. Well, she didn’t forget. This island, though? It didn’t want anything to be done. Ever.

Almost in automatic, she then scrolled through her text messages. All still unread. Eventually, she clicked on Diantha’s contact. They hadn’t texted much. Mostly, she told Anthy she’d finally got a phone, to which her friend replied, “I’m glad you left the Stone Age, darling.”

“Taking care of a drunk friend. What do I get her?” Celeste typed. Like the others, this message also went undelivered.

She let her arms fall limp at her sides and rested her head against the wall. The lights flickered again, casting shadows with unholy shapes on the wallpaper. Celeste’s breath hitched as she became acutely aware of every dark corner around her. No voices came from behind the closed doors, but a draft somewhere sounded like wailing.

Maybe it was the dread of the night or the restlessness of her heart, but Celeste imagined eyes watching her from the darkness—bulging eyes like the wriggly, dark creatures at the party, or the deep yellow holes in her own shadow.

She stood up fast.

It… it was fine.

The creatures—whatever they were—probably stayed back at the party. And her shadow... she wasn’t going to think about it. Because, really, what was there to think about?

She forced her legs to move and her mind to remember she was in a Pokémon Centre. There was no place safer.

Monsters wouldn’t dare come in here.

All she needed was more water and some medicine for Lori. Nurse... Nurse Joy was going to help her.

Something creaked under her feet, startling her. She stopped, scanning around for the eyes in the darkness. Again, there was nothing. It... was all on her mind. Heck, maybe she didn’t even see anything at the party. She’d been drunk too. Maybe there was something in her drink. It was blue, for goodness’ sake.

“Yep, something in my drink,” Celeste repeated, hoping the sound of her voice would help. The wood cracked again, and she giggled. Or maybe it was better to say she squeaked nervously? She could pretend she was finding it all amusing somehow. Celeste loved horror stories, didn’t she? This was going to be a great one to spook Luan with later. “Old mansions like this are usually checked for ghosts,” she tried reassuring herself. “No way they wouldn’t check a Pokémon Centre.”

Reaching the lift at the end of the corridor, an automatic light lit up above her, this one not flickering. She pressed the button and tried to calm herself. The familiar ding announcing its arrival was a welcome sound. She stepped inside, watching the doors close with a reassuring thud.

Celeste let out the breath she’d been holding. “I’m not afraid of ghosts,” she told herself, reaching for the ground floor button. “Opal’s Mimikyu is cute, and Dad’s Yamask is protective. None of them are scary.”

The lift began moving. Up, not down. She blinked, watching the number three on the floor display turn to four. Wasn’t the Centre completely deserted?

“Old mansions... Old mansions... which ones have I been to?” Celeste’s voice turned more frantic. There was some cheery elevator music playing, and the effects the smell of detergent had on her stomach made her think she wasn’t all that well herself.

Ding. The door opened on the fourth floor. The automatic lights turned on, revealing a dark, empty corridor stretching beyond the light. Ding. The door closed again, and up the lift went.

“H-Hammerlocke,” she said out loud. “I can’t count that as one mansion, though. The whole town is castles and old mansions. Even our school was in a castle.”

The lift stopped again. Ding. The fifth floor was a copy of the fourth: dark and creepy. She looked at the panel. Maybe calling this place a mansion was wrong. It had seven floors. It was a small building with old-style architecture. That was even less scary. Mansions were creepy. Castles were haunted. Buildings… were modern and safe…

Right?

“T-there were spires and a t-tower back in school. The tower there was even higher than seven floors.” Celeste placed a hand over her chest as she watched the door close and the lift move up. She pressed the ground floor button again. “M-me and L-Lyra liked to sneak around... b-back when we were friends.”

Celeste’s voice cracked and almost faded under the music. Her fingers were now smashing the ground floor button. She looked down at her shadow, which remained unsteadily still.

The door to the sixth floor opened. “Lyra was a real bully, though.” She let out a high-pitched laugh. There was only the seventh floor left now, and then she’d go down... p-probably...

Celeste watched the door close and the dark corridor stretching ahead fade behind the metal.

Just one more floor and…

Nope.

She slid out before the doors fully closed and the lift moved on.

No, she didn’t look at the dark corridor ahead. And no, she didn’t stop to pay attention to crackling floorboards and shadows that may or may not hide round bulging eyes. She kicked the door to the stairs open and jumped—almost stumbled—down the steps.

Honestly, who even checks places for ghosts? Her coping wasn’t even good this time around. And who isn’t afraid of them?

More than once, she and Lyra had snuck around the halls and towers of the Hammerlocke Academy when Duskull and Gastly spooked her. Lyra had laughed and called Celeste a coward when she screamed.

She rammed into a wall, barely stopping herself from tumbling headfirst down the stairs. The walls seemed to close in as she descended, the dim light barely penetrating the darkness. She took a deep breath, pushing herself off each wall and continuing her hurried steps.

Lyra had been wrong, though. Celly was no coward!

Back then, Lyra had screamed much more than her when that one Haunter showed up. And who could fault them for screaming? They had been ten back then. Kids. Was she not a kid anymore? Was it still okay if she screamed?

She closed her eyes and pursed her lips as she pushed herself off another wall.

No. It wasn’t okay to scream. Not now. She didn’t want anyone to hear her.

Finally, she reached the bottom, bursting through the door into the brightly lit hallway of the main floor. The sudden brightness was almost blinding.

She panted, her breaths ragged.

Looking up, she saw only a silent staircase. Peaceful, rather than eerie. Was her mind... playing tricks on her again?

Ding.

The lift’s door opened on the side, and Nurse Joy emerged from inside, wheeling a cart. She was whistling the same tune that had been playing in the lift before she vanished into the infirmary wards.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“What’s... wrong with me?” Celeste whispered, her voice trembling.

—*——*—

The vending machine in the lobby was out of order. Celeste banged on it a few times, but the water bottle wouldn’t budge. She tried for a chocolate bar next, thinking that sugar might help Lori—or make her throw up. It didn’t come down either.

Celeste’s eyes drifted to the door of the infirmary ward. She also needed something for Lori’s feet and, well, actual help. Nurse Joy had just gone in, and who better to help than a nurse? A nurse that looked far too much like all the other Nurse Joys was still a Nurse Joy…

She closed her eyes, recalling Officer Jenny and Jude, and her conversation with Delia about perfectly drawn houses.

None of that even made sense.

Her eyes fell back on the infirmary doors, and Celeste slapped her own face. “What’s the logical explanation here?” she muttered, getting back to the same thought she’d been having the past few days. “That I’m the problem or that it’s everyone else?”

She pushed open the infirmary doors, thankful for the almost blinding brightness and absence of flickering lights that would stir the darker corners of her imagination.

Imagination.

Everything that had happened on this island… it had to be her imagination. Her stress. Her fear.

With deliberate steps, she entered the medical ward. The walls were lined with cupboards of neatly organised medical supplies, almost too pristine, too untouched. The smell of antiseptic burned in her nostrils as she passed small patient rooms, each unoccupied with beds made up in crisp, white linens.

She opened one of the doors, revealing an empty examination room. The cold, clinical atmosphere did little to soothe her. Celeste’s eyes darted around, taking in the metal instruments, the medicine, even the potted plants. Her breath turned shallow and rapid.

It was all on her mind. Just her imagination. There was literally nothing here.

As she turned to leave, a faint rustling sound made her stop in her tracks, her body tensing instinctively. She held her breath, listening intently. Hidden in the corner of the room, she noticed a smaller door, half-open, with a sliver of light shining through it.

“N-Nurse Joy?” Celeste called out, but no answer came.

The hairs on her neck stood up.

It’s all my imagination, she kept telling herself. Nurse Joy is just Nurse Joy, and there’s no such thing as wriggly creatures or ghosts in the shadows.

She moved towards the side room.

And…

She stopped just before the door, feeling a tug on her leg.

Celeste closed her eyes, swallowing hard as she tried to steady her racing heartbeat. Every time she felt that tug, something weird happened. Ghost, dark, bug. She recalled the words scribbled in her notebook. Did that mean ghosts were good or bad? She opened her eyes again and kicked back, resolutely moving forward.

It didn’t matter what ghosts were, because there was NOTHING in her shadow.

“Nurse Joy, are you there?” She pushed the door open, forcing herself to sound in control. The tugs on her leg turned more desperate. Before she even looked inside the room, she saw a pair of eyes peeking from the shadow, their urgency clear as the moonlight outside. Whatever that was, it wasn’t hiding now. Her shadow moved on its own, grabbing her leg and pointing toward the exit, almost frantically.

No. No, no, no. She wasn’t going to confuse herself. It was all her imagination, and she would die on this hill.

Celeste peeked inside the side room, seeing Nurse Joy working on something. Metallic sounds framed her movements, and Celeste noticed a tray beside her, filled with medical tools. Nurse Joy was carefully cleaning the instruments and placing them on the tray. Politeness (or fear) made Celeste stand there, waiting for the nurse to finish. Except… when she did… she began to take the tools one by one and place them back on the countertop before starting to clean them again.

Her shadow seemed pleading now. But…

…imagination…?

“Nurse Joy, I… don’t know if you heard me before,” Celeste said, trying to straighten herself up. “M-my friend drank too much alcohol and hurt her feet. I washed the wound… but do—do I give her medicine, water, food?”

The nurse didn’t answer. She just kept repeating the same mechanical movements. Celeste remembered Jude serving pizza at the party—just as robotic. Another tug on her leg. She should really listen to it and run...

Instead, Celeste blurted out a nervous laugh. “My friend Delia is just as obsessive about cleaning!” What was she even trying to accomplish here? “I’d usually ask her for help, but… she met a boy and… ugh…”

Nurse Joy grabbed a scalpel and began cleaning it. Again. The clock read three-thirty. It was a perfectly normal time for a nurse to be cleaning scalpels and whatnots... wasn’t it…? She was probably busy during the day… taking care of an empty Pokémon centre… yep. That was it.

Celeste tried to move forward, but her leg wouldn’t budge. The shadow now clung as high as her knee, though nothing really cast it. Maybe… she didn’t need to get closer to the nurse?

“N-nurse J-joy?” Celeste tried again. Her brain was too desperate for her to find excus—logic explanations. So she simply tried to pull her foot up with more force. It wouldn’t lift an inch. Her entire body was shivering. “I need help. Please!”

Was she asking the nurse or the ghost?

“P-please,” her eyes fixed on Nurse Joy. “I don’t know what to do… I’m worried about my friends. And I’m worried about… about myself. I think I… I really need help.”

The nurse finally stopped, scalpel still in her hand. She placed her cleaning cloth down and tilted her head slightly.

“You’re worried,” she said, her voice eerily calm and monotonous. “You need help.”

“Y-yes...” Celeste felt a surge of relief as she easily managed to step back. “That’s w-what I just said.”

“Yes.” The nurse didn’t move.

Suddenly, Celeste was very aware of the dry lump in her throat. “Is… everything okay?” her words cracked.

“Everything okay…” the nurse echoed. “You’re worried. You need help.”

Celeste took another step back. Was she crying or sweating? Something hot definitely trailed down her cheeks. “P-Please…”

“You’re welcome.” The nurse remained still, and Celeste’s eyes trailed down to the scalpel in Joy’s hand. “Welcome...” Nurse Joy’s head twitched. “Welcome to the Pokémon Centre, here we restore your Pokémon to full health…”

What the—? Celeste’s eyes widened, and she found herself taking several deliberate steps back. Somewhere in the darkness, she could swear she saw the bulging eyes from the party.

“So… maybe it’s not my imagination…?” Celeste eyed the way out. “I—it’s actually all good now.” She made her lips twist into a forced smile. “I… I’ll just—”

“Okay, it’s all good now.”

The nurse finally turned, and the scalpel’s spotless surface gleamed under the sterile light.

That was definitely her cue.

With a swift motion, Celeste grabbed the door to the side room, slamming it shut in Nurse Joy’s face. There was a key there, and she tried to steady her trembling hands as she locked it. She felt a bang against the door, then another. Celeste heaved as she moved away, stunned and terrified. She should’ve run at the first chance she got, but her body froze.

Until…

“Welcome to the Pokémon Centre. Here we restore your Pokémon to full health.”

The voice came from behind this time. Adrenaline spiked through her system, allowing her to turn just as the scalpel slashed through the air, missing her by mere inches. She stumbled back, falling to the floor, noting the swish of the blade had far louder than it had any right to be.

“You’re worried. You need help.” The nurse towered over Celeste. When she moved towards her, her legs bent and straightened in a rhythm that was off-putting and her arms swung rigidly at her sides. Each footfall seemed to land with the exact same force, giving her motion an artificial quality that was simply too much for Celeste to even begin processing.

So, she simply scrambled back until she hit a wooden table’s leg. The one good thing about those mechanical movements was that she could tell exactly when Joy was about to attack again. One glance at the scalpel and Celeste ducked under the table, just hearing the thud of metal hitting wood. Fast as she could, she slid to the side, grabbing the examiner’s chair and kicking it toward Joy.

The nurse didn’t even sway.

A Swift or an Ice Shard would be pretty useful right now… heck, even a Water Gun…

Back on her feet, Celeste locked eyes with the nurse, pulling the scalpel from the wood. Joy was blocking her way out. Lucky Celeste was clever.

She spun toward the room’s window, ready to jump toward freedom. It was a full moon—even though it really wasn’t supposed to be—and the night sky was a beautiful canvas of stars. Most would call it perfect. A real paradise.

Well... it’s a bit hard to picture any paradise where nurses attacked people with scalpels.

Celeste pulled the window open, but it was stuck or… “Locked.” Panic surged again, and she thought she saw the round eyes and a black shape in the window’s reflection. This one looked like a cross rather than a twig—or an X rather than an Y. She didn’t dwell on it. Instead, she gathered all her strength and punched the glass. Her fist rattled more than the window. She punched it again. And again. From the corner of her eye, she saw Nurse Joy with her scalpel back in her hands, calmly walking towards her. “Stupid window…. Come on, come on… Come on!”

The rattling glass sounded like all the reception bells and the coast guard doors she had banged over the past few days, trying to call for Jude, or even this very Nurse Joy. Did… she have to be timely now? Celeste felt her strength wane with the last bang. Her hand was throbbing, and there wasn’t even a crack in the glass.

Celeste turned, unsure where to run.

“There’s nothing to worry about.” The nurse’s monotonic speech bounced off the walls. “This is paradise.”

Celeste chuckled dryly. “Pretending you’re not worried doesn’t make it go away. Trust me, I’d know.”

She pressed herself against the wall, closing her eyes, and bracing for the worst.

And then…

Another tug on her leg.

No… not a tug. A pull.

“What the—“

Celeste shot her eyes open. Just as the scalpel came down, she was pulled into… something… somewhere… dark.

Just like what happened at the party!

Before she could fully process this, she got pulled back from the darkness and into the light—the corridor’s light. She was just outside the room now, and her shadow tugged her leg even harder.

She wasn’t going to ignore it now.

Its wide eyes looked right at her, filled with panic, and again her shadow moved in dissonance with her body, pointing to the exit.

Well, they should try to talk at some point, and she’d be sure to thank the hell out of it. Now though?

Quiet as she could, Celeste gathered her breath and darted out of the infirmary. She barely felt her legs as she climbed the stairs, because there was no way in hell she was taking the lift. She made absolutely no sound as she ran through the dark third-floor corridor and back into her room.

—*——*—

Celeste slammed the room door shut, then locked it to be sure. She grabbed a chair and wedged it under the handle. Moving the desk would take too long, and they didn’t have time. Quickly, she began throwing things into her backpack—her stuff, Delia’s, Lori’s. Pokéballs, essentials, everything.

“Help me out here!” she shouted, glancing up to see the room exactly as she had left it. Delia was still in a daze, gleefully talking about how she’d smudged the address on her hand but could still read it. “This is not the—” Celeste bit back her words. No time.

She grabbed her phone, hands trembling. Who would she call? Officer Jenny? Obviously not. Also, no fucking time.

“Aria, Powder,” she turned to the two Pokémon sleeping on the bed. “Wake up! Guard the door. If anyone comes in, attack—”

Celeste frowned. Wait… Didn’t she leave Powder to take care of Lori?

Her eyes widened.

Shit. Lori.

She grabbed both Pokémon and practically threw them in front of the door. “Swift, Bite, Ice Shard, I don’t care what you use, but nothing gets in,” she ordered, already moving toward the bathroom. Water was leaking from inside, and Celeste’s heart pounded even harder. She’d been through all that and hadn’t even managed to get her friend some water. “Lori?”

She braced for what she’d find and... then she relaxed, just a little.

Pat was holding Lori steady with… a psychic move? She was a mess—dirty and wet—but her eyes blinked slowly, and her lips wobbled into a grin. The Slowpoke looked at Celeste with big and worried eyes.

“I-It’s okay.” Celeste ran to hold her friend. Lori actually looked less sick than when she’d left. “Pat… you took care of her? Y-you splashed her with water?”

The Slowpoke just blinked at her, but she could see the answer in his eyes. She could see the concern there and she could see that despite being completely out of his depth, he was trying to help. Celeste shut her eyes. He wasn’t like everyone else…

“Pat… you… you don’t think this island is paradise, do you?” She had no time for this, but for once she waited, anyway. In her constant need to rush, she hadn’t noticed Pat was the one Pokémon actually listening to her, actually having emotions other than constant happiness.

Arceus, she was bad at this.

“Ke,” he eventually said, shaking his head. She remembered it from the day they met. You say “Po” for yes and “Ke” for no.

Celeste tried to steady her breath. “I’m… not going crazy, am I, Pat?”

Again, it took a moment. Celeste used the time to drag Lori to the shower while she waited for an answer.

“Ke…” Pat said again. When Celeste glanced at him, he was looking at Powder and Aria.

Celeste turned the shower on, making the water as cold as possible. Lori, of all people, should appreciate that.

As she watched the water fall, she curled up, trying to keep the tears at bay. If she let herself cry, she’d never stop. She’d never get her friends out of this horror house that passed for a Pokémon Centre. She’d never get them off this island…

“Pat, it’s everything... the humans, the Pokémon, they’re all like...” she glanced at her other two Pokémon. Aria and Powder were playing instead of guarding the door. “They’re all like that. Except for... Oh Arceus… Pat, Nurse Joy attacked me with a fucking scalpel. S-she aimed for the head.”

The Slowpoke’s eyes widened, and his tail swished, more alert than ever.

Celeste took a deep breath. “I’ve been... so... I… I don’t even know.” She buried her head in her knees. “What are we going to do?”

Grabbing her legs tightly, she felt a shiver run down her spine. Then, not a tug, but a nuzzle in her ankles. Pat was looking at her with his big, sweet eyes.

“Now… we rush… leave.”

She didn’t know if it was his or her voice that echoed in her mind. Either way, she stared at him. “Where the hell can we even go?”

His eyes moved down, unsure.

Then, almost like a Hail Mary, Delia entered the bathroom, pouting playfully. “I went to pet Powder and smudged it even more. I can’t read Gio’s address anymore.”

Seriously? Delia’d been staring at the address the whole night.

“Obsidian Boulevard 8,” Celeste hissed, hoping to get her friend out of the way. “Just… down that road behind… behind the centre.”

She blinked, her heart pounding as she sprang back up, startling poor Pat.

“Say… do you think your new friend would be happy if we took you to watch the sunrise at his mansion?” Celeste asked, turning off the shower and picking Lori up. Delia was already squealing with joy.

“You mean I should go today?”

Somehow, Celeste managed a smile. “Yep, we’ll all go. But you gotta help me pack. The faster you go, the faster we leave.”

Delia giggled and left the bathroom, humming about how much she loved packing. How this spell worked was beyond Celeste, but… no complaints.

Out of the Pokémon Centre and into some stranger’s house, they’d go...

“Oh, Cee, it will be great! A mansion! And Gio… I can’t wait to be around him again!” Delia kept on talking. “You won’t be a spoilsport and keep mentioning Luan, will you?”

“No need to worry.” Celeste exchanged a worried look with her Slowpoke. “It’s going to be…” her voice strained. “It’s going to be Paradise.”