“I’m sorry this was all I could find.”
Fred exclaimed while scratching his curly red hair apologetically.
This was all you could find… are you kidding me?
In front of me were three big nylon bags the size of my torso filled to the brim with articles of clothing.
“Take whatever you want.” The young nurse turned to give me an affectionate smile.
Well I can’t exactly decline now, can I…
It took me some time to rummage through the contents, but as I did, my face slowly became washed over with horror.
Skirts, frilly blouses, ribbons, skirts with ribbons and frills, and finally a one-piece dress… wait for it… filled with more frills.
Who in their right mind makes clothes this frilly? I bet only a crazy, frill-obsessed, perverted maniac would ever-
“Do you like them!? I made them myself by the way!”
It was the fucking ginger kid.
“Ah.. uhm…” I muttered some sounds of approval and tried to return the smile without seeming rude. “I.. umm.. I’d like to try some of these on if you don’t mind.”
“Of course!”
It was the happiest I’ve seen him as he practically skipped out of the room.
After the room cleared out, I took off the wrapped bath towel that served as temporary coverage and found myself a pair of shorts and a hoodie one size too big.
At least I found something in here that didn’t make me look like a kid attending a beauty pageant. Now… I just need some underwear that doesn't look semi-permeable, laced up with frills, or downright impossible to wear.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Thus I began frantically searching for anything that looked even remotely normal. Tossing and throwing aside clothes that even a princess would have found oversweet when I finally discovered my one true love.
Hidden at the very bottom of the stash was a pair of panties and bra that were blue and white striped, soft to the touch, and most importantly: as plain as unflavored yogurt.
My holy savior.
By then I heard murmurs outside my door and a few quick knocks followed.
Without giving me any time to react, Dr. Elliot, accompanied by a suspicious man clad in a black trench coat proceeded to enter. I could also make out nurse Fred in the back, hysterically waving at the doctor as if to tell him something but it was too late already.
“This here is Investigator Blain and he’s here to ask you-” Dr. Elliot’s words trailed off just as abruptly as they began.
The entourage of one doctor, nurse and investigator froze at the scene of a naked young girl basking under the afternoon glow, holding up a pair of striped panties as if she was praying.
————————————————————————————————
“Ahem… please pardon my rudeness from earlier.” Dr. Elliot apologized with composure befitting of his stature, but the incident has clearly shaken him up somewhat as beads of sweat formed under his brow. “I’ll leave you two to it, then.”
The suspicious looking investigator gave the retreating doctor a slight nod before turning his attention towards me. I was still fidgeting awkwardly across from him, feeling waves of heat washing over my no doubt beet-red face. I gave a little peek to the strange man and that was when I finally saw his unobstructed face for the first time.
He looked to be a man in his early 40s. Sharp chin, a nose that bridges all the way between his glaring eyes, and messy stubbles all across the lower part of his face. His most prominent feature will still have to be the fine incision starting from the top of his eyelid all the way down towards his lips. The scar looks too clean to be done by humans.
A pokemon perhaps?
The possible-war-veteran flipped through what I presumed to be my examination papers, pausing here and there while looking up momentarily as if to confirm something. After what felt like decades of uncomfortable silence he finally spoke, marking each word with much clarity.
“It says here you don’t remember your own name or family situation.”
“Yes, that is correct.” I gulped at the sheer intensity of his voice.
“What do you say, partner?”
I was confused by his next set of words. Then I realized that they weren’t directed at me, instead, they were directed at the ball of pink and brown making its way down the interrogation table. The thing was slightly larger than a tennis ball, and it stumbled across on its stubby legs which produced an audible squeak with each step it made. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t just a plushie turned alive, but a Pokemon. And not just any Pokemon, it was a Cleffa, something I never imagined a hard-boiled investigator would own.
I chuckled a little to myself. Mr. Scarface here owns a Cleffa nicknamed Partner. I wonder if it cuddles him to sleep every night?
“Kle..Klee..fa!!” With a mighty yelp the adorable little thing emitted a weak pulse of some sort, which hit me all the way up to the crevices of my brain. The feeling was akin to having someone poking a dandelion up my eardrum, pushing all the way inwards until its seeds finally scattered inside my brain.
Holy fuck it’s in my head.
“My partner here knows the move, Detect, which allows for a temporary peek of the target’s mind.” The detective must’ve saw the panic in my eyes and decided he owed me an explanation, “It can not read any of your memories directly…but it can definitely pick out a lie, and just then, you definitely lied.”
Oh fuck I take it back this Pokemon is fucking terrifying.