Pokémon dream eater

[zion of arcadia]

I totally forgot I wrote this. Welp. Better late than never.

Written for the PMD Writers Union May writing prompt.

General: Write a story from the perspective of the villain.

Specific: The Hero and Partner, or the Team, are forced to camp out when a mission keeps them out later than expected.

Note: I made a fairly major edit after coming across an urban legend that was so good, and fit so well, I just HAD to add an allusion to it in. It's one of those brain blast moments where you're like, this is awesome. I need it. Sorry to anyone who may've read this before then, and also, it does put the story much more firmly in horror territory, in case that's not your thing.

...

All Pokémon—as Gengar had quickly learned—were suckers. Every single one of them.

Even Alakazam, Mr. My-IQ-Has-More-Zeros-Than-Your-Bank-Account, had fallen for his ploy hook, line, and sinker. The simple-minded townsfolk were practically eating out of Gengar's palm by the end of his speech. It helped that The Other Human just stood there, mute and dumb, sealing his own fate with silence.

Gengar had been mildly disappointed. He'd hoped for more of a fight from his supposed counterpart—an ounce of cleverness, some display beyond pure brawn. But The Other Human was just another gullible fool. Maybe humans weren't all they were cracked up to be, either, and Gengar was instead a one-of-a-kind genius.

At first, Gengar had trailed behind the search parties. He enjoyed observing the chaos he'd caused. It was funny, really. Absolutely hilarious. What a bunch of morons.

But then night had settled, and the rescue teams settled down too, uninterested in risking unnecessary danger. Boring. So Gengar had struck ahead. And judging by the amber glow flickering further down the tunnel, his decision would soon be rewarded. It was almost impressive how terrible they were at covering their tracks.

Gengar's grin widened.

Clear blue crystals glowed softly in the dark of Lapis Cave. They blossomed out the cracked quartz walls, bloomed out the shattered glass floor. There was something unnerving about the beauty, though, in its unnatural stillness, in its lack of life. The natural disasters and the mystery dungeon both had driven most inhabitants away.

Gengar's warped reflection followed him within the crystal panes, a multitude of shadows, flitting about out the corner of his eye. He didn't like reminders of his appearance. He hated his ghoulish red gaze, his ghastly white grin. So Gengar stared straight ahead and ignored the shadows. A light could be seen at the end of the tunnel.

The Other Human's lap rat, Pikachu, sat by a campfire. More dying ember than an actual flame, the campfire smoldered low; caught in the mirror house of Lapis Cave, Gengar had still picked it out with ease. Pikachu was crouched, ears pricked forward, nose twitching, staring sightlessly into the dark. Every so often, she glanced over at The Other Human.

The Other Human lay curled in a ball. His paws occasionally batted at nothing, brow furrowed, lost in a restless sleep. He looked like an ordinary meowth, as far as Gengar could tell. And yet he wasn't; they were the same.

Our insides don't match our outsides. Gengar banished the thought immediately.

Gengar hung back, lurking, considering his options. He didn't particularly want to interfere. He'd already fought them once, and the memory of the defeat still stung his pride. Gengar would rather enjoy the circus from a safe distance. Slow them down, perhaps, then double back and let the others know where they'd gone.

But that didn't mean he couldn't mess with them a little.

Gengar closed his eyes and concentrated. The cave, the crystals, the campfire, the pikachu, all dissolved away. A subtle sweet scent filled the air, vaguely familiar for some reason. He opened his eyes.

Before him stood an enormous tree. Its roots jutted out of the ground, bark knotted and gnarled, branches bare except for a single piece of fruit. The fruit was pale gold in color, speckled brown, shaped to vaguely resemble a meowth's face.

Gengar sauntered forward and plucked the fruit free. It was lighter than it looked. He inspected it for a brief moment before taking a large, irreverent bite. He munched loudly.

The fruit's rind was thick and tough, giving way to flesh wafer-thin and almost utterly flavorless. It was like biting into water, water with a salty tang akin to tears.

The dream began:

You sit in a chair shaped like a birdcage. The wicker basket wraps around you, the corduroy cushion beneath not exactly comfortable, but the novelty makes up for it. You rock back and forth, feet dangling a good inch away from the ground, staring down the hall—all the furniture is purple for unknown reasons—and watching the setting sun filter through the kitchen window.

A meowth sits at the sill, staring back at you. She's a stray that comes around every so often for food, and when storms roll through, your parents let her stay in the garage. The meowth arches her back and yawns, pink tongue stark in her dark maw. She cleans her whiskers with a meticulous dedication you can't help but admire.

The meowth pads away and you never see her again, never know what happened to her. Your cheeks are wet; you don't understand why. Now the house's walls are purple too.

The birdcage chair sways, and your small fingers clutch the wicker basket for balance. An abrupt 'kehehe' disrupts the somber quiet.

You look up. An inky purple swirl with a cheshire cat smile looks back down at you from atop the cage: it matches the furniture. You smile back through your tears. The swirl's answering smirk falters and then fades. Now it's solemn, entire body tilting until it's upside down, hovering in front of you.

You study each other. After a moment, it reaches out, dark fingers splaying across your chest. Your heart beats fast in the palm of its hand. You glance—the hand flicks up with a feather-light touch, brushing your nose.

A blink. Then you giggle; the inky blot smiles. For the first time, the smile reaches its eyes.

The dream was over.

The light turned blinding, no longer dying shades of orange and red, but vibrant greens and yellows. Gengar smelled the sweet scent again, stronger now, tinged with peppermint, and he knew her.

"Gengar?"

No.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

A deep, intense terror filled him. Claws tore at his heart, a heavy anchor threatening to drag him down, down, down. Gengar couldn't move.

"I could ask you the same thing," she said.

No answer.

He remembered when he was little: he couldn't fall asleep, afraid of the monsters in his closet. He lay huddled under blankets pulled up to his chin, gazing with wide eyes at the yawning darkness, paralyzed by an inexplicable horror.

And then one day, the closet door creaked open. But there had been no monsters, only a tiny ralts, sweet and gentle, and she had stayed by his side ever since. For the first time in a long time, he had felt safe, for the first time in a long time he had slept through the night untroubled.

"Gengar?"

No.

"Go away," he said.

The half-eaten fruit fell out of his loose grip. White maggots wriggled in the now blackened flesh; they reminded Gengar of his own smile. He picked it up, stuffing the rest of the fruit in his mouth.

The nightmare began:

The walls ooze purple.

It's late and dark. You're home alone. Your parents are gone.

You let the stray meowth sleep under your bed—

Now the tree was crumbling too, burnt charcoal, bits and pieces decaying in a series of soft, sad sighs as it withered away. The sky became overcast, sullen and grey. Nothing had changed.

—you let her lick your hand—

And yet she paid all of it no mind, stepping closer. Too close.

—the walls are oozing purple—

"Jacob?"

No!

—you let the meowth (suddenly she's a ralts, then the meowth again, then some nightmarish amalgamation of both, staring with dead eyes at the window) dangle from a noose in the garage—

He slapped her. Palm open and directly across the cheek. He heard the crack, loud and clear; watched her head snap to the side. An ugly red weal burned her pale skin, matching the color of his eyes.

—it's everywhere, you're disgusting, filthy, don't let them gawk—

She looked at him, hurt, and beneath the hurt brewed silent anger and tired disappointment. The reproach seared more painfully than any flame.

—there's words written in blood on the window:

HUMANS CAN LICK TOO

The nightmare ended.

Gengar was back in Lapis Cave. His reflections glowered at him in the many facets of the crystals dripping off the walls, and he loathed each and every one more passionately than the last.

"Who's there?!" The Other Human was awake, voice a hoarse yowl, fur bristling as he stared wildly out into the dark.

Sparks crackled off Pikachu's cheeks. She stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him, her expression defiant. Gengar hated them both with a quiet desperation.

He wanted to fight, wanted to scream, wanted to beat his breast and throw a tantrum on the cracked glass floor of Lapis Cave. But Gengar did none of those things.

Instead, he did what he did best. He turned tail and ran, ran all the way back to Pokémon Square, never once looking back.

 

[Pen]

Hi Zion! I've been enjoying reading your blitz reviews, especially the poems you've been including like cherries on a sundae. I read this one when you first posted it and really enjoyed it. It's lovely, surreal character vignette. PMD seems to often draw on themes of transformation, self-hatred, loneliness, and the need for companionship. This throws all these together into Gengar's twisted mental landscape. The overall impression I'm left with is a sense of loss, and of how needless that loss is. Maybe it was just a meowth under your bed all along.

All Pokémon—as Gengar had quickly learned—were suckers. Every single one of them.

Even Alakazam, Mr. My-IQ-has-more-zeros-than-your-bank-account, had fallen for his ploy hook, line, and sinker. The simple-minded townsfolk were practically eating out of Gengar's palm by the end of his speech. It helped that the other human just stood there, letting the accusations fly, mute and dumb, sealing his own fate with silence.

Really enjoyed the rhythm of these opening lines.

Maybe for the last line there I'd cut a clause: "It helped that the other human just stood there, mute and dumb, sealing his own fate with silence." To avoid the double verb-ing.

There was something unnerving about the beauty, though, in its unnatural stillness, in its lack of life. The natural disasters and the mystery dungeon both had driven most inhabitants away.

The overall thought comes through, but I'm not sure the pieces quite align here. Is it the beauty that's unnerving? If the cavern were full of life, the crystals would have the same beauty, but presumably not be unnerving.

He didn't like reminders of his appearance. He hated his ghoulish red gaze, his ghastly white grin.

I wonder about other aspects of his incarnation as a gengar. The experience of simply existing as a physical creature must be different too. Even if he could avoid every reflection, what does it feel like to be a ghost? Do things feel the same when he touches them?

If he refused to acknowledge the demons in the dark, they ceased to exist.

This felt a little too on-the-nose. I think this sentiment comes through clearly without needing explicit statement.

Every so often, she glanced over at the other human.

The other human lay curled in a ball. His paws occasionally batted at nothing, brow furrowed, lost in a restless sleep. As far as Gengar could tell, the other human looked like an ordinary meowth.

"The other human" is repeated quite a lot here. Maybe, "Every so often, she glanced over at the other human, who lay curled in a ball. His paws occasionally batted at nothing, brow furrowed, lost in a restless sleep. As far as Gengar could tell, he resembled an ordinary meowth."

Our insides don't match our outsides. He banished the thought immediately.

Interesting that that thought causes him trepidation--earlier it almost seemed like the reverse, that he feared his reflection because he feared that this monstrous outside does reflect his insides.

He inspected it for a brief moment before taking a large, irreverent bite. He munched loudly.

"Irreverent bite" and "munch" are great characterization details here. Really convey this feeling that Gengar is constantly performing his insouciance, even when there's no audience. There's a desperation to it.

The fruit's rind was thick and tough, giving way to flesh wafer-thin and almost utterly flavorless. It was like biting into water, water with a salty tang akin to tears.

Having the fruit that represents the PMD protagonist be flavorless surprised me--in a good way. And that it tastes like tears is suggestive.

You rock back and forth, feet dangling a good inch away from the ground, staring down the hall—all the furniture is purple for some reason—and watching the setting sun filter through the kitchen window.

A meowth sits at the sill, staring back at you. She's a stray that comes around every so often for food, and when storms roll through, your parents let her stay in the garage. The meowth arches her back and yawns, pink tongue stark in her dark maw. She cleans her whiskers with a meticulous dedication you can't help but admire.

The meowth pads away and you never see her again, never know what happened to her. Your cheeks are wet; you don't understand why. Now the house's walls are purple too.

This dream sequence flows very well. You did a nice job capturing that mixture of incredibly grounded in detail and yet completely intangible and changeable that dreams have. I like the stark pink tongue; the sense of unavoidable change, loss.

An inky purple swirl with a cheshire cat smile looks back down at you from atop the cage—it matches the furniture. You smile back through your tears. The swirl's answering smirk falters and then fades. Now it's solemn, entire body tilting until it's upside down, hovering in front of you.

You study each other. After a moment, it reaches out, long, dark fingers spread across your chest. Your heart beats fast in the palm of its hand. You glance—the hand flicks up with a feather-light touch, brushing your nose.

A blink. Then you giggle, and the inky blot smiles, and for the first time, the smile reaches its eyes.

This was a gorgeous and unexpected moment. Gengar comes to gloat, and then--innocence, for a moment. Connection. Something.

White maggots wriggled in the now blackened flesh—they reminded Gengar of his own smile.

Excellent.

The dream began:

The nightmare began:

I enjoyed the simplicity and starkness of this parallelism.

Now the tree was crumbling too, burnt charcoal, bits and pieces snapping off in a series of soft, sad sighs as it withered away. The sky became overcast, sullen and grey. Nothing had changed.

I like the visual image transitioning into an auditory one. Snap feels a little harsh set against soft, sad sighs. Maybe, "Now the tree was crumbling too, burnt charcoal, bits and pieces flaking away in a series of soft, sad sighs."

—there's words written in blood on the window:

HUMANS CAN LICK TOO

Ah, I remember this one from the article on Japanese horror stories you linked. It fits in nicely--the horror of things being not what they appear to be, the delicate barrier between friends and monsters.

Sparks crackled off Pikachu's cheeks. She stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him, her expression defiant. Gengar hated them both with a quiet desperation.

Mmm. "Quiet desperation" really works here. He hates them for being sure--sure of their own friendship, their trust. Hates them because their fruits spawn dreams, not nightmares.

Instead, he did what he did best. He turned tail and ran, ran all the way back to Pokémon Square, and didn't once look back.

Nice rhythm to this ending.

-

I wanted to include a poem. The one that came to mind is a Russian poem, По улице моей который год by Akhmadulina. Since there's no translation I particularly like, here's one stanza and my best attempt to bring out at least a little of the original.

Ну что ж, ну что ж, да не разбудит страх
вас, беззащитных, среди этой ночи.
К предательству таинственная страсть,
друзья мои, туманит ваши очи.

That’s fine, fine, just don’t let fear wake you
Wide-eyed, helpless in the night.
Treachery, my friends, your secret passion—
It clouds your sight.

 

[zion of arcadia]

Ah, thanks for sharing your thoughts! Always appreciated.

The overall thought comes through, but I'm not sure the pieces quite align here. Is it the beauty that's unnerving? If the cavern were full of life, the crystals would have the same beauty, but presumably not be unnerving.

You always manage to find the one paragraph that gave me the most trouble in my short stories, lol. I must've rewritten this segment like three or four times. I'll see what I can do to clarify it, and the other prose suggestions have been noted as well.

I wonder about other aspects of his incarnation as a gengar. The experience of simply existing as a physical creature must be different too. Even if he could avoid every reflection, what does it feel like to be a ghost? Do things feel the same when he touches them?

I considered incorporating that aspect into the oneshot somehow. But I had a hard time figuring out a way to do so cleanly. I do like writing about ghost types though, so I'll probably revisit the concept at some point.

Interesting that that thought causes him trepidation--earlier it almost seemed like the reverse, that he feared his reflection because he feared that this monstrous outside does reflect his insides.

Something I heard in a lecture once that I really liked and try to utilize when possible is the idea that well-rounded characters are often contradictory. This line captures the idea that some part of Gengar feels he's misunderstood, that his current persona doesn't match who he truly is. But not even he really believes it, which is why he shuts the thought down, although little moments like the first dream (and in the game, when he saves the MC) show he could be something more.

Having the fruit that represents the PMD protagonist be flavorless surprised me--in a good way. And that it tastes like tears is suggestive.

I try not to be too meta when it comes to certain things such as player avatars because I often find it more distracting than poignant. But it's fun to slip in small references when the narrative allows it.

This was a gorgeous and unexpected moment. Gengar comes to gloat, and then--innocence, for a moment. Connection. Something.

Even though Red Rescue team is probably the weakest game in the series in terms of writing (although personally, I enjoy the simplicity of it all), I love love love Gengar and the idea that he's a weak-willed coward with the potential for softness to shine through.

Ah, I remember this one from the article on Japanese horror stories you linked. It fits in nicely--the horror of things being not what they appear to be, the delicate barrier between friends and monsters.

I'm not usually that bothered by horror, or written horror, anyway, but I physically recoiled at the thought of a stranger licking a child's hand. Although tongues in general creep me out, and Gengar are well known for using their tongues, lmao. Something that can capture a visceral emotion like that should definitely be written about.

Mmm. "Quiet desperation" really works here. He hates them for being sure--sure of their own friendship, their trust. Hates them because their fruits spawn dreams, not nightmares.

Yeah, it shows how Gengar wished he'd stood by Gardevoir the same way Pikachu stands by the MC when things go south. I always liked the way the game paralleled their friendships.

I wanted to include a poem. The one that came to mind is a Russian poem, По улице моей который год by Akhmadulina. Since there's no translation I particularly like, here's one stanza and my best attempt to bring out at least a little of the original.

Ну что ж, ну что ж, да не разбудит страх
вас, беззащитных, среди этой ночи.
К предательству таинственная страсть,
друзья мои, туманит ваши очи.

That’s fine, fine, just don’t let fear wake you
Wide-eyed, helpless in the night.
Treachery, my friends, your secret passion—
It clouds your sight.

Ahh, it's so beautiful. I listened to the Russian version read aloud, too, although I doubt google translate really captured the intricacies of the language. Thank you!

 

[windskull]

Hey Zion. I remember reading this a while back and never reviewing it. Well, I reread it and I’m fixing that now.

First off, I love the surreal feeling of this scene. I think you capture the feeling of dreams and nightmares quite well. There were some really, almost poetic visualizations in there too. The spot that comes to mind in particular is the description of the maggot-filled fruit. The description of Lapis Cave is really good as well.

You also do a great job of characterizing gengar. Despite the limited amount of information and Characterization we get of Gengar from the games, I can look at the prose in here and go “yep, that’s Gengar alright.”

You mention that this sort of horror with the little revisions you made. And while it definitely had some creepy, visceral moments in it, it didn’t really feel like “horror” to me. Not traditional horror at least. But on the other hand, I generally don’t like horror, but I liked this. So maybe that says less about whether or not it’s horror, and more about what particular tastes of horror I can tolerate. That’s probably what it is tbh, because there was definitely a feeling of creeping dread, especially once the nightmare began.

I’m assuming that the presence that he was talking to in the middle of the fic was Gardevoir. It would make sense, what with the content of the dream. I like that his own subconscious thoughts seemed to be invading the dreamscape, particularly during the nightmare. It almost makes you wonder if the nightmare was Meowth’s or his own. And I feel like that was probably the angle you were going for there. If so, you did great with it!

Anyways, I don’t know what else to say except I had fun reading this. Good job!

 

[Nubushi]

Hello, I’m here from the Review Blitz, and fandom-blind to PMD. That didn’t stop me from enjoying this story, but there were a lot of things I didn’t get, and it’s not clear to me which of them are due to fandom-blindness and which are just me being dense. I’ll go through and point them out (not all my comments are entirely in chronological order), in hope that at least that can give you an understanding of what things are and aren’t clear to fandom-blind readers. (Personally, I find it helpful to know what does and doesn’t come across to different readers, so I hope that can be helpful to you, regardless of whether you are taking readers who aren’t familiar with PMD into consideration as a potential audience.)

First of all, I really liked the description of the cave, with the crystals, and Gengar’s reflection flashing off of them, which introduces an important theme, his self- loathing. It also gives reader a clue about the fact that Gengar used to be a human, something I didn’t notice until my second time around.

I also really loved the line about Alakazam’s IQ having more digits than a bank account number. This humorous line, and also Gengar’s gloating about how clever he is and how easily he duped everyone helped to establish his personality right away from the beginning, which I thought was great.

On the other hand, I have no idea what was going on with Gengar's speech, or how he duped anybody. (I am assuming this is because of fandom-blindness.)

I also had no idea who The Other Human was upon my first readthrough. Upon a reread, since Gengar used to be a human, I guess Gengar is using this as a designation to mean the meowth is the other pokemon who used to be a human (other than Gengar). But why they are supposed to be the supposed counterpart to Gengar is beyond me (a PMD thing I am missing due to fandom blindness? The meowth is the PMD player character, having become a pokemon, and Gengar is a villain in the game who also used to be human?)

I was also a bit confused about whether getting them to camp out was part of his plan, and why (and wasn’t sure what the objective of the plan was, either; fandom-blindness, I suppose?).

The other human's lap rat, Pikachu, sat by the campfire.

Is there a reason why only this instance of "the other human" isn't capitalized? Not sure if it is a mistake or something that went over my head.

You have a very interesting image with the meowth fruit, and great descriptions of everything from its texture and taste to the way in which Gengar bit into it. The part where it had maggots, but he stuffed the rest of it into his face anyways was really striking. I'm not sure if the fruit tree is a PMD thing, or just your own elaboration of what goes on with the Dream Eater technique? Anyways, it's certainly an image that has a lot of resonances (Adam and Eve eating the fruit of knowledge; eating as partaking, etc.), and the connection of maggots = nightmare is easy for me as a reader to follow.

A few quick nitpicks from the dream scene as a whole:

plucked the fruit free.

The word "tree" isn't really necessary, as "fruit" (or, whatever object one takes in one's hand) is usually the object of that verb.

The light turned blinding, no longer dying shades of orange and red, but vibrant greens and yellows.

This was a little puzzling because I’m not sure when the light started to be orange and red. I don’t recall those colors being mentioned it when you are talking about the tree, so maybe the light of the fire was orange and red? I just don’t recall it being mentioned specifically, so it was unclear when the light originally was those colors.

The dreams were very dream-like, with the puzzling objects/symbols and the way images and figures in the dream would change partway through. I don't normally go for lots of boldface/italics to indicate certain things, but here the boldface does actually, I think, really contribute something to the atmosphere--the urgency and heaviness of the nightmare.

Humans can lick too: the all-caps writing on the window seem very horror-genre-esque. Is this a reference to that bit of lore about "if you are licked by a haunter, you die"?

Looking back, I thought the "no monsters in the closet" thing was really clever. There was no "monster" in the sense of a scary, frightening creature, but there was a monster in the sense of a "pocket monster." So, that made me think this is a story where the "monster in the closet" trope is true, but in a very unexpected way, and that was fun.

When I first started reading the story, I was puzzled by Gengar's dislike of his form. He seems so satisfied with himself (his prankster-like ability to dupe others) that his hatred of these physical features (which seem so appropriate to his personality) seem out of place. But, by the end of the story, with it seeming that Gengar used to be Jacob (a human?), it did start to make sense.

I still don't really know what was going on with the raltz, and her finding Gengar (how? why?) and what happened with the dream ending. Did the raltz finding Gengar interrupt the dream? I also still don't know why Gengar was doing this in the first place, i.e. what his purpose was, or what the two heroes are there trying to do, what their purpose is.

However, I really liked what you did towards the end with the varying objects of hatred--Gengar hating his reflections in the cave (nice tie-in to the beginning), and hating the pikachu and meowth, as earlier he had hated himself.

I also felt there was a great connection between the title and the story as a whole--the title explains what is going on in the story (Gengar is using the move "dream eater"), which is not actually explicitly stated in the story itself. The story also came across as a more detailed fleshing-out of the "dream eater" move, and that was really enjoyable.

Overall, clearly, there was a lot that simply went over my head, but I was still able to enjoy the vividness with which you depicted the settings and characters, and the entire sequence with Gengar eating the meowth’s dreams was very striking and memorable.

 

[zion of arcadia]

Thank you for sharing your thoughts! I appreciate it. It's always cool to get perspective from fandom blind people. They point out stuff I'd never have even thought about necessarily.

I was also a bit confused about whether getting them to camp out was part of his plan, and why (and wasn’t sure what the objective of the plan was, either; fandom-blindness, I suppose?).

That would probably make more sense if you'd played the game, yeah. The MC duo (Meowth and Pikachu here) get exiled and chased out of the village by a bunch of pokemon. Gengar isn't shown to join the pursuit but I finagled canon somewhat to have him join in.

Is there a reason why only this instance of "the other human" isn't capitalized? Not sure if it is a mistake or something that went over my head.

A mistake! I'll correct it.

The word "tree" isn't really necessary, as "fruit" (or, whatever object one takes in one's hand) is usually the object of that verb.

It actually says "free". But I tend to use the default fonts, so I might look into that, since f and t do look really similar.

This was a little puzzling because I’m not sure when the light started to be orange and red. I don’t recall those colors being mentioned it when you are talking about the tree, so maybe the light of the fire was orange and red? I just don’t recall it being mentioned specifically, so it was unclear when the light originally was those colors.

Hmm, yeah I see what you mean. It's a reference to the dream sequences that have brightly colored backgrounds (and whenever Gardevoir would appear it shifted to green and gold). I'll see if I can smooth out that transition.

Humans can lick too: the all-caps writing on the window seem very horror-genre-esque. Is this a reference to that bit of lore about "if you are licked by a haunter, you die"?

It's actually a reference to the urban legend The Licked Hand. Very cool little horror story.

Thanks for taking time out of your day to look this over.

 

[Flaze]

I gave this a shot because I was really interested in seeing what a story from you would be like considering the review I got for lago. Call it returning the favor if you want.

Anyways, I went into this as someone that hasn't actively played the games and...I think this is about the gengar from the games (?) so I was a little bit lost, but I still liked it nevertheless.

Thankfully, @Pen gave me a good overall idea on who Gengar was in the game and how this story comes into it so I can get into a bit more detail on it.

First of all, I'm a sucker for dealing with trauma and regret and this story is right up my alley when it comes to it. You quickly gives us our introduction to Gengar and then let us get into his headspace, showing us how his attempt at seeming like he's in control and is smarter than anyone are all just him trying to hide his own regret and the fact that he's trying to forget the choices he made in his past. The imagery here is very striking and I think I have to commend you with how you use your prose, its style changing and shifting to adapt to the different feeling that each moment in the story is trying to convey. It's especially effective for getting across that dream-like feeling that the chapter hinges on.

That being said, while the imagery is helpful when it comes to conveying the character's thoughts and feelings, once the story goes into the nightmare side it becomes...a little confusing to truly understand what's going on, or at least it did for me. What I got from the scene at the end is that the nightmare segment is actually Gengar's own memories, which if it is is a good way of showcasing how he hasn't been able to deal with the loss and the consequences of his actions. But I was a little confused because it could also be a point of parallel, to say that the protagonist is also someone that's committed things he's not happy remembering.

Now I'll try to go deeper in with some highlights.

Even Alakazam, Mr. My-IQ-Has-More-Zeros-Than-Your-Bank-Account, had fallen for his ploy hook, line, and sinker. The simple-minded townsfolk were practically eating out of Gengar's palm by the end of his speech. It helped that The Other Human just stood there, mute and dumb, sealing his own fate with silence.

That first line is really funny and the paragraph in general helps set up Gengar's character, or really how he sees himself, pretty quickly which will be important as we dive deeper into his psyche later on.

Our insides don't match our outsides. Gengar banished the thought immediately.

At first I took this really literally like Gengar was having some weird impulse to rip Meowth open. Now I realize he means more the fact that they're two different kinds of humans even though they're both in pokemon bodies.

The fruit's rind was thick and tough, giving way to flesh wafer-thin and almost utterly flavorless. It was like biting into water, water with a salty tang akin to tears.

I thought this paragraph was great, the description feels really viceral even though it's referring to fruit, yet the choice of words makes it feel like he's actually biting into the meowth.

You look up. An inky purple swirl with a cheshire cat smile looks back down at you from atop the cage—it matches the furniture. You smile back through your tears. The swirl's answering smirk falters and then fades. Now it's solemn, entire body tilting until it's upside down, hovering in front of you.

I'm gonna be honest, I didn't quite catch this one >.< I'm sorry.

Gengar?"

No.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

A deep, intense terror filled him. Claws tore at his heart, a heavy anchor threatening to drag him down, down, down. Gengar couldn't move.

"I could ask you the same thing," she said.

No answer.

I'm gonna guess this is the moment where Gengar's dream eater ends up shifting onto himself and his memories start mixing in with Meowth's.

you let the meowth (suddenly she's a ralts, then the meowth again, then some nightmarish amalgamation of both, staring with dead eyes at the window) dangle from a noose in the garage—

Damn, this one is haunting. Again, you have a really great prose when it comes down to chilling and hard hitting imagery because this one made me go cold when I read it.

Anyways, I'm sorry if this probably isn't the best reviews when it comes to analyzing it. Maybe I was a little more lost than I thought. But I still really appreciated what you were going for and I think being able to read a proper story from you where you get to explore themes like this in more detail would be really great.

 

[Nubushi]

Thanks for the explanations!

It actually says "free". But I tend to use the default fonts, so I might look into that, since f and t do look really similar.

Whoops, my mistake! I wouldn't worry about it too much unless other readers are having the same problem.

 

[Spiteful Murkrow]

Heya, popping in to try and make good on my goal of giving reciprocal reviews to writers who bothered to check out my stuff. This oneshot's a bit on the short side, but I figured that it was as good a place to start for paying things forward.

Alright, let's just jump in and see where this goes:

All Pokémon—as Gengar had quickly learned—were suckers. Every single one of them.

Even Alakazam, Mr. My-IQ-Has-More-Zeros-Than-Your-Bank-Account, had fallen for his ploy hook, line, and sinker. The simple-minded townsfolk were practically eating out of Gengar's palm by the end of his speech. It helped that The Other Human just stood there, mute and dumb, sealing his own fate with silence.

Yeah, in retrospect, that was pretty damn dumb of the RBDX protag to do in that in-game. My closest attempt at a rationalization to it was that s/he had a deer in the headlights moment after seeing the entire rest of the town turning on him/her in live-time.

Gengar had been mildly disappointed. He'd hoped for more of a fight from his supposed counterpart—an ounce of cleverness, some display beyond pure brawn. But The Other Human was just another gullible fool. Maybe humans weren't all they were cracked up to be, either, and Gengar was instead a one-of-a-kind genius.

More like The Other Human was a kid who froze up under stress, but you do you there, Gengar.

Clear blue crystals glowed softly in the dark of Lapis Cave. They blossomed out the cracked quartz walls, bloomed out the shattered glass floor. There was something unnerving about the beauty, though, in its unnatural stillness, in its lack of life. The natural disasters and the mystery dungeon both had driven most inhabitants away.

Gengar: “... Wait, why am I here again?”

Gengar's warped reflection followed him within the crystal panes, a multitude of shadows, flitting about out the corner of his eye. He didn't like reminders of his appearance. He hated his ghoulish red gaze, his ghastly white grin. So Gengar stared straight ahead and ignored the shadows.

At first, Gengar had trailed behind the search parties. He enjoyed observing the chaos he'd caused. It was funny, really. Absolutely hilarious. What a bunch of morons.

Gengar was an internet troll back when he was still human, wasn’t he? Since this entire thought process screams “internet troll who has no filter for real life”.

But then night had settled, and the rescue teams settled down too, uninterested in risking unnecessary danger. Boring. So Gengar had struck ahead. And judging by the amber glow flickering further down the tunnel, his decision would soon be rewarded. It was almost impressive how terrible they were at covering their tracks.

Gengar's grin widened.

Gengar: “You know, I should probably be a bit more bothered that this is going to get those two killed.”

- Beat moment -
Gengar: “Nah, screw ’em. That’s what they get for humiliating me and the buds in front of that dweeby Caterpie.”

The Other Human's lap rat, Pikachu, sat by the campfire. More dying ember than an actual flame, the campfire smoldered low; caught in the mirror house of Lapis Cave, Gengar had still picked it out with ease. Pikachu was crouched, ears pricked forward, nose twitching, staring sightlessly into the dark. Every so often, she glanced over at The Other Human.

The Other Human lay curled in a ball. His paws occasionally batted at nothing, brow furrowed, lost in a restless sleep. He looked like an ordinary meowth, as far as Gengar could tell. And yet he wasn't; they were the same.

Oh, so that’s the species that you rolled for this take on the RBDX team. Any reason for those two in particular? Because they’re on the game art? Or did you choose to do them just because?

Our insides don't match our outsides. Gengar banished the thought immediately.

To be fair, that’s true even of normal Pokémon, even if you’ll cause them some problems trying to see that in action. ^^;

Gengar hung back, lurking, considering his options. He didn't particularly want to interfere. He'd already fought them once, and the memory of the defeat still stung his pride. Gengar would rather enjoy the circus from a safe distance. Slow them down, perhaps, then double back and let the others know where they'd gone.

But that didn't mean he couldn't mess with them a little.

Gengar closed his eyes and concentrated. The cave, the crystals, the campfire, the pikachu, all dissolved away. A subtle sweet scent filled the air, vaguely familiar for some reason. He opened his eyes.

Before him stood an enormous tree. Its roots jutted out of the ground, bark knotted and gnarled, branches bare except for a single piece of fruit. The fruit was pale gold in color, speckled brown, and shaped to vaguely resemble a meowth's face.

Gengar: “... The hell? That’s an uncanny coincidence there.” ._.

Gengar sauntered forward and plucked the fruit free. It was lighter than it looked. He inspected it for a brief moment before taking a large, irreverent bite. He munched loudly.

The fruit's rind was thick and tough, giving way to flesh wafer-thin and almost utterly flavorless. It was like biting into water, water with a salty tang akin to tears.

The dream began:

… Wait, that thing made Gengar fall asleep? .-.

You sit in a chair shaped like a birdcage. The wicker basket wraps around you, the corduroy cushion beneath not exactly comfortable, but the novelty makes up for it. You rock back and forth, feet dangling a good inch away from the ground, staring down the hall—all the furniture is purple for some reason—and watching the setting sun filter through the kitchen window.

A meowth sits at the sill, staring back at you. She's a stray that comes around every so often for food, and when storms roll through, your parents let her stay in the garage. The meowth arches her back and yawns, pink tongue stark in her dark maw. She cleans her whiskers with a meticulous dedication you can't help but admire.

Gengar: “Because of course that dweeb would have the same species as my cat. Though why on earth am I even remembering this?” >_>;

The meowth pads away and you never see her again, never know what happened to her. Your cheeks are wet; you don't understand why. Now the house's walls are purple too.

Those are tears, Gengar. You can admit that to yourself.

The birdcage chair sways, and your small fingers clutch the wicker basket for balance. An abrupt 'kehehe' disrupts the somber quiet.

Gengar: “H-Hey wait, that’s my line there.” ._.;

You look up. An inky purple swirl with a cheshire cat smile looks back down at you from atop the cage—it matches the furniture. You smile back through your tears. The swirl's answering smirk falters and then fades. Now it's solemn, its entire body tilting until it's upside down, hovering in front of you.

You study each other. After a moment, it reaches out, long, dark fingers spread across your chest. Your heart beats fast in the palm of its hand. You glance—the hand flicks up with a feather-light touch, brushing your nose.[/I]

Wait, is this that urban legend you were alluding to in the author’s notes? If so, what on earth is this? Since it sounds absolutely fascinating.

A blink. Then you giggle, and the inky blot smiles, and for the first time, the smile reaches its eyes.

The dream was over.

The light turned blinding, no longer dying shades of orange and red, but vibrant greens and yellows. Gengar smelled the sweet scent again, stronger now, tinged with peppermint, and he knew her.

Wait, is this Gardevoir he’s smelling now?

"Gengar?"

No.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

A deep, intense terror filled him. Claws tore at his heart, a heavy anchor threatening to drag him down, down, down. Gengar couldn't move.

Yeah, it’s Gardevoir. I think, anyways.

"I could ask you the same thing," she said.

No answer.

He remembered when he was little: he couldn't fall asleep, afraid of the monsters in his closet. He lay huddled under blankets pulled up to his chin, gazing with wide eyes at the yawning darkness, paralyzed by an inexplicable horror.

And then one day, the closet door creaked open. But there had been no monsters, only a tiny ralts, sweet and gentle, and she'd stayed by his side ever since. For the first time in a long time he'd felt safe, for the first time in a long time he'd slept through the night untroubled.

Yup, it’s Gardevoir. Though that’s a surprisingly

backstory for how the two came to meet each other at first, especially since Gengar ultimately cut and ran on her when the going got tough.

"Gengar?"

No.

"Go away," he said.

The half-eaten fruit fell out of his loose grip. White maggots wriggled in the now blackened flesh—they reminded Gengar of his own smile. He picked it up, stuffing the rest of the fruit in his mouth.

Whelp, have fun with that, Gengar.

The nightmare began:

The walls ooze purple.

It's late and dark. You're home alone—your parents are gone.

You let the stray meowth sleep under your bed—

Oh, well that’s going to end well, I’m sure.

Now the tree was crumbling too, burnt charcoal, bits and pieces decaying in a series of soft, sad sighs as it withered away. The sky became overcast, sullen and grey. Nothing had changed.

—you let her lick your hand—

And yet she paid all of it no mind, stepping closer. Too close.

—the walls are oozing purple—

Gengar: “Yeah, this was a massive mistake.”

"Jacob?"

No!

Oh, so that’s what you opted to call Gengar in this story. It’s actually a surprisingly decent fit given that the origin character from which ‘Jacob’ originates in Abrahamic religion was basically a trickster / troll that caused problems for others. Not wholly unlike Gengar.

—you let the meowth (suddenly she's a ralts, then the meowth again, then some nightmarish amalgamation of both, staring with dead eyes at the window) dangle from a noose in the garage—

Gengar: “The fruit was a mistake, the fruit was a mistake, the fruit was a mistake-”

He slapped her. Palm open and directly across the cheek. He heard the crack, loud and clear; watched her head snap to the side. An ugly red weal burned her pale skin, matching the color of his eyes.

—it's everywhere, you're disgusting, filthy, don't let them look—

She looked at him, hurt, and beneath the hurt brewed silent anger and tired disappointment. The reproach seared more painfully than any flame.

—there's words written in blood on the window:

HUMANS CAN LICK TOO

Gengar:

The nightmare ended.

Gengar was back in Lapis Cave. His reflections glowered at him in the many facets of the crystals dripping off the walls, and he loathed each and every one more passionately than the last.

"Who's there?!" The Other Human was awake, voice a hoarse yowl, fur bristling as he stared wildly out into the dark.

Sparks crackled off Pikachu's cheeks. She stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him, her expression defiant. Gengar hated them both with a quiet desperation.

Gengar: “Um, yeah. I’m just gonna leave now.” O_O;

He wanted to fight, wanted to scream, wanted to beat his breast and throw a tantrum on the cracked glass floor of Lapis Cave. But Gengar didn't do any of those things.

Instead, he did what he did best. He turned tail and ran, ran all the way back to Pokémon Square, and didn't once look back.

Well that was a trippy read. Though what on earth did Gengar eat there? Since I don’t recall any items that could put you into a nightmare / daze like that.

Okay, so I’m not fully sure what went down here to get Gengar into his dream sequence, but it was a nice piece imagining the inner workings of Gengar’s mind and what his backstory might have been as a human. One that feels really plausible for him to boot. It’s always a bit of a balancing act when trying to flesh out canon characters and narratives beyond whatever the official materials provide, but I thought that your efforts here turned out well. I also thought that the dream sequences were well-written, they act as a nice framing vehicle for getting into Gengar/Jacob’s backstory while having a certain air of ‘unreality’ about them, which is especially noticeable after things take a sinister twist and the dreams become nightmares with creepy and surreal visuals. For a story that’s a bit over 1400 words, it was really well done on that front.

I don’t have too much to complain about this one-shot, though I kinda wish more context as to what was happening was provided, whether in the narration or in the author’s notes. It’s not that big a deal-breaker, but it’d have been nice to know whether or not that fruit thing was something based off a game mechanic, or something cooked up wholesale for the one-shot, since there’s a lot of author-specific mechanics and interpretations floating around in this scene, so it’d have been nice to know what exactly was being used to trigger Gengar’s dreams.

In conclusion, I liked it. And that’s the second Union contest oneshot that I’ve read as part of this Review Blitz. It’s getting me a bit interested in trying to dip my toes into that pool myself at some point, since hey, there’s clearly some creative stuff that comes out of it, and your one-shot here wasn’t an exception @zion of arcadia .

Best of luck with the Review Blitz, and hope the feedback helped. ^^

 

[zion of arcadia]

Honestly if anyone should be giving reciprocal reviews, it should be me to you @Spiteful Murkrow LMAO. But thank you, this was very kind. And helpful! I haven't looked dream eater over in ages.

Gengar: “... Wait, why am I here again?”

Heh, good point. Did some reordering of paragraphs so it'd be clearer.

Oh, so that’s the species that you rolled for this take on the RBDX team. Any reason for those two in particular? Because they’re on the game art? Or did you choose to do them just because?

If I'm remembering correctly, it's primarily because that was the team I rolled with in RBDX. But I also liked the idea of a cat-like Pokémon a la Meowth for reasons shown later in the story.

Wait, is this that urban legend you were alluding to in the author’s notes? If so, what on earth is this? Since it sounds absolutely fascinating.

Nope! The urban legend was The Licked Hand. This portion was intended to be the PMD protagonist's warped dream memory.

Oh, so that’s what you opted to call Gengar in this story. It’s actually a surprisingly decent fit given that the origin character from which ‘Jacob’ originates in Abrahamic religion was basically a trickster / troll that caused problems for others. Not wholly unlike Gengar.

You're the first person to catch that. Well done. I have a bad habit of using biblical names for human characters, haha. It makes me feel clever.

It’s not that big a deal-breaker, but it’d have been nice to know whether or not that fruit thing was something based off a game mechanic, or something cooked up wholesale for the one-shot, since there’s a lot of author-specific mechanics and interpretations floating around in this scene, so it’d have been nice to know what exactly was being used to trigger Gengar’s dream.

Interesting, I'd never thought about it that way before. No, it's not based on an in-game item, although it is an extrapolation of how the move Dream Eater might work. Gengar starts off invading our PMD friend's head and then winds up getting trapped in a nightmare of his own making. I'll ponder how to make this more transparent. Thanks for the comments!