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TheCouchEffect

Junior Trainer
Pronouns
He/His
IT'S BEEN FOUR MONTHS AHAHA how did that happen? well, i guess summer job and a really difficult scene happened. there were 3k words worth of outtakes in this revision, no joke.

anyway! this chapter is rated mature for strong language, some gory metaphors and discussion of a past traumatic event. i should also mention that this chapter has considerable arachnophobic elements, so if spiders freak you out, be warned. alright, enjoy!

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CHAPTER EIGHT
Illness


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There was no doubt about it - I’d become sick.

It began from the moment I woke up. Pain. A dull, pressurized pain in my gut. As my mind shook off the haze of slumber - well, as much as it could - I gained the ability to better describe the pain.

It was as if all the organs around the area had detached from their ligaments, letting them flop around freely. After that, they'd all been filled with small cold stones, dried up and shrunk. And finally, on top of all that, their muscles were still inexplicably contracting, causing the organs to ceaselessly squirm around inside me, pressing and grinding against each other and the inner walls of my body.

Basically, I’d become a living, breathing ore processing plant.

This naturally made life very difficult for me. As the fatigue that had struck me yesterday had only strengthened, I found myself almost completely unable to walk. My limbs simply wouldn’t stay straight beneath me.

Luckily, I could still crawl around. I could use the bathroom and drink from the tap. I was on my way back from one such visit when I remembered water wasn’t the only sustenance humans needed, but the carousel inside me strongly disagreed. I knew going without food had a good chance of making things worse, but once I looked down the stairs, I decided that a little starvation was preferable over a broken neck. And so, defeated, I slithered back into my room, buried myself under my blanket and tried my best not to think.

Time passed. Whether it was minutes or hours is still unknown to me. I tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable position. Slumber kept circling me like a wingull stalking a poorly-guarded burger, but it refused to dive. The light from my window flashed my face over and over again… and then, my savior arrived.

I heard a voice from my door and turned towards it. In the frame stood a humanoid creature shorter than a man, but taller than a child. Its head resembled a dark-vined tangela without eyes.

I tried recalling the words it had spoken, but I remembered only some sounds. I stared at the being with miserable eyes, pleading it to explain itself again. Fortunately, it did.

“Are you feeling alright?”

Now that I’d actually paid attention, I recognized the speaker immediately and felt quite stupid. It was Abe. Obviously.

‘No, I feel terrible,’ I attempted to say, but what came out was more like the mating call of a stantler buck.

Fortunately, he got the gist. “Do you want me to bring you anything? Food, water?”

Food had probably become a smart investment by then, and if I could get my water through some other way than channeling the spirit of a slug, all the better. I gave the closest thing I could to a nod along with another horny-stag-roar.

“I’ll get you a sandwich and a glass of water,” Abe said. As he withdrew, I promised myself I’d remember this on the day of ascension. I’d repay him then with a quick, painless death. Or perhaps by turning him into some bird mon. Something that flies has a much better chance of fleeing the Helixians.

Abe returned some time later with his promised sandwich. I chowed it down as fast as I could, which wasn’t very. I thanked Abe with another groan as he left the glass on my nightstand and left. I could tell he would come back again later in the day, and I was happy. Happy that Abe would be there. A rare feeling.

I actually managed to get some more sleep after that, although dreamless. It was a shame as staring at the same room for so long had made me hungry for variety, but at least it meant no nightmares.

What woke me up was another visit from Abe. It went roughly the same as the first, though I also asked how long it had been since the previous visit - a request that took plenty of effort and patience from both parties to be successfully delivered. It had been four hours, but Abe had also checked on me somewhere in the middle quietly enough not to wake me. I accepted the sandwich gladly, as the previous one hadn't made me any sicker. Though it's not like it made me any less fatigued, either.

Visit three was special. It began the same way as the others, but once the food delivery had been negotiated, Abe spoke new words. I didn't catch all of it the first time around, but once the words 'psych appointment' registered, my mind suddenly sharpened. I recognized my pain and exhaustion as ailments of my body, distinct from my consciousness. The fog in my mind thinned considerably, and for the first time in a while, I felt truly awake.

"Psych appointment?" I repeated, to the great surprise of both Abe and myself. The stantler had learned to speak.

"Yeah," he half-said, half-gasped. "I had rescheduled it to be two days from now, but I wanted to ask if you thought I should cancel that and reschedule again."

It must have been the illness that made me say no.

In retrospect, there was every reason to cancel the appointment. I had been very sick for almost a full day and logically I should have anticipated it to continue. There was no pressure to have that appointment as illness was a completely acceptable reason to skip it.

But there I was, drunk on the sudden clarity of my mind. Feeling as if I was getting better by the second. That two days from then, I'd be in the best shape of my life.

And the worst part of it all?

I was right.

"Red?"

I look to my left to meet Abe's curious eyes. I guess I must have gotten lost in thought.

“Sorry. Just thinking,” I say and give a reassuring smile --

Oh, right, but he can’t see it! He can’t see it because I’m wearing a mask! Because it’s the considerate thing to do when going out in public after being sick. Good thing my dear brother was there to remind me of this before we departed. Good thing I didn’t want to bother arguing…

“Alright,” says Abe, and we walk underneath the overgrown entrance and through the front door. We head for the receptionist… who’s the same as last time. Joy. Well, better just get it over with.

I reach for my knife and just barely notice the receptionist flinch. I almost smile, but his reaction’s not enough to make up for having to give up my weapon again.

I detach the scabbard from my belt and place it on the desk. “You know what to do with it.”

He smiles with his mouth, but not his eyes. “Thank you for your cooperation,” he says as he takes the knife. I nod and silently wish for an accident to befall him later in the day.

I pocket my hands and begin heading for the stairs. “You can leave now,” I say to Abe. “I’ve wasted enough of your time.”

“O-oh, no, it’s nothing,” he chuckles. “As long as you get help.”

I stop.

What did he say?

I turn around, but he’s hurrying to the exit already, avoiding my gaze as he stutters his goodbyes. “Yeah, um, hope it goes well. See you later!”

He slips away before I can think of the right way to word the question on my mind. All I’m left with is a tense silence as the receptionist no doubt struggles to restrain himself from some kind of remark. I decide to start climbing the stairs before either of us ends up losing control.

Get help. Get help for what? How have I appeared to be in need of help? I’m perfectly fine. Well, okay, I’m not, but Abe shouldn’t know that. He should only see me as kind of a grump, not as the bloodthirsty predator I actually am...

Hold on. Now I remember something the psych said last time. That Abe had told her I’d seemed ‘unhappy’ and ‘on-edge’, or some other words to that effect. And he mentioned my ‘violent tendencies’, which is bullshit because he only knows about that through word of mouth at school. Is this all he needs as an excuse to force me to get my head checked? Speculation and rumors? That doesn’t sound like Abe. He can’t have made this decision on his own. Someone else must have --

Of course. It all makes sense. This is the work of that puppy crush of his, Alice. That’s why Abe could bring her slaking friend to make sure I didn’t skip the appointment last time. She has her fingerprints all over this. She’s convinced herself I’m some kind of mental case to explain my occasional odd behavior and spread that belief to Abe, and now she’s gotten him to pressure me into psychoanalysis. She must feel so smart. So altruistic, too. The psycho will get his treatment and the rest of society will be safe from him.

Well, unfortunately for her, I feel the best I have in weeks. I’m going to utterly charm that shrink with my normalcy and return with clean papers. And Alice will have to admit she was wrong. Though I suppose she technically isn’t. I pretty much am a psycho. It’s just that she shouldn’t assume.

Having reached hallway E on the third floor, I pick a chair and sit down. It’s the one furthest away from the table. There’s really no way that spider is still there, but… well, it doesn’t matter. It’s my ass and I get to choose where I put it.

Since the hallway’s empty, I can safely remove my mask without anyone scolding me about it. I tuck it in my pocket, and it’s like it was never there. Like I’d just conveniently forgotten it. Shame about all the people I’ll infect now. I hope their number is high.

A minute or few later, Dr Marsh’s door opens, and the psych in question steps through. She calls me in, I get up and enter, all as predicted - though her clothes are different from last time. They’re still black and white, though, and those red glasses and scarf haven’t gone anywhere. She knows her signature.

Once we’ve seated ourselves on the green armchairs, she opens her notebook and asks what is sure to be the first of many questions. “So, I heard you’d gotten sick. Feel better now?”

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” I say with a smile. Stupid bitch.

“That’s good...” She writes something in her notes. I don’t understand her priorities.

She straightens her white wool sweater, then looks back at me. “So… you mentioned last time that you’d given up school to take care of your sick friend, correct?”

Damn it. I was hoping she wouldn’t bring up the omanyte anymore. “Correct.”

“And you spend most of your time tending to Him, then?”

I’ve set myself up for a ‘yes’. I suppose I’ll have to give it and only hope Abe hasn’t said anything contradicting. “Also correct.”

“Is it your parents that support you, then, or some other party?”

I suppress a sigh of relief. No accusations yet. Though it’s not like parents are among my favorite topics, either… but, really, what kind of shrink would this woman be if she didn’t bring those up at some point?

“Primarily, it’s my mother and stepfather that provide for me, my brother and my mon companions, but Fonz also takes short jobs from time to time,” I reply. “Fonz being one of those companions.”

“I see.” She writes something down in her notes. I guess that answered something she had in mind. I hope in the right way.

As I shift my position for comfort, I realize I’ve crossed my arms and legs. Should they remain this way? It can appear hostile. But it also shows defensiveness. Are more people comfortable or uncomfortable in a situation like this? Should I untangle my limbs only later on to give the illusion that I’ve warmed up to her?

Gods, people are so much harder when their guard is up. Maybe I shouldn’t overthink this. Maybe that in itself will make me seem unnatural.

Dr Marsh raises her gaze from her notes, and that's my cue to listen up.

"Would you describe yourself as impulsive?" she asks.

Oh, we're back into those form-questions again, it seems. Boring, but safe. "No, not really."

"Are you irritated easily?"

"I wouldn't say so."

"Have you ever stolen anything?"

Stolen? “Where did this come from?”

“It’s just a standard question. Don’t think much of it.”

I doubt it, but this’ll all be over faster if I just go along with it. “Well, no. I haven’t stolen anything.” Probably have, but the less I think about it, the less I’m technically lying.

"Did you have many friends at school?"

"A couple." That's standard, right?

"Do you still spend time with them?"

"...Not as much, but yes, occasionally. Like when Helix is at school." Proud at that quick thinking, I almost smirk. People love it when you tie things together.

"Aren't they at school?"

Ah. Should've known nothing would be that simple with her. "During recess."

"Those seem like good friends."

Seems like she accepted that answer. "They are."

"Have you ever been in a relationship?"

What, are you interested? "No." I see no need to lie. While society loves to see people jam themselves into relationships - there’s an entire holiday to applaud those that give in to their hormones - statistics are still on my side. There are plenty of guys my age that are interested in more important matters or simply unlucky when it comes to the dating game.

She withdraws to her notes again. I take the time to let my eyes wander around the room, refresh my brain a little bit. It's not terribly interesting, but --

Something moved.

In the little dark crevice at the corner of the ceiling, something moved.

Was it a fly? Or was it --

Long, pointy limbs stick out, and the ugliest of critters crawls onto the wall. Yep, a spider. Gods… is this building especially alluring to them somehow?

Whatever. As long as it stays all the way over there, it doesn’t matter.

“Alright, Mr Akai,” starts the psych, drawing my attention back to her face. “I must be frank. I do not believe you’re being honest.”

What?

No, don’t stop to think, respond, respond!

I reach an awkward hand behind my ear and scratch. “Uh…” I chuckle. ”Sorry, what do you mean?”

"I have a knack for lie detection," she says, leaning back, "but I'm not making this accusation purely off a hunch. I know you haven't been speaking the truth."

I grasp the arm of my chair a little tighter. "How so?"

"I had a long chat with your brother in preparation for this appointment. He let me know about a lot of things - especially how you've barely said a word to your omanyte friend in months."

My heart jumps.

She knew. She knew and she led me on regardless, only to uncover it now. And it's… it's exactly what she did last time, too! Why didn't I see it? Why didn't I --

No, don't dwell on that now. You need to fix this.

I sit up straighter. "Well, I mean… it is true I've been more distant to Him lately, but that's because He asked me to do that. He felt like He'd been spending too much time with me, and that We should take some time off apart. He wanted to become more independent, too. You know how it is." Please know how it is.

"Well, that would make sense," she says, "but I talked with your friend Mr Fonz as well, and he said the reason behind the silence between You two was some incident back in February. He didn't go into too much detail, but he mentioned that he would have expected you to start talking to Helix again by now - and that Helix agreed."

Fuck. First Abe, now Fonz - can't those fuckers keep anything private? Just how much did they tell her? Did they really give those details? Is she just setting me up for another pitfall? How am I supposed to respond --

The spider in the corner moves. It’s coming down the wall. And behind it, from the crevice it crawled out of, new legs emerge --

No, the spider isn’t important! Focus!

“Mr Akai?”

Fuck! You’re not helping!

My glare makes her recoil. Shit. No, I can't let her see she's getting to me. Look down at the floor and calm down. You haven’t said anything incriminating yet. You can still make it through this.

"I'm sorry I have to pry into private matters like this," she continues, "but your close ones believe it's relevant to your mental wellbeing, and that means it's relevant to a thorough analysis."

‘Sorry’. Bullshit, you’re not sorry. This is a game for you. Catch the patient lying, force them to reveal their secrets. Ring up the police and reap the glory as they cart away the nutjob. Oh, what a hero you are!

“I would appreciate it if you were honest with me from now on. You don’t have to share everything, only what you’re comfortable with - but please, don’t try to give a false impression. I’m going to be able to tell anyway.”

She speaks these words in a comforting voice, but she must know that the implication is anything but. Nevertheless, I give a defeated nod. It’s not like I have a choice.

“Now, this silence between you and your omanyte companion… how do you feel about it?”

Well, how do I answer this? The Red that cared for the omanyte would be devastated. The Red that must no longer care for the omanyte would not be bothered. Problem is, both lead to further prying from the psych. If I was so attached to the omanyte, it wouldn’t make sense for me to keep my distance for so long. If I wasn't that attached to the omanyte, that'd contradict Abe and Fonz's testimonies and make her question why I'd change my attitude so drastically. And the answer to that is a door to all my deepest secrets…

So is it attachment, then? It’s the lesser of two evils. But how am I going to motivate staying away from the omanyte while still making the psych think I’m normal and don’t have any problems?

...Maybe it’s already too late for that.

Maybe revealing that secret is the only way to protect the others.

“It’s… it’s complicated,” I finally say.

“Complicated?”

I feel the vertigo of standing at the edge of a cliff, but it’s either this jump that’ll break my legs or dropping from a plane without a parachute.

“The incident that Fonz was talking about...”

I go back to February, to that day, to that moment.

The omanyte stares at me with eyes wide as plates as I babble on about my delusions. He’s trembling.

No, not He, it. You may be thinking back to a time when it was still a He, but now He is an it.

Alright. It is trembling, trembling because it doesn’t understand why I’m acting the way I am. Why I threw away its phone. Why I told the omanyte that it was in danger, that the phone would kill it, when phones had never been dangerous - it was always the computers, and only at the Centers. And only because of the Twitch. Which happened six years ago. And never since.

“Do you know what happens to computers when you’ve got the Twitch?” I ask.

“They begin malfunctioning, don’t they?”

I nod. “Yeah. The pokéball storage system doesn’t work. It traps the mon in their balls, and it makes the unregistration feature...”

“Break them.”

I nod again. She’s done her research.

“Well,” I continue, “knowing that, having no control over your body, and your companions being trapped with you… you naturally develop a fear. At least, I did. A fear of… screens, user interfaces. Very inconvenient in this day and age.”

“Certainly.”

“And when a companion of yours is just… browsing away on their smartphone, and you take a poor trip down memory lane...”

I grit my teeth. But this is the price I need to pay to still walk out of here a free man.

“Well, you freak out. You think that phone’s another death machine. You take it and… throw it away. And when they question you, when the others join in to ask you what the hell you’re doing, you tell them you were mistaken, that the distortion never went away, that you just wanted to believe it and got careless… and that little omanyte is going to become very scared.”

A short silence.

Does she believe me?

“I see,” she finally says. “So that’s what happened.”

It sounds like she believes me. It sounds like she wants to ask more about it. I sigh in relief. Finally, I catch a break.

“So… you scared your omanyte companion, and now you feel like you should stay away?”

Yes. Precisely, yes - that’s how I felt before HE ordered me to drop my attachment completely. I nod with my neck far less tense.

“From what Mr Fonz said,” she begins, “it sounded like Helix did not want you to stay away. Were you aware of that?”

Oh, this is perfect. This is the resolution that’ll satisfy her, make her feel like she really solved a problem, that she mended yet another person’s life like the savior she is.

“I wasn’t,” I breathe out in realization. “I thought I’d ruined it all, that I’d...” I chuckle at my own naivete. “But I guess I just let my fears run wild, and now...”

I plaster a sickeningly wholesome smile on my face. “I can just go to Him.”

It.

Right. “It.”

I freeze.

The blood drains from my face.

She didn’t hear that, did she? Just in case she did, I should...

“I mean Him.”

...No. That was the worst thing I could have possibly done.

I nail my gaze to the floor and seal my lips tight before any more reckless, life-ruining words can get out, but for the split second I could still see the psych’s face, I knew it was already too late.

“What was that?” she asks, but it’s clear from her tone that she'd heard each word.

Clinging to whatever control I have left, I give no answer.

But what’s she gonna think about that? It's only gonna confirm her suspicions. Instead, I should pretend like I never said that at all. No - that’s suspicious, too. And if she can detect my lies when I’m doing my best, she’ll undoubtedly see through that act. Shit!

“Did you refer to Him… as an ‘it’ right now?”

She’s going for it. She’s going for it. Oh Gods.

As much as I dread seeing her expression, I have to check. I give her a glance. I see confusion, but more strongly, intrigue.

But if that wasn’t enough, there’s something else - something on her shoulder. Something black and many-legged. I check the back wall -- empty. No Spider One, no Spider Two. It’s fair to assume the one on the psych’s shoulder is one of the two - but where’s the other one? Is it near me? Is it --

“Mr Akai?”

She forces my eyes back to hers and, consequently, my attention back to the conversation. Right. I can’t stay quiet. I have to say something. I have to at least try. Maybe stall for time first?

“Sorry, what?” I say in the most casual way I currently can.

She leans back. She’s not repeating the question. Did she decide it was just a silly slip of the tongue with no underlying cause? Could I be that lucky?

“You’re very nervous all of a sudden,” she says. “Are you perhaps… afraid of being diagnosed with something?”

Is that common? It might be common. I doubt normal people like being branded as abnormal. Yes, I may have a shot with this approach. If what I say is partly true, perhaps she won’t sense any lie.

That confidence lets me relax my posture a bit. “Well… yes,” I say, clasping my hands together. “I wouldn’t want you getting any wrong ideas about me.”

“Oh, I am a trained psychiatrist. You can trust my judgment.”

Trust you to get me locked up so you can clean the blemish off your perfect society. Sure, I’ve killed. Sure, I’ve tortured. I am a criminal. But am I really expected to believe you’d just let me walk out here totally free had I done none of it and only had the urge? That you’d stick to human rights with someone you brand inhuman?

She shifts in her seat. “I want you to know, Mr Akai, that a diagnosis is nothing to be afraid of. On the contrary, it’s better to be diagnosed with something than to remain unaware. That way both you and the people around you can understand you better.”

Oh, shut up. I already know everything I need to know about myself, and HE knows the rest. No one else needs to know a goddamn thing.

At least she’s focusing on convincing me of this now. Maybe if I keep her busy with it, our time will run out before she can get to actual conclusions, and I’ll be able to come up with a million one and one reasons why I can’t show up by the next time she wants to see me.

Once again, I shield myself with the truth as I ask my next question. “But won’t being diagnosed with something make people… want to avoid me?”

“They don’t need to know if you don’t want them to,” she says. “All of this is confidential. Not even your brother or your parents can find out if you don’t want them to, as long as there’s no pressing reason they should for their or your own safety.”

Hm. Better not let her find out how often I’ve dreamed of killing my mother, then.

“What would those reasons be?” I ask, my expression unchanging in its concern - but on the inside, I lean back and lift up my feet with a smirk on my face. As long as I’m asking her questions, she can’t ask hers. I’ve found the path out of the labyrinth, and the light of freedom’s coming ever closer.

Even the spider’s retreating. It crawls onto her back, out of sight. Excellent - it’s very likely going to be squished the next time the psych leans back again.

“If you told me, for example, that you frequently thought about hurting other people or yourself and expressed having difficulty fighting back these urges.”

“I see.”

“Do you have urges like this?”

I --

Do not answer directly. Conceal your true feelings.

“That’s quite a question,” I laugh. “Do you see me as someone that would?”

"Don't take it personally," she says. "This, too, is a rather common question. For safety reasons, you see."

"I see." I suppose.

"But I will admit…"

What? What?

"Your brother's mention of those 'violent tendencies' did partly motivate the question."

Shit. Right. She did say Abe had told her something like that before. What did I answer then? Surely I must have dismissed it - but if she's bringing it up again, she must have not believed me. Knowing now how she can detect lies - likely not perfectly, but to some extent - it makes sense. And she's already caught me lying more than once now.

"We didn't really get to go through those last time," she continues. "I'd like to talk about it now, if that's okay."

If that's okay… so I could say no? Actually refuse to answer? Why would she give me that option --

Ah, of course! She must be asking this in case those experiences were too painful to bring up. I mean, it's not like mine were anything enjoyable. Mostly I fought against the students that would talk shit at me…

Which makes it the self-defense of a victim of bullying. Which makes it a perfect sob story. Yes! I'm going with this.

I give a shy nod, avoiding her gaze. "Sure."

"In what kind of situations did these tendencies manifest?"

"When being bullied, basically," I sigh. "Some other kids recognized me as a target, I suppose, and it only got worse when they found out they could exploit my anger and get me into trouble for being in fights."

Conveniently, I leave out the part about the guy I paid to act as my personal punching bag each Monday to help curb my bloodlust for the rest of the week. It's not like I look back at those times with the joy I used to, anyway, given the last time I saw the guy, he really fucked up my plans… and just because he couldn't keep his mouth shut. Even when that was clearly part of our agreement...

"What do you think made you a target?"

"Well, you know, being the lonely, quiet kid… easy pickings."

"Were your friends not around those times, then?"

What friends?

Oh. Oh Gods, right.

"They, uh, they… yeah, they weren't. I wasn't with them all the time, you know."

Her eyes narrow just a little, but it's enough to know my story's shattered. She could tell I had no goddamn idea what friends she was talking about.

"There's no shame in admitting you had no friends, you know…" she says - but there's more to come.

"But I don't get any shame from you."

I swallow dryly.

She leans back now. "You're still trying to cover up, aren't you?"

Eye contact burns too much to hold. I drop my gaze to the floor, but that heat still radiates.

How deep is she going to dig? Will she not be satisfied before all trace of deception is gone? Before all that I am is on record? Before she's flayed me and counted each one of my veins?

Silence holds as I have no words left to say. Seconds later, she sighs.

"Perhaps it's my turn to be honest."

What?

My eyes leap back to her face, and her stare no longer blazes like before - but the relief doesn't last long as I see something that freezes me instead.

I see the thin black lines on her ear and my hopeful side says they must be stray hairs, but then they move and do it too quickly - they're legs, legs of a spider. The spider.

It's dragging itself across the ear, across her skin, but she shows no signs of noticing. Can she not feel it? Can she not hear it?

"Since you seem very concerned with what I think about you..."

Oh Gods, she's talking, I better pay attention.

"...I'll tell you what my current theory is."

Theory? About me? Is she -- is she giving the diagnosis, right now?

"The way you lie so naturally and seemingly without shame, how your brother talks of past violent tendencies, how you're possibly trying to reduce your friend to an it in your mind…"

I try to follow what she's saying, I try, I try, but the spider's keep crawling, now moving onto her cheek. How can she not notice it, why doesn't she notice it, why doesn't she flail and scream? Is the spider so light that it can't be felt? It has to be. But that means…

That means there could be one on me right now and I wouldn't know it.

I swipe across my face, then down my arms, then along my thighs, all with lightning speed to fling off any spiders, real or imagined. I only freeze once I remember where I am.

I check the psych's face. Startled, surprised. Explain this, quickly. What's the sanest reason?

Right, I guess it's pretty close to the real one.

"I-I'm sorry," I get out. "Felt a spider."

A painful second of silence follows - but it's dulled the moment she responds. "Oh, alright."

So that was normal. Normal enough, at least. I exhale in relief.

"So back to what I was saying…"

What was she talking about again?

Oh, wait. Oh shit.

Her eyes capture mine once more - and I flinch at the spider uncomfortably close to her eyeball.

"Those traits seem rather antisocial."

Antisocial. Anti, social. The opposite of social. Social means friendly, outgoing. The opposite is a misanthropic loner.

In other words, me.

She has found me out.

No, no, she hasn't! She hasn't found out about my bloodlust, my murders. She doesn't know the full story. Right now, all she can assume is that I prefer to spend my time alone. Nothing more.

"Do you feel that word describes you?"

How should I answer? No, I'll respond with a question again! Stall until I come up with another plan!

"H-how is that word d-defined?" No, don't stutter! She'll see through you!

"The most formal definition, I believe, talks of behavior sharply deviating from social norms…"

Her words become muddled again as the spider heads for her eye. My breathing halts. She can't possibly ignore what's to come.

"...and a persistent disregard for the rights and feelings of others. Informally, though…"

The spider reaches the corner. Its legs play with her eyelashes. She has to feel it. She has to feel it. She has to feel it so I can feel it. So I can know there's nothing on me when I feel nothing instead of gods know how many little legs are creeping on me, my skin… but there it is, lifting and lowering its legs undisturbed, just at the edge of her eye. If it goes any further --

"...people call a person like that a sociopath."

It steps onto the white of her eye. Squish.

"That's enough!"

The words, the roar, burst out before I could think. My muscles threw me off this chair to stand upright. My lungs, frozen before, now hyperventilate.

The psych stares at me with the shock I expected her to get from the spider - but that spider's now nowhere to be seen.

It fell off. It fell off, or it crawled inside her eye --

No! I claw at my scalp. Don't think that, it's not even possible, so don't torture yourself with the thought --

"Mr Akai?"

Her voice is calm. She shouldn't be calm. She's putting on an act because she's afraid of me. But she wasn't afraid of me before, no, she toyed with me. She's calm for another reason. She knows something I don't. She's pleased with how things have turned out. As if she --

"Did you plan this?" I spit. She flinches, she planned it. "You did. You-you trained them somehow to --"

Then she knows where that second one is, and she has some plan for that one, too, it must be on me --

I shake my whole body. I ruffle my hair, nails scraping the scalp to blood. Get off. Get off. Get off.

But wait! If she can command them, she can command them off me. I just have to threaten her, yes! I jerk up my head and turn to her, take a step --

She’s terrified.

She’s halfway off the chair, frozen in an awkward crouch. The angle of her position suggests she was heading for the door. To escape.

Me.

Because I’m acting crazy.

Slowly, I stand up straight. The room is either silent or the pounding of my heart just makes me deaf to all else.

Okay. Okay. What now? I-I just suggested she was somehow controlling spiders to fuck with me. That makes no sense. Why did I even think that? Am I losing my mind?

No, no, I’m just freaking out because I hate spiders so much. I admit it, I’m arachnophobic. Could she buy that as a justification? If she can tell when I’m lying, she should be able to tell when I’m being honest, too, right?

I let out a discomforted chuckle, unsure how much of it was natural and how much was feigned to enhance my act. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I assure the psych with hand motions and all, and I can see her settling back down on the chair, the fear in her eyes easing up. “I just really, really don’t like spiders and there’s a couple in here and they’re stressing me out, especially since they’re making it so hard for me to act normal which I need to do because in actuality, I’m --”

No.

No, what did you just say?

“You’re what?” asks the psych. She’s on edge, still, but her pen hand is trembling, trembling with triumph, I’m sure. I just all but admitted I’m a psycho. This was the final piece to the puzzle. I can no longer salvage this. I’m ruined.

No.

I can still make sure it doesn’t get any worse!

I sprint to the door, startling the shrink, but she doesn’t try to stop me. I grab the handle - and stop for a split second to reassure myself there are no spiders on it - and wrench the door open, pushing through to the other side.

“Mr Akai, please --”

“No!”

I throw the door shut and slam my back against it to keep her from coming out. Heartbeat bombarding my ears, I ruffle my hair again, ruffle to get rid of all real and imaginary arachnids. My body convulses with violent shudders. I shake myself like a mightyena after a dip in a pond. Only instead of water, it’s spiders. So many spiders.

I run to the end of the hallway, turn the corner, then run and turn another corner, then stop. There are nothing but hallways here. Nothing but white, no windows, no doors. I really should have bumped into something familiar by now if I was going the right way… should I go back to where I started and try again?

Oh Gods. Things just keep going wrong. I’m lost, I’m hyperventilating, and there’s probably people searching the building to detain me at this very moment. I just wanna get out. I wanna get out of here as soon as possible, before anything else goes wr-

Oh Gods no.

---
Okay, wow. I am so glad I saved reading this until I had finished moving into my dorms. This is probably one of my favorite chapters of this story purely because of your descriptions and use of the spider to show how much Red is slipping. I'm curious what those three thousand words of outtakes were. Slightly altered versions of what happened or more in-depth descriptions that just didn't fit the scene?

It was nice to see Red and Abe interact more, especially with Red being in a position of vulnerability with how physically sick he was at the beginning. Seeing his idea of gratitude and repayment for genuine kindness also made me crack a slight grin. Because somehow I just knew that it would involve giving people a slightly better chance at survival when the apocalypse comes.

His conversation with the psychiatrist was really good, even when you ignore the excellent use of the spider. Seeing him slowly lose his grip on reality was done well, especially concerning his conflicting feelings about Helix. Seeing how Red slowly but surely lost control of the conversation and kept contradicting himself and others was tense and I was always waiting to see what he would do next to try to regain control of the situation. As was mentioned in a previous review, the psychiatrist doesn't seem the most professional but since that seems to be what you're going for I can get behind it. Especially since you use it so well to move the plot along.

One critique I would have is that the psychiatrist decided to continue the session after Red's outburst when she was clearly terrified. Even with Red's internal thoughts believing that she was more interested in labeling him and trapping him, a part of me wonders if she felt more afraid of what would happen if she did try to leave.

That ending was also fantastic. Seeing how Red has dug his own grave and almost admitted what he was were really well done. I'm left on the edge of my seat wanting to see what else went wrong there at the end. A face from the past? A group of orderly's ready to catch him? Another hallucination? I can't wait to find out.

Overall, great job!
 

canisaries

you should've known the price of evil
Location
Stovokor
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. inkay-shirlee
  2. houndoom-elliot
  3. yamask-joanna
  4. shuppet
  5. deerling-andre
I'm curious what those three thousand words of outtakes were. Slightly altered versions of what happened or more in-depth descriptions that just didn't fit the scene?
It was basically different paths the conversation and Red's freaking out about the spider would have taken. So both in a way, I suppose.

One critique I would have is that the psychiatrist decided to continue the session after Red's outburst when she was clearly terrified. Even with Red's internal thoughts believing that she was more interested in labeling him and trapping him, a part of me wonders if she felt more afraid of what would happen if she did try to leave.
Well, I would argue that she was trying to de-escalate the situation once Red apologized and seemed to come more to his senses, which made the situation seem less dangerous to her.

Overall, great job!
:veelove: Glad you liked! And hope you'll enjoy what's to come, too.
 

Sinderella

Angy Tumbleweed
Staff
Location
In Guzma's Closet
Pronouns
She/Her
Partners
  1. sylveon-shiny
  2. gothitelle
  3. froslass
  4. chandelure
  5. mimikyu
Hey Canis! Here for (late) Catnip (again...am the worst, so v sorry :((( ). Happy as hell I ended up rolling this because I was able to catch up again, woo!!! I missed this psychopath, and boy, he just made life VERY hard for himself. Love to see it.

Anyway, this was an interesting chapter. Through everything with the spider on Dr. Marsh's face, I was waiting for it to be revealed that it was all just a dream sequence, and that he was still sick in bed. But, that'd have been too ideal. I feel bad that I'm rooting so hard for him when he ABSOLUTELY deserves to be locked up in a box, but yeah. This was rough. She must absolutely now think he's boiling newborns in his basement. Way to keep it calm, cool, and collected Red.

Though I am wondering...was that really just a hallucination?? Or was that our good friend Michi giving him some comeuppance from beyond the grave? Or the work of Joanna's mask? Was that also why he was so sick to start? There has to be some bigger picture shit happening here, and I'm really excited to find out if I'm right.

Overall, this was a solid chapter. I guess my only gripe was that Dr. Marsh's dialogue seemed a little too "cookie cutter psych" to me. Like, almost a stereotype, if that makes sense? But also, I get it. I feel like she kinda had to be to be able to trip Red up so bad.

Good fic, pls update soon <3

Dumbness:
I kept marking all of these but eventually decided to stop because it was consistent--however, all of these had dropped "." in them, couldn't tell if this was intentional or not.

Of course. It all makes sense. This is the work of that puppy crush of his, Alice. That’s why Abe could bring her slaking friend to make sure I didn’t skip the appointment last time. She has her fingerprints all over this. She’s convinced herself I’m some kind of mental case to explain my occasional odd behavior and spread that belief to Abe, and now she’s gotten him to pressure me into psychoanalysis. She must feel so smart. So altruistic, too. The psycho will get his treatment and the rest of society will be safe from him.
Ohhhh interesting! Kind of want to know a little more about why Alice is so invested in Red's life if she isn't actually dating Abe though? Would this be answered if I finished Seiren?

Also, this goes without saying, but Abe's a fucking simp.

Right. “It.”

I freeze.

The blood drains from my face.

She didn’t hear that, did she? Just in case she did, I should...

“I mean Him.”
oh my god Red, no

I see the thin black lines on her ear and my hopeful side says they must be stray hairs, but then they move and do it too quickly - they're legs, legs of a spider. The spider.

It's dragging itself across the ear, across her skin, but she shows no signs of noticing. Can she not feel it? Can she not hear it?
MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY, HUH

‘No, I feel terrible,’ I attempted to say, but what came out was more like the mating call of a stantler buck.
I laughed way too hard at the image of this.

“Do you know what happens to computers when you’ve got the Twitch?” I ask.

“They begin malfunctioning, don’t they?”

I nod. “Yeah. The pokéball storage system doesn’t work. It traps the mon in their balls, and it makes the unregistration feature...”

“Break them.”

I nod again. She’s done her research.
Ohhhhhhhh so the Twitch is like a thing that EVERYONE can kinda know that happens?? Interesting.

Which makes it the self-defense of a victim of bullying. Which makes it a perfect sob story. Yes! I'm going with this.
Mmmmm, press X to Doubt.

I can still make sure it doesn’t get any worse!
Mmmmm, press X to Doubt 2X

“I just really, really don’t like spiders and there’s a couple in here and they’re stressing me out, especially since they’re making it so hard for me to act normal which I need to do because in actuality, I’m --”
THE SCEAM I SCRAM, RED YOU'RE GOING TO PRISON
 

HelloYellow17

Gym Leader
Pronouns
She/Her
Partners
  1. suicune
  2. umbreon
  3. mew
Iiiiiit’s CATNIP TIME

I ended up reading over both prologues, though I’ll be giving most of my thoughts on the original! I’m not sure how much critique you’d want on the alternate one, considering it’s…well, alternate. Anyways, let’s begin!

Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out…
Right off the bat, this sentence kind of threw me for a loop because I’m used to the phrase “breathe in/out.” Looking at the rest of the chapter, I’m not sure which word you were going for, but “breathe” definitely reads smoother, imo. Or, as an alternate suggestion, “one breath in, one breath out…”

Ah, sharp, hard, something on back… move, move to floor, oh, tired, tired arms and legs, body sticky and bare -- red? Red smears? Blood! Am I hurt?

...No, nothing hurts. Only smears. Can move rest of way. Ugh, sweat glues to floor, wet hair on neck, gross. Foot uncomfortable, move --
Love the short, barely coherent sentences here. The way you open up to the scene is so vivid! Makes me feel like I’m coming to my senses right along with Red and sharing his confusion and brief panic.

Agh, I’m struggling to find the words to describe why and how I like this. It’s just really really good. You tap into all the senses, describe the room and the setting gradually as Red collects himself, and it’s just—just—*chefs kiss* MAGNIFIQUE. Probably one of the best openers I’ve ever read in terms of setting the scene, truly.
The middle of the small intestine, though, seems oddly parted. Looking closer, there seems to be something pooled on the mesentery, something viscous… oh.
…I have to admit that this confused me. For one, I know next to nothing about human anatomy (at least when it comes to internal organs), so if there was a joke or some hidden piece of info here, I…didn’t get it. 😅
Gods, did the room smell this bad the whole time? It's like something died in here. Oh, wait!
This is one of my favorite things about the whole story: Red making jokes to himself and thinking he’s absolutely hilarious for it, all the while unaware of just how eerily disconnected he is from all the…well, murder. He’s clearly not right in the head, and these off-color jokes are extremely effective in getting that across.
The realization disturbs my gut. Oh, it’s in there then. Unwashed tongue, that’s a little disgusting… though I suppose regular people exchange spit voluntarily all the time. Would this count as first base, then?
Oh lawd I don’t know whether to laugh or be horrified. Maybe a bit of both. Also the fact that Red is grossed out, not because he *ate a person,* but because the tongue wasn’t washed. Lovely order of priorities there 🤣


The ending of the chapter was also fantastic, ending with the victim’s name. I definitely prefer this opening over the other one—and this is coming from someone who doesn’t like gore, even! It’s engaging, vivid, gives you a very clear idea of how messed up in the head Red is, and it answers enough questions while still leaving many unanswered to keep me wanting more. None of it felt exposition-y, either, which is hard to do in a first chapter when you’re setting up the story. Fantastic job, honestly!

A few notes on the alternate version:
The stench of the corpse reaches my nostrils, fuck, now it's out there, but now I enter the opening and here I go!
I was of the impression that he had just killed Joanna, and if that’s the case, there wouldn’t be a smell yet, right?
Just before the advancing lights meet at the other end of the circle, something clicks in the bird's brain. It flaps its wings frantically, stumbling into the air, the circle's edge as its destination. Another red glow envelops everything within the circle, murkrow included. It brightens, and...

Flash.
Ohhhh. A while back I read through chapter…6, I think? The one where we say goodbye to Michi. And I remember being confused about the whole flash of light disappearing thing, but this explains it a little more and clears stuff up. I mean, I’m still wondering just who and what exactly HELIX is, and how this kind of magic is possible, but those are questions for later.
While I do have the means to wipe my own memories of this incident, I shouldn’t go messing around with my brain.
Oh?? So he has a way to wipe his memory? Can he wipe other people’s memories? Is this more HELIX voodoo, I assume?

While the alternate prologue answers a few more questions and gets into more detail about Red’s relationship with HELIX, why he’s doing what he’s doing, etc, it definitely wasn’t as gripping as the original. It was a bit more info dumpy. And it’s quite a difference going from the original, where we are right with Red in the moment and experiencing his emotions right alongside him, to this one where most of it is him explaining himself and only talking about the murder in hindsight.

I did enjoy the Murkrow interactions, though! I feel like the Murkrow was meant to symbolize something—maybe the potential consequences of Red’s actions haunting him and threatening to expose him, or a shadow of his conscience. Some regret or fear about what he’s doing that he’s just buried way deep down, perhaps?

Anyways, excellent job, love your prose, and you really make Red’s personality shine. :D
 

canisaries

you should've known the price of evil
Location
Stovokor
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. inkay-shirlee
  2. houndoom-elliot
  3. yamask-joanna
  4. shuppet
  5. deerling-andre
Right off the bat, this sentence kind of threw me for a loop because I’m used to the phrase “breathe in/out.” Looking at the rest of the chapter, I’m not sure which word you were going for, but “breathe” definitely reads smoother, imo. Or, as an alternate suggestion, “one breath in, one breath out…”
The opening line is something that has been kind of a thorn in my side for a longer time. The thing is that it is supposed to be "breath", the noun, since it's meant to be observation/narration rather than an instruction he'd be telling himself, which using "breathe" makes it seem like - but a lot of readers and I myself just expect "breathe in" so it looks like a mistake even though it isn't. Adding "one" in front would make it clearer that it's a noun, but the phrasing doesn't feel like it fits how someone just awakening (or coming off a possession) would process things.

I think I've now managed to come up with an alternative that I like, though: "Breathing in, breathing out, [...]". It should get across the idea of Red just observing what his body's doing and feeling at first.

Agh, I’m struggling to find the words to describe why and how I like this. It’s just really really good. You tap into all the senses, describe the room and the setting gradually as Red collects himself, and it’s just—just—*chefs kiss* MAGNIFIQUE. Probably one of the best openers I’ve ever read in terms of setting the scene, truly.
I'm just 😊😊😊 at these words <3

…I have to admit that this confused me. For one, I know next to nothing about human anatomy (at least when it comes to internal organs), so if there was a joke or some hidden piece of info here, I…didn’t get it.
Don't worry, you may be happier that way.

I was of the impression that he had just killed Joanna, and if that’s the case, there wouldn’t be a smell yet, right?
When it comes to an intact corpse, you'd probably be right, but Joanna's abdominal cavity had been opened, which I believe smells pretty bad dead or alive. I wasn't actually able to verify that quickly now that I tried looking it up, though, so I may be wrong.

Oh?? So he has a way to wipe his memory? Can he wipe other people’s memories? Is this more HELIX voodoo, I assume?
Yup! HELIX offers many convenient plot shortcuts spells.

I did enjoy the Murkrow interactions, though! I feel like the Murkrow was meant to symbolize something—maybe the potential consequences of Red’s actions haunting him and threatening to expose him, or a shadow of his conscience. Some regret or fear about what he’s doing that he’s just buried way deep down, perhaps?
Hmmm nah no not really I just like birds

While the alternate prologue answers a few more questions and gets into more detail about Red’s relationship with HELIX, why he’s doing what he’s doing, etc, it definitely wasn’t as gripping as the original. It was a bit more info dumpy. And it’s quite a difference going from the original, where we are right with Red in the moment and experiencing his emotions right alongside him, to this one where most of it is him explaining himself and only talking about the murder in hindsight.
I agree. I haven't really been able to come up with a better way of executing a less gory intro to the story, though. But more people have been able to read the original anyway, so it's not much of a worry for me.
 
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Homestar!

Mikeposter/Galaxy-Brainer
Location
NorCal
Pronouns
He/Him
Partners
  1. nidoqueen
Hey Canis! Here for the Catnip.

Jesus that prologue was something, huh? I remember sitting down to read this before when I wasn’t in as sound of a mental place: I couldn’t get much further than a few paragraphs. It was a little too gruesome for me at the time. I never specified my own tastes, but I think I may have to reroll on this in the future.

From a technical standpoint, there are few (if any) issues. From a thematic standpoint, the imagery is disgustingly clear; The consistency of the detached, reveling, murderous perspective is strong. Your ‘fade-in’ is structured well and works brilliantly: it’s spasmodic, it’s lurching, it’s gruesome. HH strikes me as a work that is utterly compelling to some and repelling to others.

Unfortunately, I am firmly the latter. I’m gonna do my best to give you a good dose of catnip, but (from a purely subjective standpoint) this isn’t something I would read at this point in my life. Then again, I don’t usually read Stephen King, either, but I also find his work to be compelling when I do.

First Pass: Intended Prologue; Ch. 1

So, when I heard/read this was a horror-style take on Twitch Plays Pokémon, I was hype at the insanity of the prospect. I’ve had this idea of a ‘speed run novelization’ pinging around the back of my mind for quite some time and was eager to see how you would adapt TPP to the written word.

I gotta admit that I’m a little bummed that this isn’t a tighter interpretation of TPP (or, so far, any interpretation at all(?)), though that’s definitely a personal opinion. By the end of Chapter 1, while we do have an interesting story beginning to form, it strikes me as totally unrelated to the games themselves.

You do a great job of staying in Red’s detached, not-quite-human voice. We are definitely seeing the world through his warped perspective, and experiencing his strange thoughts pinging about within. There is something about this and the prologue that strikes me as ‘true crime,’ too, which is quite interesting.

Alternate Prologue

Yeah, I like the original prologue a lot more.

So, in the first prologue, there’s no overt mentioning of any of the Helixian stuff being real. And, in my opinion, that omission lends so much to the story. Red could really be worshipping some dark, higher power, or Red could be a psychopath. We even get little shreds/hints of doubt from Red here and there in Ch. 1, so who knows if Red is as committed as he says he is? Is he becoming disillusioned after all of the murder?

What I enjoy about stuff like this is the very slow trickle of information that either justifies or contradicts the narrator. I enjoy being the outside observer of this fucked-up psyche and seeing how they tick and where they’re coming from.

Unfortunately, with the Alt. prologue, we know that this is essentially a mad wizard trying to bring about the end of the world. I originally wrote a lot of other stuff while trying to pin down my exact thoughts, and I think I pinned it down:

When I read the Original Prologue into Chapter One, the style immediately gripped me as a psychological horror/thriller: we are seeing the world through Red’s eyes and through the filter of his reality. To me, the riveting part about stories like this is trying to discover why the narrator does what they do and thinks how they think; the more questions I have, the better. The fewer overt claims, the better.

Now, reading the Alt. Prologue, one of the biggest questions is immediately answered: “Is Helix real?” The answer is a resounding yes, through the display of an insanely useful bit of magic from Red.

In summary: my interpretation of how I thought this story was going to go was shattered by the reality presented to me in the Alt. Prologue. So, again, very very subjective finicky bullshit I’m on here.

We talked a little in the PMs about how you actually don’t want the reader to be questioning Red’s mental health/state (unless I totally misinterpreted something?), which to me is the single most riveting thing about this story so far (unraveling who Red is, what he wants, why he does the things he does).

Anyways, I feel like I’m rambling a bit here. The actual tl;dr: What I thought HH was, based on what I read, isn’t what HH is supposed to be (or will become). I had it pegged as a psychological horror/thriller about Red, but the focus (I assume?) is less on Red and more on Red vs. Johanna.

Second Pass: Ch. 1

So I picked a few bits and bobs here and there. I’ll tuck them away under a spoiler for you!

Your writing is stylistic and solid, and your prose is well-groomed for any potential errors. Red has a strong and consistent voice throughout. From a technical standpoint, I have very few things to say, since it’s in a great place!

From a subjective standpoint, I know that this really isn’t my cup of tea. I can share my thoughts, and do my best to communicate them politely and effectively, but there’s definitely a point where it could teeter into “I don’t like it because I don’t like it” territory and I’d really like to avoid it if possible. I'm sorry I couldn't be more helpful!

As expected, the omanyte lies in his arms. Big bright eyes, little tentacles. Patiently waiting as the nidoking gathers all the things needed for His day at school.

No, its!

So this quote is talking about a Nidoking taking an Omanyte to school. That idea alone raises so many questions about the world: Are the Nidoking and the Omanyte roomies with Red and Abe? There are schools for Pokemon? Why isn't the Nidoking going to school?

I'm not entirely sure if this is a little flavor thread you left yourself later, or a nod to prior works, but putting the startling realism of murder and dissection right next to the surrealism of a Pokemon getting ready for school is a bit jarring, I must admit.

He nods with a smile and hoists up his backpack, becoming the striking image of a bipedal bulbasaur.
What a waste of the late spring season. These days should have warm sunshine while the air is still cool and dry. Nature should be shaking its grogginess from March and April, fully awakening to blossom and celebrating life in all its forms - plants, animals, wild mon.
So there are a few moments here and there where we get what feels like normal, or almost normal, narratives out of Red. I can't decide whether or not I enjoy these human, humorous moments from him. It definitely grounds him a lot and makes him almost relatable in some ways. On the other hand, these moments are almost at odds with his apathy and power fantasies.

I'd killed seven people before this, but I never bumped into any relatives of theirs.
This was honestly very jarring. How big is Pallet? Does he only kill in Pallet? If not, where does he kill? Does he not watch the news? He does crosswords, I can assume he reads the paper, and yet this moment and his reactions to it strike me as if he's never before been faced with the consequences of his actions.

I hope this was helpful at all, and please do reach out if you wanna pick my brain! We already had a great PM convo about stuff earlier, but I'm down to keep chatting!
 

canisaries

you should've known the price of evil
Location
Stovokor
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. inkay-shirlee
  2. houndoom-elliot
  3. yamask-joanna
  4. shuppet
  5. deerling-andre
So, when I heard/read this was a horror-style take on Twitch Plays Pokémon, I was hype at the insanity of the prospect. I’ve had this idea of a ‘speed run novelization’ pinging around the back of my mind for quite some time and was eager to see how you would adapt TPP to the written word.

I gotta admit that I’m a little bummed that this isn’t a tighter interpretation of TPP (or, so far, any interpretation at all(?)), though that’s definitely a personal opinion. By the end of Chapter 1, while we do have an interesting story beginning to form, it strikes me as totally unrelated to the games themselves.
Oh! In that case, you might actually enjoy Seiren, a story that comes before Hunter, Haunted. It's practically goreless (hence its lower rating), much lighter in tone and Red's phobia of technology (due to PCs being basically death machines on his original journey) is a major plot element. Helix and Fonz get much more screentime and Bird Jesus (named Jess in the story) is around for a visit, too.

So this quote is talking about a Nidoking taking an Omanyte to school. That idea alone raises so many questions about the world: Are the Nidoking and the Omanyte roomies with Red and Abe? There are schools for Pokemon? Why isn't the Nidoking going to school?

I'm not entirely sure if this is a little flavor thread you left yourself later, or a nod to prior works, but putting the startling realism of murder and dissection right next to the surrealism of a Pokemon getting ready for school is a bit jarring, I must admit.

This is a leftover from Seiren, basically, and a general artifact of the TPP roots - Red's living situation is the same between both stories, but Seiren does much more to describe it. (And the Nidoking isn't going to school because he's already completed his necessary education for becoming a citizen.)

This was honestly very jarring. How big is Pallet? Does he only kill in Pallet? If not, where does he kill? Does he not watch the news? He does crosswords, I can assume he reads the paper, and yet this moment and his reactions to it strike me as if he's never before been faced with the consequences of his actions.
He has never physically met a relative of someone he's killed (and been aware of it) is what Red means here. He does watch the news and read the paper to some extent, but I'm actually not sure how much missing people are reported in the news and since it hasn't become super relevant yet I've shied away from addressing it.

He does not only kill in Pallet - actually, I don't think he's killed in Pallet at all. Joanna he killed in Viridian ("I almost ask why they're looking here and not in Viridian where she lived"), but her folks happened to live in Pallet. Pallet Town is not as small as in the games (three buildings lol), but it's small enough to be risky for Red to work in, so he takes to Viridian and sometimes further to do it. He transports the unconscious victim to his basement with a teleportation spell which works somewhat similarly to the disintegration circle he uses in the alternate prologue.

When I read the Original Prologue into Chapter One, the style immediately gripped me as a psychological horror/thriller: we are seeing the world through Red’s eyes and through the filter of his reality. To me, the riveting part about stories like this is trying to discover why the narrator does what they do and thinks how they think; the more questions I have, the better. The fewer overt claims, the better.

Now, reading the Alt. Prologue, one of the biggest questions is immediately answered: “Is Helix real?” The answer is a resounding yes, through the display of an insanely useful bit of magic from Red.

In summary: my interpretation of how I thought this story was going to go was shattered by the reality presented to me in the Alt. Prologue. So, again, very very subjective finicky bullshit I’m on here.

We talked a little in the PMs about how you actually don’t want the reader to be questioning Red’s mental health/state (unless I totally misinterpreted something?), which to me is the single most riveting thing about this story so far (unraveling who Red is, what he wants, why he does the things he does).

Anyways, I feel like I’m rambling a bit here. The actual tl;dr: What I thought HH was, based on what I read, isn’t what HH is supposed to be (or will become). I had it pegged as a psychological horror/thriller about Red, but the focus (I assume?) is less on Red and more on Red vs. Johanna.

Saving this part for last because I have the most to say about this: I did get across part of what I meant in the DMs, but it seems that I communicated the rest poorly. This story definitely is psychological and not a magic battle between a ghost and a dark wizard - it's just that the existence of HELIX was never intended to be ambiguous. The story and all the other stories in the series are built with the assumption that HE is real (and can offer spells and certain information to Red that would otherwise be inaccessible), so I couldn't make HIM not-real even if I wanted to. (Part of Red's character is also how much he's being manipulated by this external inhuman entity. The prequel oneshots HIM, Whelp and Metanoia go more into this and actually do have HELIX present.)

The reason why I jumped so hard on HELIX not being real is my strong dislike of the trope of "crazy in one way, crazy in all the ways". By this I mean when a character with one or more mental illnesses is given clear hallucinations and delusions which are unrelated to the established mental illnesses. I feel that it further deepens the divide between "sane" and "insane" people, othering people that suffer from mental illnesses as these weird unpredictable nutjobs whose opinions no longer count on anything. Of course it's possible for mentally ill people to hallucinate and for schizophrenics to have other comorbid illnesses (likely, even), but it always feels like a gross oversimplification to just point at a character and go "he's crazy so anything can happen". It also often feels inaccurate to how actual hallucinations and delusions manifest - schizophrenics can be aware that what they're experiencing is not real both during and after an episode. For a character that I want to be psychologically plausible, the "crazy in one way, crazy in all the ways" trope just feels very lazy and even offensive. As someone who's had a lot of mental health trouble and actually used this story to vent some of the experiences, the subject is kind of personal.

To get back on track, though, the story's focus is absolutely more on Red's character and how he thinks and feels than the "ooh how's he gonna beat the ghost" part. I don't want to spoil much in case you ever get a change of heart, but that trigger-happiness from the first chapter only gets worse and he struggles more and more to "act normal", and his definition of that isn't all that accurate, either.

Anyway: don't be mistaken, I very much liked your review! I very much appreciate those kind words about the prose, and you've also given me some pretty unique feedback, which is always valuable. I'll be glad to talk more about stuff in DMs if you're interested. Thanks for the review, and see you around!
 

Equitial

Ace Trainer
Pronouns
he/him
Partners
  1. espurr
  2. inkay
  3. woobat
  4. ralts
Review for Chapter 5

Okay, so I liked this chapter and especially found Red’s character fascinating, but I felt like the pacing was somewhat stretched in a couple places. Firstly, I feel like Red’s emotions jumped a bit too frequently in this chapter. In the beginning, Red had a scare moment with Joanna’s mask, but 1) something similar happened in the previous chapter and 2) he pretty quickly returns to exulting in his power and bloodlust and all that. I feel like the beginning of this chapter would have flowed better if he had just remained in bloodlust, without that little break. That way, the emotions aren’t so bumpy.

In a somewhat similar way, I also felt like the ending third of the chapter—after HE rejects Red—took a bit long. It’s hard for me to say what exactly could be trimmed, since I don’t know the long-term goals of this scene. But I feel like either 1) Red could remain dejected at the end of the chapter, therefore ending the chapter with a character change, or 2) certain parts of Red psyching himself back up could be removed, perhaps just focusing on one section in particular.

Besides my nitpicks on the pacing, CHAPTER GOOD.

The whole thought process Red has toward Michi leading up to her murder makes my skin crawl, it’s fucking creepy. By virtue of the genders and ages of Red and Michi, there’s kind of this, uh, possible alternate interpretation. But to me, that it’s not that makes it more compelling in a weird way? Red is coming at this from a completely different perspective, but the joy he takes in this, along with the certain fondness he has Michi, is just ahhhahhhaaahhhh. The emotions I felt while reading this section, combined with the fact that the murder was technically unnecessary, made me internally scream throughout. Which btw NO GODDAMMIT NOT MICHI.

I want Red to die horribly for killing Michi, but at the same time, I really liked his character here. During his vision of HIM, he touched on some deeper feelings he hasn’t really acknowledged. I found it fascinating, the hints at his deeper motivation and what he really wanted.

I’m going to… have HIM inside me, fully.

no besides that

Existence. My existence. I can become what I want. I can think and feel how I want. I can banish any pain, any dread, any sorrow. I can feel euphoria unimaginable by any mortal. And… and I will never have to die.

Anyway. What’s interesting is how by coming so close to his goals, Red lets down some walls comes the closest to what he truly feels. In a shocking plot twist, Red exaggerated persona of a predator among the sheep is actually a way to mask what he truly fears. He fears death and he fears pain, despite calling himself above all that. In this chapter, I was reminded of discussions I’ve had about how some people with depression feel superior because of it. They view themselves as seeing the “world as it truly is”, unlike most "normal" people. But at the same time, Red's life is lowkey filled with this existential dead—

I don't wanna go back. I don't wanna go back. I don't wanna go back to the fear.

He hates his life, but he’s unable to acknowledge that there’s something wrong with his brain that could potentially be helped, so instead he hides from his negative self-feeling with his unhealthy coping method (murder). However, is the murder doing anything for him either? He says it does—and he feels great in the moment—but it doesn't fix his existential dread. For example, when he thinks about how he killed Michi:

But now I'm an adult and I know that what I am and what the world is don't mesh. I can't go to school, I can't get a job - I learned that years ago, and what happened at the supermarket today undeniably only highlights that. So all I can do is wait. Spend each day sitting at home, slowly drowning in the lack of things to do.

Maybe I was right to kill Michi. Kill her before she became miserable like me

In a lot of his thinking during this chapter, he expressed more of a fear of death. However, then comes Michi and he is almost seeing it as a good thing. In a way, this is Red coming close to suicidal ideation. He doesn’t want to die—is afraid of it—but he also can’t stand living as he feels now. And what he’s done to cope with his mental illness only makes things worse--

I don't wanna go back. I don't wanna go back. I don't wanna go back to the fear. I don't wanna go back to the fear of all this being for nothing, that I've been tricked or that I'm insane, that I remember HIS words wrong, that there is no salvation and all I've done is throw away so much time from what precious little life I have --

All in all, I find Red’s character particularly fascinating in this chapter. I’m very excited to see where we go psychologically from here.

 

Umbramatic

The Ghost Lord
Location
The Yangverse
Pronouns
Any
Partners
  1. reshiram
Whoops, forgot to post this here! Here is a Smeargle swap of the scene I left off:
hunter_haunted_smeargle_swap.png
 

slamdunkrai

bing.com
Pronouns
they/them
Partners
  1. darkrai
  2. snom
Helix @ Red before the prologue:

Anyway! I've heard enough about this story that I thought I'd drop by and offer some thoughts on where I've read up to so far (which is to say, the original prologue and the first two chapters). First off, I know I'm not the first to comment on how vivid the description is of all the viscera on show in the prologue; in another life, maybe Red could've become an art critic. It's a striking introduction, both in terms of what we're seeing -- which is to say, blood, guts, ritual murder -- and the way we're seeing it. We're privy to Red's thoughts as he goes over the scene in methodical fashion, and he's overjoyed, bordering on vaguely horny, about what he's done. After all, the ascension is coming, so we're told, and that means he'll get to kill again as much as he likes. At the same time! There's some fascinating lines that clue us into some fascinating insights he has about himself. For example, I noted this line:

[...] Though I can't imagine these weak simian nails doing that much damage by themselves. HE must have brought some of HIS own strength along.
...and it's a neat touch that he both puts Helix on a pedestal while chiding his own, lesser form. His weak, simian nails. The wording suggests he views himself as less than human, I think (or at least, less than the form he needs to take?). And that's cool! It's a good way to make a bloodlusting murderer seem relatable.

The next two chapters are less fun, I think, but I still liked them a decent amount. I think the biggest problem I've had with this so far was that it was a little jarring to go from the very clearly important note that the prologue ends on (namely, the reveal that he knows who this was, and also her name) to Red being woken up and going about his routine. On the one hand, this frames what Red did as a dream (which, y'know, it wasn't I don't think, but that's a neat framing nevertheless); on the other, it had this odd effect tonally where things just kinda become less exciting immediately and we're taken out of things just a bit. It took some getting used to. I don't think this is a huge deal though; I'm not really sure how else I'd go about this and it seems to have been a conscious decision. Anyway! What I did like a lot was the atmosphere of malaise that lingered over proceedings when chapter one got going, from the little conversation with Abe onwards -- seething contempt for everyone around, resisting the urge to kill people at the grocery store, having to drag yourself to a doctor's appointment later. It feels like a dissociative nightmare dialed up to the absolute extreme. And it's a little bit funny, I think, but it's also a good way to build on the tone set up in the prologue. The sentiment of Red feeling not quite human is also made explicit in this chapter. Of course, there's the yamask reveal at the end too, which I thought was done well.

I also thought chapter two was neat! Don't think I've much to say about this one beyond what's already been said. Michi is an endearing parallel to Red, it was fun seeing him taking an L here, the inner monologue builds on everything he's struggling with in himself and his inability to express it (not for any fault of his own, of course! No, in society people will get mad at you for killing), and then oh shit there's his appointment! It's not the most substantive chapter, but it does move the story along pretty well, and there's already a rising tension after that catharsis of an opener.

Anyway. tl;dr good stuff! I'm endeared by the vile and awful man who kills people and worships the Helix. Someone else has probably said this before but what the hell, Red gives me the same vibes as this song. I'll be sure to report back to you as I progress with this, but this is certainly unique, and the way things have kicked off leaves me wanting to know what happens next. Keep it up, and cheers for writing this! :>
 

canisaries

you should've known the price of evil
Location
Stovokor
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. inkay-shirlee
  2. houndoom-elliot
  3. yamask-joanna
  4. shuppet
  5. deerling-andre
Heyyy! Thanks for the review! What a nice surprise.

...and it's a neat touch that he both puts Helix on a pedestal while chiding his own, lesser form. His weak, simian nails. The wording suggests he views himself as less than human, I think (or at least, less than the form he needs to take?). And that's cool! It's a good way to make a bloodlusting murderer seem relatable.
This is an interesting interpretation, but if I understood right, it's not really what I was going for? It's not really insecurity as it is frustration over the human form being as "weak" as it is, when he feels like he deserves something more powerful. He doesn't feel human, but he's proud of that fact.

The next two chapters are less fun, I think, but I still liked them a decent amount. I think the biggest problem I've had with this so far was that it was a little jarring to go from the very clearly important note that the prologue ends on (namely, the reveal that he knows who this was, and also her name) to Red being woken up and going about his routine. On the one hand, this frames what Red did as a dream (which, y'know, it wasn't I don't think, but that's a neat framing nevertheless); on the other, it had this odd effect tonally where things just kinda become less exciting immediately and we're taken out of things just a bit. It took some getting used to. I don't think this is a huge deal though; I'm not really sure how else I'd go about this and it seems to have been a conscious decision. Anyway! What I did like a lot was the atmosphere of malaise that lingered over proceedings when chapter one got going, from the little conversation with Abe onwards -- seething contempt for everyone around, resisting the urge to kill people at the grocery store, having to drag yourself to a doctor's appointment later. It feels like a dissociative nightmare dialed up to the absolute extreme. And it's a little bit funny, I think, but it's also a good way to build on the tone set up in the prologue. The sentiment of Red feeling not quite human is also made explicit in this chapter. Of course, there's the yamask reveal at the end too, which I thought was done well.
It is indeed a conscious choice - the prologue shows Red in his element with all his bloodlust and pride, while the first chapter shows how melancholic his actual everyday life is and how he's very much not the epic badass he feels he is at all and rather a highschool dropout that freaks out over cans of shrimp.

Very glad you've enjoyed it so far! Hope you'll like what's to come.
 

Umbramatic

The Ghost Lord
Location
The Yangverse
Pronouns
Any
Partners
  1. reshiram
Here for Catnip on Chapter 2!

Red has found himself in quite a predicament huh? His reactions to everything and his machinations are fun to read, especially in relation to Michi.

Speaking of Michi is great. I love how she's already done with Red's shit and can and will stab him, which just brings to mind this meme:

1636918319234.png

Also she has Aura powers? :O Very very interested in how this develops with her. Can she just read people's souls or is there more to it?

Poor Johnna. She clearly doesn't remember much, possibly for the better, for now. Her seeming to form a budding relationship with Michi is cute.

I like how Red thinks he's got a master plan and it's all figured out but then a twelve year old tries to stab him and Abe cockblocks his backup plan. In general Red is the type of character who is just hilarious to see suffer. I presume that's intentional otherwise I'll feel bad.

But I'm looking forward to seeing how he (tries) to get out of this one.
 
Chapter Nine - The Mareep

canisaries

you should've known the price of evil
Location
Stovokor
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. inkay-shirlee
  2. houndoom-elliot
  3. yamask-joanna
  4. shuppet
  5. deerling-andre
it took four months to revise a chapter again. wahoooooo. well, let's get to the point. this is the last chapter of act 2! and boy do things happen. read on to find out what.

rated mature for extreme psychological distress, fear of death, body horror, blood and generally disturbing imagery. special warning for arachnophobia like last time, though this time it's a lot stronger.

alright, enjoy!

---

CHAPTER NINE
The Mareep


---​

"No!"

I stomp the ball of my shoe onto the black speck on the floor. I twist it, twist it to tear the bastard apart. No more spiders. No more, please. Let this be the last one.

Slowly, shaking, I lift my foot and move it off to reveal bits of black in a yellow-brown smear. It's dead. Okay. It's dead, just as it's supposed to be. Do not come back to life, you hear me? Stay dead. Stay.

It's staying dead.

I can finally breathe again. In and out and in and out. Alright. Now to get out of here. But I don't know where I am. I think I should backtrack my steps to the psych's door, hope like hell she won't be there to question me any more, and take the right turn this time. I was supposed to go right. I don't know why I didn't. I guess I wanted to get away so badly that direction didn't matter.

I turn around to --

The hallway is black.

The hallway is black with spiders.

The floor, the walls, the ceiling. A continuous coating of spiders, millions of spiders, crawling across each other, digging in and out of the swarm, dangling by invisible strands of web.

The mass crackles, rustles, as countless chitinous limbs brush and rub against each other.

There is no end to them. No white at the end of the tunnel. Only an infinite, all-consuming sea of spiders.

And it’s coming towards me.

In the blink of an eye, with haunting clarity, I feel all complex thought slip away - and then I'm already running.

Step follows step. Turn follows turn. Featureless hallway follows another, but the spiders never get quieter. I glance back and they’re no further from me than they were before. Maybe even less.

I try to run faster, but I can’t. This is as fast as I can go. And I don’t think I can even keep this pace much longer - lactic acid burns my legs and dry air scrapes my lungs.

I take another turn -- fuck. I stumble to a halt before I hit the opposing wall. A dead end. No doors, no windows, nothing. No way out.

I turn around to face the spider sea. It slows down, probably to savor my horror as I would with prey of my own. There’s nothing to do. There’s nothing to do but watch and wait for them to reach me and crawl all over me and --

Then what would they do? Would they eat me? There’s no way they could. I’m simply too big. I know it’s a big swarm, but --

Why is it a big swarm?

Spiders don’t move in swarms. They’re lone hunters. And they don’t go after humans, they fear them. With good reason, too. It’s effortlessly easy for a human to squish a spider. Why would all these spiders ignore that and run to their deaths? It doesn’t make sense.

And that’s why... it isn’t real.

Of course. It’s just another hallucination. I'm still sick, I just happened to feel a bit better today. This is as fake as the blood at the supermarket. I just have to… understand that. No matter how many spiders I see or hear or soon feel on my body, they aren’t real. There’s no danger and I don’t have to be afraid. And even if they were real, I wouldn’t have to be afraid - like said, they’re just spiders, and they can’t bring any serious harm to a human like me. Maybe somewhere else, they could, but there are no spiders in Kanto that could give you anything worse than a rash.

So it’s clear. I don’t have to be afraid.

...I shouldn’t be afraid.

I shouldn’t be afraid of something that poses no danger whatsoever to me.

I shouldn’t be cowering like prey at the sight of creatures thousands of times smaller than me.

I shouldn’t let a delusion control the way I think and act!

The spiders draw nearer, only a meter away now. I step back. No! You have to stay where you are. Don’t give in to that irrational emotion. You’re better than that. The Bringer is better than that.

Three quarters of a meter. I take another step back. Disgusting. Disgusting. You’re a coward. You’re weak. You’re not fit to be the Bringer. The next time you meet HIM, HE will see this in your memories and HE will reject you.

Half a meter. My foot lifts off the ground, but I stamp it back down. No. I’m stronger. My willpower, my resolve, my loyalty to HIM, they’re stronger. There is nothing in this world more important than HIM.

I hear the spiders above me. I don’t look up - in fact, I close my eyes. Focus. I shudder, but keep my footing. I will persevere.

The first scraping I feel at the tip of my shoe makes me flinch, but I keep my stance. The scraping advances, launching the same response time and time again, but I don't move. I'm doing it. Even though they're surrounding my foot and climbing to my ankles and -- and slipping under my pantleg and crawling up my shins. I just harden my skin. They can't do anything. They can't hurt me.

They reach the underside of my knees. Now I'm fighting against my reflexes, too. Still, I stand my ground. They're coming up, up, up, soon they'll be in my fucking crotch, oh fuck, but I gotta bear that too…

Think of HIM. Just think of HIM. Think of the prize that awaits you. Think of the terror if you don't succeed. The consequences. No ascension. No immortality. Death.

Or, no, no, don't think about death, that's gonna make you more stressed. Think about ascension. The body you'll have. It won't feel anything you don't want it to feel. You can make it feel only bliss, you can make it beautiful beyond comprehension, deadlier than any weapon. You don't even have to stay in a body - you can detach yourself and exist independent of anything material. Thinking without a brain, like HIM. No pain can reach you there, no itch, no spiders in places they really shouldn't be, no overwhelming urge to scratch and swipe them off, no indescribable discomfort, no violation of your bodily rights, no armada of little legs creeping up your hips, waist, chest, neck -- they're so fast now, they --

A scream. Collapsing on floor. Fingers scratching everywhere. Convulsing. Eyes open. No spiders.

Nothing crawling on the skin. Scratching slowly ends.

No bristling of little legs. Only wheezing lungs.

No sea of black. Just clean white.

Did… Did I…

No. No, it wasn’t me. I never gave in. I never lost control, someone else pushed me down!

But there's no one else here. No one else it could have been.

And replaying it all back, I remember kneeling before the fall. I remember raising my hands, raising them to my arms and face, scratching. I remember screaming. I remember the exact moment HE stopped existing to me.

No. I…

I failed?

I failed.

I'm not fit for HIM.

I'm not…

I cover my mouth. Shallow, terrified breaths echo back.

I'm not fit for HIM. HE won't make me the Bringer. I won't ascend. I won't be immortal. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to --

A stinging in my lungs. Is it happening now? Did my body fail me? Am I going to be dead, is my life going to be over? Am I going to lose my thought, my comprehension, my ability to process what I'm experiencing? Will I experience eternal unfiltered existence in nothing, be a soul without a vessel to make sense of all that comes or rather doesn't?

Wait. No. I think I'm hyperventilating, I think that's what that stinging is. I should breathe more slowly, more deeply.

But what does that matter? Sooner or later, I'm going to die anyway. Living is just putting off the inevitable. Finite pleasure is nothing against infinite pain. And what pleasure would there even be? What pleasure have you had in the past… ever that would justify the constant everyday emptiness in your heart and the dread scratching the back of your brain each time you make the mistake of sinking deeper into your thoughts?

The sting is getting worse. I force myself to inhale longer, exhale longer - it's like choking at first, but I know it will become better. If I can make things better, I should, no matter how pointless it is in the long run.

Pointless. Breathing gets harder again. How am I supposed to stay calm and in control with this guillotine hanging above my neck?

Now they're sobs. Tears are leaking out of my eyes. I'm crying, crying like a little brat. But it's not like there's much of a difference. I've just found out that I'm going to die and I haven't yet found the way to pretend to myself that I won't. Of course I'm crying. Of course I'm panicking. I'm seeing the cold truth of life. I'm seeing how bad things really are, and there is no comfort. There's nothing I can do but cry.



“Sir?”

Someone spoke. I quiet down. I guess I’d been quieter for a while. I don’t remember. I don’t remember how long I’ve lain here or how long ago I stopped sobbing.

“Hey, you there! Are you alright?”

It’s coming from behind me. There are steps approaching from the same direction. I think he’s talking to me.

A part of me says there’s no point in answering and another disagrees. I think things will only get more complicated if I don’t answer, so I better.

“Yes,” I say. My throat feels sore. I’m thirsty. I’m tired. I should go home. There I can drink freely and rest without being bothered.

I get up, first to my knees and then to my feet. I wipe the salt from my eyes and turn to the voice.

It's a man. Darker-skinned. Expression of worry and confusion. Casual clothing. Though I guess they all had casual clothing. I can't know if he works here or not.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

"Yes," I repeat. "I just… need to go home."

"Are you sure you can get there?"

I pause. How do I get home again?

Right. The bus. Abe gave me the money again. I'm supposed to take the bus.

"Yeah," I answer. Speech is becoming more natural again.

"Do you know the way out?"

I pause again. I don't. I have no idea where in the building I am. But he does.

I build the sentence that expresses my request and speak it. "Can you show me?"

He nods. "This way."

I walk up to him with the gait of a living corpse, and he begins to lead me through the corridors. Part of me flinches with each turn, still expecting to find more spiders, but gradually I come to internalize how none of it was real. Not that this feels very real, either.

Eventually, we arrive at a stairway, though I don't think it's the one I came from. It seems more like a fire escape. But as long as it gets me out of here, which the green sign above suggests, it's perfectly fine with me.

The man still sticks with me, though, leading me down the stairs while periodically glancing back to see that I'm still there. Like a mother swanna checking all her ducklett are still following. But I don't mind. I think I like it. As long as he's guiding me, I don't have to think for myself.

Unfortunately, though, the stairs soon run out, and we arrive at a short hallway leading to a windowed door. The man escorts me even there, but once he opens the door, it seems our time together has come to an end.

"Are you gonna be fine from here?" he still asks, but if I said no, I think he'd call for some other help.

I think I'm gonna be fine, anyway. Well, in terms of getting home. Mentally… I don't think I'll ever be fine again.

I convince him that I can take it from here. I even thank him. He nods and watches me take the last steps through the door.

"Take care," he says, and leaves the way we came.

Once he's gone, I turn away from the building and take in my new surroundings.

It's a small parking lot. Yeah, that makes sense, employees need to park their cars, and some patients, too, if they have their life together enough to be able to drive.

No people, though. The only life I can immediately see seems to be the grass and young birch trees planted in the space between rows. The trees' leaves flutter in the soft wind, reflecting the sunlight falling from the mostly-clear sky. I know for a fact that I've seen it thousands of times before, but somehow in this moment, it feels brand new.

It's like there is no background noise. Everything I hear - the wind, the rustling of the leaves, the traffic of the town - feel like they're distinct, purposeful noises on top of complete silence.

It feels unreal, but it's the opposite. This is true reality. The reality in which people's lives end, and mine is no exception.

What prolonged psychosis made me think any different? HE promised me eternal life, and I still have no doubts about HIS ability to grant it, but in hindsight, it's obvious I was never deserving of it. I couldn't even finish high school. I couldn't bear just three years of idiots. And my fears… spiders and computers. Things that can't hurt me in any way. It's laughable. And lastly…

The one thing I had left to do, the final step, and I couldn't do it. Weeks of trying, no progress. The feelings would not go away. The obsession. The delusion. The exception to the rule. The fatal mistake. Him.

Even now, I can't hate Him. I can't blame Him. I just see His eyes and His arms and I'm declawed. The hands that would kill can only embrace. The predator is gone.

And that proves the predator is not me.

So, what now? I look ahead and all I see is death. The only moment that matters. Anything prior is only waiting. Dreading. Watching the countdown of the clock. Knowing there's no way out. There's no way out, the abyss will come. Life will be taken away. Sight, sound, touch, thought and understanding. Nothing but raw existence and the utter inability to -- it's coming. It's coming, all the time, every second, every moment, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die --

Sharp air scratches my throat. I'm breathing very hard. I'm… panicking, panicking again. I just want to curl into a ball and -- but what will that do, I'm helpless --

The first sobs bring with them shame. Wounding of the pride. I know it's all meaningless now, but the instinct is right in that this isn't the best place for this. I should go… right. I was already going home. I should focus on doing that for now. At home, I can have this breakdown in peace.

I wipe away the moisture in my eyes and sniff back the thinning snot. Hoping it isn't too obvious that I've cried, I navigate to the front of the building and walk into the shelter of the bus stop. Through its dirty glass wall, I stare at the end of the street and stand motionless in wait.

Car after car emerges, approaches and passes by. After some dozen, a longer vehicle appears. I squint until its number becomes legible. 20. That's the one.

I raise my hand. The bus answers with its blinker, and I tuck that hand in my pocket. I realize how this process has become automatic in my mind and no longer requires conscious thought to execute. Something about that is a bit comforting - despite this world-shattering realization, I can still perform everyday functions. I'm not utterly helpless.

The feeling strengthens as I manage to enter the bus and pay for my ticket like any other time, but the knowledge of death still looming above deflates any optimism that could arise. As there are no free seats, I grab onto a pole and stay standing, and the bus nudges into motion.

With a blank mind, I watch the numerous buildings and trees go by and listen to the hum of the machinery underneath. Its pitch changes with the speed, becoming the lowest whenever the bus stops to pick up or let out some other passengers.

There are men, there are women, there are old people, there are children, there are Tohjoans and people of other ancestries - but really, they're all the same. Human beings going about their daily lives, unbothered by the fact they're guaranteed to die one day.

I still don't understand. How? How do they do it? Are they in such denial? Do they simply not understand it? Or do they all put their hopes in there being an afterlife?

I look back at the windowed doors in front of me - this time for my reflection rather than the view outside. It's too faint to tell if my face still shows signs of having cried. My expression is blank, even soulless. To anyone else, I'd be just another passenger, another human.

But when I see that face, I know there is no human underneath. There is a being that kills humans and eats their flesh. A being to whom a gutted corpse is a sight of irresistible beauty. A being that lusts to hurt, to eviscerate, to consume. Whose mouth waters at these words alone.

And yet, that being cowers away from tiny, eight-legged creatures and computer screens. All its wrath fizzles away when it sees a little omanyte. It simply can’t seem to brush away its outdated emotions, wrestling with its unreasonable anger and fear on a daily basis.

It’s too daring to be prey and too frightened to be predator. What is it, then?

What am I?

Familiar sights beyond the window interrupt my thoughts. My stop is coming soon. I press the stop button, and soon enough, the bus drops me off.

I stand in silence as it closes its doors behind me and drives away. The smell of its exhaust fumes makes my nose wrinkle, but the breeze soon clears the air.

Well. Back to walking.

As I head homeward, the question of what I'll do once there burns harder and harder. Well, I guess there are a couple things I know I'll be doing. I need to break this all to HIM, for one. I should tell HIM everything, thank HIM for all that HE has given me and hope HE takes it well. I should start working on the plan to bring all those Helixian items back to the cave HE revealed to me. I could bring that Helixian textbook I was working on, too, just so that the next guy can have it a bit easier. And it isn't smart for me to keep proof. I guess that also means… throwing away the tongues. Well, it makes sense. A failure deserves no trophies.

I suppose I shouldn't go killing any more people, either.

My step falters. That's… a sad thought. If I knew my latest murder would be my last, I really would've -- no, wait. I wasn't even there for it. HE was the one that really killed her.

Such a cruel twist of fate. One day I think my ascension couldn’t be more confirmed… and a few weeks later, I realize it was never mine to begin with.

My throat constricts and my eyes moisten again, but no, no, I don’t want to cry. I’m just too tired. I just want to go home.

I pocket my hands and continue walking.

A shadow slides over the street. I look up to see thick, gray clouds gathering. What, is it going to rain now, too?

A tap on my shoulder answers that question. With a sigh, I pull my hood over my head and pick up my pace.

The roofs of the surrounding buildings soon begin clattering. The asphalt gains dark spot after dark spot. But they look… strange. Rust-colored. It’s almost like...

I raise a hand, palm up.

A splat of vivid red appears.

I look up. The skies have turned a dark red. I look around. No people, no cars. No sounds but the tapping of the rain.

Is this another hallucination? Blood rain? Blood rain feels familiar. Where do I know that fr…

Oh, no.

Oh, Gods.

On the hour of HIS arrival
these signs shall be seen across the land.
Predators and prey alike shall witness:
The sun shall cower,
The sky shall rain blood,
The earth shall roar

The ground rumbles, and the asphalt splits open right in front of me, forming a deep gash in the earth. I jump to the right before the expanding crack reaches me.

No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening. This is the worst thing that could possibly happen. The probability of something going this wrong is zero.

And the trees shall bow to HIM.

Rustle, crackle, snap, snap. The birches growing along the opposite sidewalk contort, their bark bulging and splitting open as the trunks bend in sharp angles. The bright green leaves crumple up and dim into taupe as the branches twist to touch the ground. All the other trees around seem to share the same fate.

Dread shall fill the hearts of the prey, but the predators shall rejoice.

I’m not rejoicing. I’m not rejoicing! I’m terrified! This is not how this was supposed to go!

From the body of HIS Bringer,
HE shall rise.
HE shall free HIS children,
shatter the shackles of their imperfect bodies
and create their vessels anew.
The Helixian Kingdom will rise again,
its reign now eternal,
on the day of HIS coming,
the day of Ascension.

Prophecies 4
The Day of Ascension

The earthquake surges, throwing me onto the bloodstained ground. Beyond the buildings, beyond the horizon, something rises, something gargantuan and black as coal.

A discordant screech splits the air, a noise my very organs wince at. As soon as it ends, other screams begin - screams of humans. Screams of prey.

The quake calms just a bit, but it’s enough for me to dare move again. I scramble my way to the nearest cover, a bunch of mangled trees. I can’t let myself be seen. Shrieks still sounding all around me, I peek at the giant through the trees’ branches.

Height is hard to estimate at this distance, but it has to be at least thirty meters tall. The red mist around it obscures some detail, but its silhouette shows a humanoid torso on top of… well, I can’t really see the lower body, but it seems serpentine given the stance and the tail whipping the air behind the giant’s back. Its head looks wormlike, ending in a clump of tentacles. Considering the giant seems to be picking up one human after another and dropping them into its head - shortly after which the scream is silenced - it feels safe to assume there is a mouth somewhere in there.

I can’t look anymore. I crouch and bury my face in my hands, ignoring the blood smeared onto my skin. Sooner or later, I’m going to see the same fate as those people. Hiding won’t help. HE won't leave a single mareep unbutchered.

But, maybe… maybe if I can bring HIM the scriptures, HIS old stony home… maybe HE will spare me! I’ve been so useful, surely HE will s-spare me…

This is desperate, this is pathetic, but it's the only way I may be able to survive, so I have to give it a shot. I have to get home. Without HIM spotting me on the way there.

As another gut-shaking screech echoes throughout the city, I get up on my feet and begin to creep onward. Just keep going, just keep going. There’s not that much left to go.

The pounding or the rain and the screams of the giant’s victims are the only sounds I get to hear as I make my way closer and closer to my home street. The views I once thought safe and comfy have been twisted into nightmarish reflections of their past selves. Cracks and fissures riddle the earth, forcing me to delegate part of my precious attention from watching the giant to watching my step. All grass has wilted, and even the blood-soaked houses look like they’ve been abandoned for decades. The smell of something burning lingers in the air.

This really is the apocalypse. This is what I'd been waiting for all this time. This was the ultimate reward. And here I am, absolutely terrified. Shaking like a pichu, scuttling about like a rattata. I’ve never, never felt this… helpless.

Lungs burning and clothes utterly drenched in blood, I finally arrive at my home street. I hate how open it has to be. I keep to the right side of the street, sprinting from the cover of one house to another, eyes pinned to the giant in the distance each time. It looks like it’s too preoccupied to notice me. Maybe it doesn’t even care. Maybe I’m just another mareep among the others to HIM now. Maybe HE won't even acknowledge the fossil in my hands when I try to speak to HIM…

But I have to believe HE will. I have to believe in this plan. It's the only thing I can do.

At long last, my home comes to view. Only a few more houses --

Wait. The giant. It's… gone?

It was there just a few seconds ago. It couldn't have moved --

"HIGH PRIEST."

Oh Gods. Oh Gods, oh Gods, oh Gods.

"FACE ME."

One instinct has frozen me in place while another screams at me to flee, but a third demands I turn around.

I don’t want to. I don’t want to. I’m so afraid. But HE has given me an order, and as HIS servant, HIS high priest, I simply must obey.

With stiff joints and slow steps, I turn around, preparing myself for HIS searing stare.

But no one could possibly be prepared.

Two eyes amidst countless squirming tendrils. Burning red sclerae. Piercing yellow irides. Pupils like pinpricks, windows to the blackest void. In my sight, they're no larger than the fist of an out-extended hand, and yet it feels like they’re the only thing I see.

”WHAT AN ENTERTAINING SIGHT,” HE says. The monstrous voice reverberates in my skull, rattling my very brain. “ONCE BRINGER-TO-BE, NOW SCUTTLING RODENT.”

I’m frozen. I can’t even breathe. What do I do? What do I --

Of course! I-I’m still HIS servant, so I should act like it!

I drop to my hands and knees so fast that they’re sure to bruise - if I live that long. I bow my head as far down as my body allows.

“F-forgive me!” I yell. “Forgive me, my lord, I-I-I was simply so afraid, afraid of YOUR might that I ran without thinking --”

HE laughs. I gag on my words. HE is laughing. Every exhalation is a punch to the chest. HE has never laughed at me before. HE has never --

“YOU STILL THINK YOUR SERVITUDE MATTERS TO ME?”

HE laughs again, then --

A deafening thud shakes the earth. I fall on my back and sit up - HE has struck HIS fist down on the street, which has naturally shattered the asphalt caught underneath.

“WAKE FROM THIS DREAM OF YOURS AND SEE THINGS AS THEY ARE. YOU HAVE BEEN REPLACED.”

Replaced? Right, yes, in order for HIM to ascend, there has to have been someone that acted as Bringer. But who? HE was in my basement. No one else knew about that room. Well, knew that anyone had the key and used it. So who could have been HIS Bringer? No one I live with is anywhere near a predator. Did someone just break in to steal valuables and somehow found his way to the room? Was he so perfect a predator that HE noticed him and guided him there? Or am I… am I really just so… easily replaced?

HE laughs again. I wish HE didn’t. No noise I’ve ever heard in my life has caused me this much pain.

“YOU WISH TO KNOW WHO HAS TAKEN YOUR PLACE,” HE says, a smile in HIS voice. “I WILL SHOW YOU, LITTLE LAMB. YOU ARE SURE TO RECOGNIZE HER.”

Her?

HE brings HIS hands - human-like, with long, golden claws - to HIS head, grabs the edges of the cluster of tentacles and pulls it back like a hood, revealing…

Her.

The golden mask grins with sharp teeth and beastlike features, but the likeness is indisputable.

Joanna.

“CORRECT, HIGH PRIEST.”

But… h-how? The Bringer must be human! He can’t be a ghost, and he can’t be a she, either! And she’s not even alive anymore! Not as a human, not as a ghost - I made her disappear!

HE laughs again. As if this was all so trivial.

“YOU WERE OUTWITTED,” HE says. “HAD YOU BEEN ANY SHARPER, YOU MAY HAVE REALIZED THE GHOST HAD ESCAPED YOU.”

But --

“SHE THEN DISCOVERED ME, AND I DISCOVERED HER - HER HATRED, HER BITTERNESS, HER CRUELTY. I WILLED HER AS MY BRINGER AND FOUND AN ALTERNATIVE PATH TO ASCENSION.”

Could it really be…

“WHILE YOU...”

HE leans forward, the metal of HIS face twisting into an expression of fury. The instinct of a prey animal jerks me back in terror.

“ALL THIS TIME, YOU HAVE BEEN WEAK. EVERY DAY YOU HAVE SPENT EITHER IDLING AT HOME OR WANDERING THE STREETS WITHOUT AIM. YOU HAVE FEARED AND LOVED THINGS OTHER THAN YOUR GOD, AND STILL YOU EXPECT TO BE REWARDED?”

A razor-sharp hiss shoots through HIS teeth, spraying me with droplets of blood-mixed saliva.

“PUNISHMENT IS WHAT YOU DESERVE.”

Punishment? No, oh Gods, no, not punishment. I-I can’t even begin to imagine what punishment would be like in the apocalypse if simply being alive is hell. My eyes flick around HIS body in search of the parts that HE might use. Will HE grind me into paste with those jaws? Will HE crush me like a bug with those hands? Will HE trample me with the many tubular legs of HIS worm-like hindbody? Will HE skewer me on the spearlike spikes on HIS back? Will HE ensnare me with the tentacles of HIS head, back or tail and use a few others to tear me limb from limb?

No, no, you idiot! Don’t give HIM ideas! Instead… just… beg! Just beg! There’s nothing else you can do!

I throw myself onto the bloody street again. "No, my lord, please! Forgive me! Forgive my cowardice! Please accept me as a predator!"

"SILENCE, VERMIN!"

Another shockwave startles me back upright on my knees. HE struck HIS fist down again.

“YOU DO NOT DESERVE TO FEAST ALONGSIDE ME AND MY CHILDREN!”

HIS maw opens wide for an earth-shaking roar, exposing HIS throat and the horrors within. A sea of spikes lines the insides of HIS gullet, largely stained red with some torn human body parts still stuck to it here and there. There’s no doubt that the people those belonged to all experienced one of the worst ways to die.

“YOU SHALL BE DEVOURED, JUST LIKE ALL OTHER PREY.”

“No, please...” I fall to my hands. My voice is a whine, a sob. But I know it won’t affect HIM. Predators don’t know pity, less does their god. “I-I trained my body for YOU! YOU know I’d make for an excellent --”

“YOUR PITIFUL BODY IS NO DIFFERENT FROM A BIRD-PECKED CARCASS TO ME!”

But I… I trained every day. I ate only the right things. I… I know I cut it a few times, but that was for discipline...

HE raises HIS head. “I HAVE SPOKEN ENOUGH.”

No, no, I can’t let this conversation end. I can’t let HIM…

But it’s not up to me, is it? When HE decides something must happen, it will - especially now. My fate’s already sealed. I’m gonna die, and not just die. HE is sure to make it excruciatingly painful.

HE… why am I still giving HIM this honor in my mind? Why do I hold HIM in such high regard? I know my death isn’t fair. I know this is bullshit. I have every right to be pissed off. I have every right to reject HIM.

But as much as my gut wants to get up on my feet and face my death with pride, I can’t. I know my shaking legs wouldn’t support me, and I know that any resistance will only motivate HIM to kill me slower.

There’s nothing to do but submit. Die like the coward I am.

HE chuckles. I take back what I said about HIS regular laughter. This is a thousand times worse.

“YOU EXPECT TO DIE BY MY HAND, HIGH PRIEST?”

What does that mean…? What the hell does that mean?

“YOU ARE NOT WORTH THAT HONOR.”

I notice motion in the fog at HIS feet. Vaguely humanoid forms, somewhat taller than me, appear behind the veil.

“YOU WILL DIE THE SAME AS THE OTHER MAREEP.”

The creatures emerge from the haze. They resemble some kind of human-canine hybrids with glowing, yellow eyes and skin like that of burn victims. They bare their sharp teeth in grins of savage elation. They are the predators, and it’s safe to say that they’re rejoicing.

A stray gleam beside one of them catches my eye. The monster’s clawed hand clutches a knife. One that looks suspiciously similar to mine.

I feel my flank and realize my scabbard isn’t there. When did I…

When I entered the clinic. And I forgot to get it back before I left. But how did…

I take a closer look at the knife-bearer’s face. It’s the receptionist.

That fucking bastard.

“MY HOUNDOOM ARE READY TO ATTACK AT MY COMMAND,” HE says, drawing my attention back to HIM - and making me realize I was still a lot happier looking at anything else. “BUT BEFORE I LET THEM LOOSE, THERE IS ONE LAST ADJUSTMENT TO MAKE.”

What?

My feet hurt. Why do my feet hurt? They’re aching, cramping… itching? Something weird is happening to the toes… ow, ow, it’s getting worse by the second! They’re changing shape, swelling somehow, squeezing up against the insides of my shoes, I gotta get those off --

Just in time, they begin to decay on their own, blackening, as if burning without heat or light. As soon as they become weak enough, my lengthening feet rip them apart, and whatever’s left quickly falls off, revealing what’s inside.

Mareep hooves. Black-wooled.

Something coils around my chest too fast to resist. Black, shining, a hint of wetness - one of HIS tendrils.

It yanks my trembling body off the ground, then places me onto my new feet. As HE slowly lets go, I’m made to figure out how to balance with them. Somehow, I manage, but… this hurts. This simply hurts.

I try to cry out one last time for HIM to spare me, but the only thing that comes out is… a bleat.

“THERE.” HIS grin widens even further - I didn’t think that was possible - and HE stands upright to HIS full height. HE is far, far too big.

“NOW RUN!” HE roars. “RUN, MAREEP, RUN!”

The creatures at HIS feet bark and leap forward. Fuck!

I turn around, stumbling, and somehow manage to start running. But where am I gonna go? The house? Sure, whatever! Fuck it! It's not gonna hold off these hell-beasts for any longer than a few seconds, but maybe, just maybe, those few seconds will help somehow.

My running speed is taking me by surprise though - it feels a lot faster than my usual top speed. Maybe these mareep-feet were an enhancement rather than a handicap. Did HE choose to do that to make the chase more fair and therefore more interesting? Just like I gave Michi a head start… the irony is not lost on me.

I'm almost at the house now. I shove my hand in my pocket and dig out the key, clutching it with my life. Will I be able to make the turn with this speed, though? Not to mention the street's still slippery from all the blood. I have to slow down, even if it goes against every primal instinct in my brain…

I manage to wrangle control over my body from them enough for a small deceleration, though it plunges my heart into overdrive and threatens to eject my entire stomach through my mouth from stress alone. I reach the house and make the fateful turn - come on, please, yes, I made it! Though this speed is still --

Realizing I won't be able to stop in time, I simply leap onto the front door and brace for impact.

Crash. Fucking hell! But there's no time to process the pain. I grab the handle and shove the key in the lock. It opens, the door gives way, I slip through, I slam it shut - or I hope so, at least, but there's no time to check - and run a few steps deeper in the house and...

Wait. What the hell do I do now?

"Wh-what's going on?"

I turn to the living room. Abe stares at me from the couch, eyes wide in alarm.

The question is a valid one for this scenario, but the way he said it, the way he's just sitting on the couch - he doesn't know what's going outside. How the fuck doesn't he know? No one could fail to notice the fucking earthquakes and screaming! Is he that oblivious?

"Look outside!" I snap at him, and he seems surprised, even offended - fucking moron, you're not gonna last a minute in this new world…

At least he’s listening. He’s gotten up and hurried to the window. I look to it myself to see what he sees --

What?

“...I don’t see anything,” Abe says, still on edge. The crazy thing is that I have little reason to doubt him.

Instead of the hellscape I was running through just moments ago, the view through the window is completely normal - sunshine, blue sky, green grass, idyllic houses. No puddles of blood, no red mist. No barking of voracious man-beasts, only quiet sounds of faraway traffic and birdsong.

I look at my feet. No wool, no hooves. Just the shoes I always wear, their heels planted firmly on the ground. No bloodstains on my clothes. Just a little dust.

No, this has to be a trick. A ruse to give me a false sense of security right before a pack of demons busts through the door and rips me apart.

“What were you talking about?”

I look back at Abe. He’s waiting for an explanation, but I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do. If those monsters are coming, it’s not like I have anywhere to go. Maybe I can flee from upstairs using the tree next to my room, but chances are that there are already more bloodthirsty beasts waiting for me on the ground. Coming here was useless. But equally useless would have been to keep running.

Gods. I bury my face in my hands and close my eyes. Maybe all I can do is just lie down and let them come. Hope that my death is swift.

“Red?”

I can hear him get off the couch and come closer, but there’s no point in answering. In moments’ time, that door will break and my life will be over.

“Are you okay?”

Shut up. Just let me die.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong…”

I just breathe. In and out. In and out. In and out…

Nothing’s happening.

Aren’t they coming…?

I open my eyes. Slowly, slowly, I let my hands slide off my face and look around. Abe’s still there. The sunshine is still there. My shoes are still there.

“Red?”

I take another moment just to breathe. On each breath, I expect all hell to break loose, but it never does.

I swallow, throat dry, and stand up straight. With mechanical motions, I make my way to the kitchen window and look to the yard. No monsters. Just the same kind of view as the living room window.

I think… I think this is real.

I pull out a chair and sit down.

It seems like this whole apocalypse thing was just another hallucination. Just like the spiders back at the clinic. And that supermarket massacre from a few days ago…

Dammit. What is this illness? Physically, I feel just fine, but clearly I can’t be well if I keep hallucinating. Can a sickness like this really exist? If it does, it has to be extremely rare. Where could I have caught it? What was I doing right before all these symptoms began? What things did I interact with?

Wait.

Could it be…

It has to be.

Everything adds up. Everything points to it.

Oh, I’ve been so stupid… how could I have missed something so obvious?

Well, it doesn’t matter now. I think I know how to fix it.

I get off my chair and open a drawer. I see a paring knife. It will do.

As I give it a quick rinse in the sink, Abe takes a few more cautious steps closer. “What are you… doing?”

I dry the knife in a towel, then turn to him with a smile on my face. His expression goes from worry to horror as I lift the knife up to my temple. A hollow chuckle escapes my throat.

“I’m gonna cure myself.”

---​
 
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Chibi Pika

Stay positive
Staff
Location
somewhere in spacetime
Pronouns
they/them
Partners
  1. pikachu-chibi
  2. lugia
  3. palkia
  4. lucario-shiny
  5. incineroar-starr
Here for Smeargle Swap! Michi and Joanna, just hangin out

fb9053b817e575192a09b6aad398eb0c13780123.png
 
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SparklingEspeon

Back on Her Bullshit
Staff
Location
a Terrace of Indeterminate Location in Snowbelle
Pronouns
She/Her
Partners
  1. espurr
  2. fennekin
  3. zoroark
Review of Prologue (original) through Chapter 5

Okay SO

I should open this by saying that there aren’t many pieces of fiction these days that really get me to read faster than a snail’s pace or elicit the “just one more chapter…” feel. As of today I can officially count Hunter Haunted among them. Everything about this story just flows, and flows really well. I read four chapters in under an hour, and basically only stopped because the end of Chapter Five is a good breaking point.

This fic’s portrayal of Red is an interesting one. It takes a bit of getting used to, and it’s hard to even see him as the same character in anything but name tbh, but it’s a very interesting take. And one that’s pretty well done. This universe’s Red isn’t the pokemon trainer everyone’s come to know—He’s an antisocial, damaged teen who dropped out of high school and (apparently) met a demon entity that told him he could have all the power and carnage he ever wanted if he just continues down this path. Learn not to love. Internalize the idea that you are a predator and everyone else is the prey. Hone your violent tendencies. Detatch yourself from everyone around you. It’s an interesting take to me not just because of all that, but because under the surface he seems to know it isn’t the solution for him, but he’s trudging towards it anyway because it’s all he has left. He seems to have to convince himself constantly that these ideas are the right ideas, even though they violate his bases as a living being and he knows it. Even when he’s about to be accepted by HELIX and become the Vessel, he’s convinced that this is what’s going to lead him to happiness in a way that seems to bring him at odds with what HELIX wants out of him.

Which is probably why HELIX rebukes him at the last moment. After that bit I was admittedly left wondering if all of Red’s dealings with HELIX were just of his mind and he was just convincing himself HELIX was real when it was all in his head. Which, I would buy. Everything is framed from Red’s point of view in such a way that I would readily believe he was just schizophrenic and not really seeing this. But then that doesn’t explain the summoning circles and other supernatural elements…

Honestly, if I had one piece of criticism, it’s that this doesn’t really feel like a pokemon fic. Like sure, the pokemon are there, there’s the oymanoyte, the slaking, the Yamask, whatever Helix is. But it also feels like they could be removed from the story and replaced with IRL-based equivalents and it wouldn’t affect the story at all. They’re honestly so roundabout that I kind of forgot I was even reading a pokemon fic for a while until I saw mentions of pichu and houndoom, viridian, etc.

There are definitely some layers added from it being a pokemon fic, such as the whole TTP stuff. I’m also somewhat sure that Red named himself that as part of priming himself to be HELIX’S vessel, kinda like as a blood/predator allegory, which adds another twisted layer to the whole thing. Really twisted stuff!

Something I wonder is where this story is supposed to go from here on out. As of now, it seems like Red has accomplished everything he wanted—Joanna is gone, the kid with his secret is dead—except the ascension he so badly wants and almost got. He seems to have made a resolution to hone himself more and become worthy of being the Vessel. It’s a hollow victory, but it’s one step away… and yet the fic is only just halfway. This probably means that Red failed in his attempt to kill Joanna, and/or he’s going to receive pressure from other sides like the therapy sessions.

I also wonder about HELIX, and where that’s meant to go. Obviously HELIX has Bad Intentions and is cultivating Red into a monster so he can probably like possess Red and stamp him out and just steal the body, but I find myself in the dark as to whether that’s ever actually going to happen. It seems like Red’s situation can only ever go downhill from here, and despite what Red says to himself he is a volatile, unstable person who’s on the brink of collapse. Which, if Red is to be believed, is only driving further and further away from what HELIX wants in a host. So while I feel like this is going to ramp up for a climax, the story seems to be driving it to a point where it can only collapse in shambles. Which has the potential to either render HELIX powerless since HE clearly needs a host, or make HIM very angry. There’s still six more chapters, and a lot can change in that time. But I’ll be interested to see which way it goes—at this point, I’m left unsure.

Overall: This is a very unique, interesting story! The quality is stellar, even if its ties to pokemon are minimal. I think it would be well serviced if you adapted this into an original thing (which IIRC I recall you may have been doing?), but even as it is it’s a story that I’d happily give top marks and recommend to others. Truly unfortunate if it’s anywhere near as buried as you’ve said it is :(

~SparklingEspeon
 

WildBoots

Don’t underestimate seeds.
Pronouns
She/Her
Partners
  1. moka-mark
  2. solrock
Finally returning for Chapter 5, in which Red LARPS in real time as a wolf and gets too into it.

I didn't read as critically as I normally do this time, so I guess hit me up if you were worried about a passage or beat I didn't touch on.

Something gleams on the floor. Shards. Golden. Of the mask? Must be.
This narration structure reminds me a lot of Persephone!

I catch my reflection in the mirror and study it further. I’m tall. My shoulders, wide, while my waist is narrow… a silhouette so masculine, yet so graceful. And look at that pretty face, pretty hair! By the Gods, I’m beautiful! No wonder HE chose me! I’m perfect!
He's almost high on his own ego, oh my god.

Nothing gained from this adventure, only a danger patched up.

But just take a look at what you have here. A scared little girl tied up and you feeling like a god. Your bloodthirst still unquenched. You need to get that out of your system. Killing a ghost didn't do it. But how about… a chase?
Right, if he ends this little Adventure, he just resumes his regular life, which he hates.

“Hey, Michi…” I start. My voice is deep. Intimidating. Masculine. I really hit the jackpot with this set of genes!
Wow, it's almost to the point of distraction!

Gravel flies at the cabin wall as I kick myself into motion.
Nice detail.

No. Every step is as stable and secure as a tauros’,
I was a little distracted here because, although a bull is big a solid, I also immediately thought of a bull in a China shop, which is all about gracelessness and instability and making a mess of things.

speedy and streamlined as those of a dodrio. They’re flightless, but still flying - this is not running, this is gliding.
This worked better for me because it was more grounded in pokemon-y-ness.

Also noticing a real theme here with flight and the desire for freedom! The pidgey earlier, imagining himself as a dodrio, the way he longingly gazes up at the sky at the end of this chapter ... His god offers him power but isn't actually liberating him from himself yet.

Step, step, step, jump, step, hop, leap, step, step, duck, step
I liked this structure and rhythm, but I thought it went a little long.

The gauntlet goes on and on,
Gauntlet doesn't feel like the right word since it's not much of a challenge for him.

Could they even have my fingerprints?
Easy come easy go! Poof, and big bad predator is small and scared just like Michi.

She lands rough,
*Roughly
(Since you're modifying a verb, lands, it has to be an adverb.)

Her head rolls onto its cheek, exposing her neck again, and my teeth, my teeth want to bite into it…
This reads awkwardly for me.

Suggestion: Her head rolls to the side, exposing her cheek and neck again, and ...

The man - in other words, HE in the form of the first Helixian king, Kohath - steps to me.
This was clunky too.

Suggestion: The man—Kohath, the first Helixian king—HE steps to me.

He extends a hand and places it onto my cheek.
Suggestion: He extends a hand to cup my cheek.

But now I'm an adult
Pressing X to doubt.

It doesn’t want Michi erased.
I was confused at first what "it" referred to (regret? heart?) because it was in the last paragraph, forcing me to double back instead of flowing smoothly to the next idea.

Suggestion: Some small part of me doesn't want Michi erased.

And if I’m poor enough,
This sounds like it's about money, which I don't think Kohath gives a shit about.

Suggestion: And if I'm a poor enough disciple,

I guess this corporeal form is one thing I can be happy about.
What an emotional roller coaster this day has been for Red.

One final note: it's a shame that Michi is out of the game so fast! Girl who can talk to ghosts is frankly more interesting to me than angsty, self-centered cultist boy, and I'm sorry to see her go.
 
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WildBoots

Don’t underestimate seeds.
Pronouns
She/Her
Partners
  1. moka-mark
  2. solrock
Surprise, I'm back for Chapter 6!

This one's pretty short and sweet, and everything I wanted to say ended up in the line quotes.

The air I breathe in is strangely heavy, like water. But I’m not drowning.
This opening felt similar to the opening of the last chapter. I couldn't quite remember where the last one ended, so at first I thought I'd accidentally opened a chapter I'd already read or that I missed something. I've got a theory about why they're so similar, but I did still wish there was some kind of lead-in or bridge between the end of the last chapter and this opening.

What will I be eating?
I've got a guess ...

Aaaaand yup. ✅

Stealthily, I get up, lucky to have the second seat in the row. I let the crowd keep their attention on the current speaker while I scan my surroundings for an exit. This is a rather nice-looking graveyard, fancier than the one I live near,
Oh wait. I see. Killing Joanna and Michi was a dream too, wasn't it? He's still in the yamask's thrall and doesn't know it. I wondered why you'd gotten rid of Michi so quickly. Like, I've seen the buckets of character art—you love her! Here's hoping we get to see more of her eventually.

“And now, a speech from one of her close friends, Red Akai.”

...I’m sorry, what did the old guy just say?
Once again, I'm reminded of The Magnus Archives.

while watching some weird, weird anime on her TV.
Lol! If Red is calling it weird ...

Smack right into a surface of some kind. Dark, wooden, hollow. That wasn’t there before. It’s a little taller than me -- it’s the coffin, standing upright. I try to move past it, but something’s got me by the arm. Something with a chilling touch. I struggle, but it holds me in place. Look back. It’s a shadow, a hand. A ghost mon’s hand.
Cofigrigus, huh? Innnnnteresting. Surely not significant.

“Th-this isn’t legal!”
Yeah, can't have people doing illegal things, can we, Red.

The brightness smacks me in the face, shedding away most of my drowsiness.
"Shedding away" doesn't sound natural. (You don't really shed away; shedding already implies away.) I think stripping/peeling/lifting away would work better.

I reach my mangled hand into my chest cavity underneath my ribs, grabbing the thing that beats and pulling it out with little resistance. I hold out disembodied heart that still pulsates, but now without blood. The torn edges of the thick blood vessels that leave it - aorta, superior vena cava, pulmonary artery, so on - are a sad sight. Vessels as diligent as these deserve clean cuts.
Spaghetti and HH was definitely the best pairing I could've chosen for myself.

🥲

Mistakes were made.

I watch out for any possible quills shed by Fonz while I walk across the floor to the cupboards.
The word order makes it read like Red is spreading around Fonz's shed quills.

Suggestion: Walking to the cupboards, I keep an eye out for any of Fonz's shed quills on the floor.

I suppose it makes sense for my mother to have taken most of the clothes she uses to where she actually lives. How she’s manged to fit them all in that apartment is beyond me.
Wait, she doesn't live with Red anymore? When did that happen?

The presence of these clothes would primarily suggest his death, but it’s also possible for the breakup to have been so stormy that he decided going back for his clothes wasn’t worth it. But then she would have also had a reason to keep them. Maybe she wanted to sell them and never got around to it or guessed correctly that I would grow into them.
Wait, he doesn't know what happened to his own dad??? The hell?

Does Abe use this on his hair or a tangela?
But tangela are made of green stuff.

The man in the mirror has transformed from an under-bridge raticate to a street-strutting, show-stopping ninetales.
I like under-bridge raticate a lot.

I give the mirror my most amiable, benevolent, tame smile.

There it is. Peak deception.
How Red thinks he's smiling: 😏 :grin:
How Red is actually smiling: 😬

What if I accidentally piss off someone bigger and stronger than me? A group of people? Someone with a weapon of his own? I could end up dead.
Yes, big, strong predator. Definitely.

That settled, I step down to the front yard and take in the weather. It's sunny and warm with only a few puffy clouds in the vivid blue sky - but a refreshing wind makes sure no traveller gets too hot. Wonderful weather for a walk. If the waters weren't still cold, it'd be a fantastic day to go out to the beach.
What happened to therapy? Swept up in more dream logic?

Actually… maybe a few people have decided to go out and try out the sea's temperature.
"Try out the sea's temperature" is a little unnatural. Maybe "test the waters"?

making sure to maintain perfect posture on every street regardless of the amount of onlookers.
Nothing to see here, folks. Just a normal person walking normally, looking super normal.

in use of people and mon alike.
Aww, cute to imagine pokemon sunning themselves next to their human friends. In this settings, shouldn't it be humans and pokemon though? It sounds like pokemon here are treated with personhood.

A policewoman. What’s one doing here? Maybe she’s looking for me? But I left no evidence…

Yes, that's right! I left no evidence. That means she can’t be here for me. Or if she is, she can't do anything.
Man, he is just constantly seesawing.

I’ll just keep standing on the edge of this bottomless chasm, smiling at the pit and receiving a smile in return.
I though this line worked well.

The woman gasps. “Samson!” She nearly frolics to her, but the man beats her to it.
I feel like there's a typo here?

Ronnie waves her hand. "Oh, just a stranger that came up for a chat. I don't know him any more than that."
Lol, yeah why is Red still standing there?

I guess I should just get right back on the rapidash despite getting singed.
I liked this one, too.

👋
 

canisaries

you should've known the price of evil
Location
Stovokor
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. inkay-shirlee
  2. houndoom-elliot
  3. yamask-joanna
  4. shuppet
  5. deerling-andre
Suggestion: The man—Kohath, the first Helixian king—HE steps to me.
I'm a bit worried that this would make people erroneously assume that HE is Kohath, though, when Kohath was just one of HIS servants and a form HE likes to take when talking to Red.

Spaghetti and HH was definitely the best pairing I could've chosen for myself.

🥲

Mistakes were made.
Well, at least it isn't the end of chapter 10. You'll find out why in due time.

Wait, she doesn't live with Red anymore? When did that happen?
Some years ago. Feel too much unease around her son and supports the house remotely now. Her job pays pretty well.

What happened to therapy? Swept up in more dream logic?
The next psych session has not yet been scheduled at this point.

Thanks for the reviews!
 

Pen

the cat is mightier than the pen
Staff
Partners
  1. dratini
  2. dratini-pen
  3. dratini-pen2
9. The Mareep

Well, this chapter was a trip--a good one for me, and a very, very not-good one for Red. I was pretty sure for narrative reasons that the apocalypse in the second half of the chapter had to be a hallucination, but one thing I really enjoy about how you write these moments is that there's no discernible break in writing style between reality and delusion. Red's hyper-aware narration continues, complete with picking out logical fallacies, like atypical predator behavior of spiders. That feeling as a reader of not being able to tell the difference solely based on prose cues creates an immersion into Red's perspective, since of course he can't tell either. Over all, the prose read smoothly in this one and I was glued to my screen the whole chapter.

Red comes to a lot of realizations here over a short period of time. A large part of his arrogance has always stemmed from delusion--chiefly the delusion that he is immortal, or will be. It's pretty ironic that in this chapter his delusion is deflated by another delusion. Red continues to be an excellent case in point for how you can empathize with and pity characters that are fundamentally terrible. You do a nice job tapping into some universal sentiments and fears as Red contemplates his loss of existence and tries to deal with the fact that he can't trust his senses. On a narrative level it's satisfying to see Red realizing just how contradictory his grandiose proclamations and his reality are. This line really summed it up: It’s too daring to be prey and too frightened to be predator. What is it, then? Red's radical division of the world has suddenly left no place for him in it.

This chapter also made me think a lot about body vs mind in the story so far. Red sets a lot in store by his physical form. It's an aspect of his life that he's very confident in. So I really sat up at Kohath's mic drop that "YOUR PITIFUL BODY IS NO DIFFERENT FROM A BIRD-PECKED CARCASS TO ME!" . There's a lot to unpack. First of all, it's fascinating that Red's mind has him usurped by Joanna. As a ghost, she's literally incorporeal, the complete other end of the spectrum from Red's idolization of the (male) physical form. The bird-pecked carcass idea ties Red's physical form to the certainty of his death, echoing his earlier panic attack that his body is failing him and he is going to die. Maybe Joanna seems so threatening to Red precisely because she'd done what he cannot, survive beyond her body, with no one's help but her own. This rejection of Red's body also comes at a moment in which he is realizing he can't trust his mind. He's triumphed in physical situations--see his very brave take-down of a child--but when the task is to stand still and ignore hallucinatory spiders (or deny his feelings for best squid baby), he can't do it. It's interesting how in the final segment of the apocalypse hallucination, his body is transformed to match his newly perceived weakness. It's like he has to make it physical in order to fully understand it.

It looks like the fall-out from Red's actions these past two chapters will be for Act 3 to explore. Looking forward to it!

Featureless hallway follows another, but the spider never gets quieter. I glance back and they’re no further from me than they were before.
We've got spider, singular, in the first sentence, and "they're" in the second.

And even if they were real, I wouldn’t have to be afraid - like said, they’re just spiders, and they can’t bring any serious harm a human like me.
'Bring harm (to) a human' isn't super idiomatic. Cause harm to, inflict harm on, do harm to. Or just 'harm a human like me.'

Think about ascension. The body you'll have. It won't feel anything you don't want it to feel. You can make it feel only bliss, you can make it beautiful beyond comprehension, deadlier than any weapon.
Red's vision of ascension is so personal and so rooted in what bothers him about himself.

A part of me tells me there’s no point in answering and another disagrees.
Might want to use "says" over "tells me" to avoid the double mes there.

I build the sentence that expresses my request and speak it. "Can you show me?"
I really like how you worded this. It really gets across how difficult even a single intelligible sentence is for Red to produce right now.

The trees' leaves flutter in the soft wind, reflecting the sunlight falling from the mostly-clear sky. I know for a fact that I've seen it thousands of times before, but somehow in this moment, it feels brand new.

It's like there is no background noise. Everything I hear - the wind, the rustling of the leaves, the traffic of the town - feel like they're distinct, purposeful noises on top of complete silence.

It feels unreal, but it's the opposite. This is true reality. The reality in which people's lives end, and mine is no exception.
This was a nice moment and kind of a fun subversion of the person who experiences nature more vividly after a near-death experience.

I raise my hand. The bus answers with its blinker, and I tuck that hand in my pocket. I realize how this process has become automatic in my mind and no longer requires conscious thought to execute. Something about that is a bit comforting - despite this world-shattering realization, I can still perform everyday functions. I'm not utterly helpless.
The only serial killer who vibes with the lyric "Success is finding a seat on a crowded subway"
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RzUw6yrXQZo&list=PL7gYUOs7CszBzBjWhXYjUw71u9XZGcoYR&index=7


With a blank mind, I watch the numerous buildings and trees go by and listen to the hums of the machinery underneath. Their pitch changes with the speed, becoming the lowest whenever the bus stops to pick up or let out some other passengers.
"Hum" would be singular here and "Their" would be "its."

But when I see that face, I know there is no human underneath. There is a being that kills humans and eats their flesh. A being to whom a gutted corpse is a sight of irresistible beauty. A being that lusts to hurt, to eviscerate, to consume. Whose mouth waters at these words alone.

And yet, that being cowers away from tiny, eight-legged creatures and computer screens. All its wrath fizzles away when it sees a little omanyte. It simply can’t seem to brush away its outdated emotions, wrestling with its unreasonable anger and fear on a daily basis.

It’s too daring to be prey and too frightened to be predator. What is it, then?
Excellent passage. Really sums up the story so far.

I guess that also means… throwing away the tongues. Well, it makes sense. A failure deserves no trophies.

I suppose I shouldn't go killing any more people, either.
Less humor in this chapter than some of the others, but I had to laugh a bit at ceasing to murder people as a dejected afterthought.

YOU HAVE FEARED AND LOVED THINGS OTHER THAN YOUR GOD, AND STILL YOU EXPECT TO BE REWARDED?
Mmmm.

I take a closer look at the knife-bearer’s face. It’s the receptionist.

That fucking bastard.
I like little details like this that are clearly Red's subconscious throwing in everything he's upset about.

Mareep hooves. Black-wooled.
Oooh.

I try to cry out one last time for HIM to spare me, but the only thing that comes out is… a bleat.
Amazing mental image.

Just like I gave Michi a head start… the irony is not lost on me.
Congratulations for catching it.

How the fuck doesn't he know? No one could fail to notice the fucking earthquakes and screaming! Is he that oblivious?
Abe's just that metal.

His expression goes from worry to horror as I lift the knife up to my temple. A hollow chuckle escapes my throat.

“I’m gonna cure myself.”
I'm pretty sure Red's not even thinking about suicide here.
 

Chibi Pika

Stay positive
Staff
Location
somewhere in spacetime
Pronouns
they/them
Partners
  1. pikachu-chibi
  2. lugia
  3. palkia
  4. lucario-shiny
  5. incineroar-starr
Gonna just go ahead and echo Pen that I had to scroll down one line at a time while reading chapter 8 lmao. The sheer level of tension throughout was thick enough to cut a knife. With each lie out of Red's mouth, I'd be right there with him like "right, yeah, that seems logical enough" only for there to be some unforeseen flaw that would unravel everything. It's so easy for the reader to sink into Red's assumptions about things, only for those assumptions to get shattered along with him. While at the same time kinda-sorta making the copyka face each time he gets caught in a lie. It's glorious.

I definitely wasn't expecting the psychiatrist to grill him that hard! Or for her to have gotten that much information about him from his housemates. Each piece of information she revealed about him felt like a weapon being laid out on the table, and it was a real string of "oh shit" moments one after the other. Definitely would have been easier for Red to just admit that he had no friends. That's not even that uncommon/concerning for a high schooler!

Lotta great narration from Red, as usual. I was particularly fond of "living, breathing ore processing plant" and "wingull stalking a poorly-guarded burger." And of course his unraveling sanity as the spider hallucinations got worse, with juuuust enough self-awareness for him to know he looked nuts. For someone so afraid of losing control, not even being able to control what he's seeing is a pretty heavy setback.

Should be able to get to chapter 9 next week!
 
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