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StolenMadWolf

Loony Moony
Pronouns
She/They
Partners
  1. scorbunny
  2. buneary
Welp. I really went flying into this one. I know you reviewed some of my stuff before and dang, your stuff goes flying off in directions I was not expecting. Something to keep an eye on I suppose. I’ll be focusing on the Prologue (The Original one) as well as the first two chapters for this review. As a disclaimer, I tend to go through worldbuilding, characters and plot over anything else, specifically grammar and writing itself. However, I’ll try and cover all these bases when I can.

So with that… let us begin.

So, the prologue. Not the alternate one, but the original. And damn, is it gruesome. I have read some horror stories in the past that don’t really hold back on the shear amount of… colourful content, nevermind horror movies. But it’s still a pretty big slap in the face. But putting that firmly to one side, you definitely capture the image of someone who has truly started losing it. No tip-toing around that fact, between his casual thoughts to the horror as well as elation of being, what, possessed? That is definitely striking.

We then roll over to the first chapter, and we take a bit of a breather here. We are still seeing things from the very twisted perspective of Red here, and the first person perspective in this writing is something that can’t really be understated here. It really does add to the story in a why that third person could never properly show off. And as a bonus, it’s clear as day that despite his… insanity might be a bit strong a word but… troubled… mind is torn somewhat. He’s very much praising of this ‘HIM’ and what he is hoping to get with nutty fevour to the point of flat out religious worship, but… well, he’s stumbling. He keeps trying to call his Pokemon it rather than the normal pronouns… and naturally fails a lot in the process. His finding the natural world dull, boring and plain is also adding depth to his character… whilst also still highlighting how mad the guy actually is. Look, bear with me on this one, the guy is a murderer, I’m not really going to be that sympathetic to the guy. And that’s before he nearly snaps and tries killing everyone in the store before reeling himself back in. Jaysus this guys is completely nuts.

I’m going to jump on ahead here, because he soon starts seeing hints that his victim is still being searched for far and wide, and then he’s right in the shit when he works out that victim has come back to life as a Pokemon ghost. Cue a real worry for the victim as our villain starts following her and her new friend. Now, I’m immediately rooting for this young girl here, because not only is she a lot more friendly and helpful, but also manages to pick up this murderer and actually puts him on the backfoot for the better part of a few minutes. God if only she took him out here and there. Yeah, I’m biased to what appears to be the good guys here, no matter how much mental help the protagonist actually needs. That essentially fills out Chapter 2, which essentially continues over the previous chapter and seems like a good point to stop.

Okay, I’m just going to admit it. This isn’t really my kind of thing. I’ve read up and seen some real pieces of work in fiction, but I’m already rooting for Red to meet some horrific demise. I’ve read some really bloody horror too, but that at least had characters you could kinda root for when looking through their viewpoints, even if they turned nasty. So far apart from his semi-partial restraint and possible depression… sorry, I’m not giving Red any sympathy points. And this is coming off the back of reading a fan-fic which talks about second chances.

That being said, the writing itself is solid with no grammar issues glaring at me, and you do succeed in getting us into Red’s head here, I won’t deny that, it is really effective writing. There are also really good characters here to root for too, but given who the protagonist is… yeah, I’m not exactly fully confident there.

In truth, I probably won’t end up reading through more of this, it’s not really my cup of tea as I stated, and I’d just spend the time, well, awaiting the villain’s painful demise. But I cannot deny that it is a compelling read that does it’s job excellently, and clearly you’ve got some interest in and like writing it. I can’t argue with that. Keep up the writing.
 

canisaries

you should've known the price of evil
Premium
Location
Stovokor
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. inkay-shirlee
  2. houndoom-elliot
  3. yamask-joanna
  4. shuppet
  5. deerling-andre
  6. omanyte
  7. hizzap
@StolenMadWolf Thanks for the review!

It's totally fine that this isn't your thing! You gave it a fair shot and it just wasn't in the cards. I do want to mention a few things before you go, though, so that you're left with a more accurate understanding of what this story's trying to do.

I would consider Hunter, Haunted a character study. It's meant to portray and explore this particular character with these particular traits and beliefs. That isn't to say that there isn't a plot, but the goal is not to get the reader on Red's side. It's to see what happens when this Guy is put into this Situation and how he copes with it and how it changes him. I can already say that he's not going to to become a good person as he's too far gone for that, but perhaps he'll realize that he can't keep going the way he's going.

That in mind, it's still perfectly understandable for someone not to want to read a story about a guy like this. I just wanted to clear things up a bit.

Thanks again, and see you around!
 

ShiniGojira

Multiversal Extraordinaire
Location
Stranded In The Gaps between Multiverses
Pronouns
He/him/they/her
Partners
  1. froslass
  2. zorua-gojira
  3. salandit-shiny
  4. goomy
Hello, how are ya? Hopefully fine! Here's my review for catnip and it's fresh and hot!

So chapter 1 was a pretty interesting one. I remember from my earlier review of the two prologues that the narration felt a bit weird due to the 'vibe' I expected but I'll be honest and say that the chapter did well to segue from the dark, grim description of murder and whatnot of the prologue, to a more 'normal' atmosphere.

The depression written from Red's perspective was also nice to read, it conveyed a lot about Red's current mental state and nicely builds up to the near breakdown done later in the supermarket. Kinda funny how he keeps saying he's fine when he nearly went crazy from a baby crying.

The subtle worldbuilding around the chapter was also interesting. With Pokémon being on more equal terms with humans rather than being pets and stuff. I do wonder how that came to be since this Red was presumably spawned from 'Twitch plays' due to all the Helix and stuff.

Then come the big conflict in the form of police investigation and Yamask. With how jittery and nervous he got from just being near his victim's family member, I don't know how he'll last under deeper scrutiny especially with Ms Yamask trying to unmask her killer to the cops.

And here's a few line-by-line comments:

But I don’t do either. I can’t do either. Because to do those human things, you'd have to be human.
Huh, he's already that far gone eh?
Even if I know it's completely useless, as I can't show it to anyone pre-ascension,
Why not?.. is it because it contains all kinds of demonic rituals and torture methods?
No! No, I shouldn't. I shouldn't interrupt HIM - HE must be hard at work, making preparations and gathering strength
Yes, busy being the goofy little fossil octopus thingy he is.
No, I have to teach them. It’s my duty. I’m the only one who understands. The only one with a knife, the only one with the power. Yes, I should be the predator to rid the ecosystem of these pathetic slobs. The fearow to dive into this swarm of fat rattata and impale them with its beak and talons.
Oh jeez, his thoughts turned dark a lot quicker than I expected and it's all because of a baby crying. He's scary, petty and unstable. Weirdly enough this scene kinda reminds me of Broly from DBZ... am I weird for thinking that?
almost ask why they're looking here and not in Viridian where she lived, but remember swiftly that I don't want to go to jail. They probably have looked in Viridian, anyway, but why come to Pallet? Does the family live here? Will the investigation take place in this town? Shit…
Oof, guess this is where things get intense.

Anywho, that should be it for now. This chapter's certainly peaked my interest and if I have the time, I'll try and see if I can get a couple chapters down next time. Hope you have a great rest of your day! Take care.
 

canisaries

you should've known the price of evil
Premium
Location
Stovokor
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. inkay-shirlee
  2. houndoom-elliot
  3. yamask-joanna
  4. shuppet
  5. deerling-andre
  6. omanyte
  7. hizzap
Thank you for the lovely review, ShiniGojira!

The subtle worldbuilding around the chapter was also interesting. With Pokémon being on more equal terms with humans rather than being pets and stuff. I do wonder how that came to be since this Red was presumably spawned from 'Twitch plays' due to all the Helix and stuff.
The reason Pokémon can talk in this universe actually is precisely because of the Twitch Plays origin. Twitch Plays lore made several of the team members of the games' main characters into fully-fledged people, and I didn't want to lose that when I originally started writing stories in this universe. While it makes it a bit weird and sometimes even alienating, I'm glad I went for that since it gave me a lot of interesting material to explore - not so much in this particular story, but the other ones.

That's all I had to add. Thanks again!
 

Umbramatic

The Ghost Lord
Premium
Location
The Yangverse
Pronouns
Any
Partners
  1. reshiram
  2. zygarde
Herre for catnip and Chapter 4!

Ah, Red the poet, interrupted by birds

I love this swearing Pidgey and would protect it with my life. I'm glad Red begrudgingly does too.

Ah here is Michi. Very "i don't trust like that" and for good reason

Red: "haha i have successfully assaulted this girl, i am so smort"

Red is very much taking the opportunity to be smug here

lmao the bit about the droopy-eyed stare

You are DEFINITELY that weird red

Red the poet again with his smells

something something it's a beautiful day the birds are singing something something bad time

i do not want red's compliments

HAHA YES GO FOR THE SHINS MICHI

lmao red having to confirm he's holding a knife

Red: -squeezes michi so she makes funny noises-

oh man this must be a Time for Joanna huh

oh NOW Red accounts for the shins

i don't think you ate going to sell this ghost you murdered on Helix Red.

Worldbuilding! That's always nice.

-points and laughs at Red talking to himself-

See Red this is what you get when you stick an obviously cursed mask on your face. Big fucking surprise.

Red the poet but with knives now.

Red the poet but with murder now, the most quintessential red the poet.

Uh, I guess Joanna is dead again? Womp womp.

-----------

That was definitely a fun read. The action's really ramped up and shit is happening. Red continues to be a very fun villain antagonist you root both for and against. His personality and way of thinking and talking are just so ENTERTAINING. Though of course I feel bad for Michi. And Joanna. Especially Joanna. I'm not convinced she's dead again for good though. There's still a fair bit more fic to go. And that mask did SOMETHING to Red that obviously wasn't good...

Thanks for posting!
 

Spiteful Murkrow

Busy Writing Stories I Want to Read
Pronouns
He/Him/His
Partners
  1. nidoran-f
  2. druddigon
  3. swellow
  4. lugia
  5. growlithe
  6. quilava-fobbie
  7. sneasel-kate
  8. heliolisk-fobbie
Heya, swooping back into this story as a part of a double-feature Catnip Review. Last time, we left off with Red stabbing Yamask!Joanna out of existence, which was a bit of an unexpected note to leave off on. So let’s pick up and see what that aftermath looks like here.

Chapter 5

rated mature for violence against a minor, blood, strong language.

Well, that’s a good™ sign for Michi’s life expectancy already.
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CHAPTER FIVE
Death

Really good™ sign for her life expectancy there.

It's quiet.

No wind, nothing. Only my own breath and the pounding in my chest. Frantic, but second by second slowing down to a calmer, if still fast, rhythm.

But… I killed her. Shouldn't I be back? Looking around, everything is still muted, hazy… dreamlike. If killing her is not the way back, then what…

...is my face… drying?

Wait, ghostmons bleed in this setting? Or what is it that he got on his face there?

It feels… crusty, ugh. And cool. Cold. A layer of something is forming onto it. Solidifying. Is it...

Oh Gods. I gotta open my mouth before --

“Mmphh!”

It's too late! My mouth, my nostrils - they're sealed shut!

Wait, is that Mummy that’s affecting Red there? I wasn’t expecting it to work on a human, though yeah, I suppose that’s a sign that Red didn’t do sufficient homework for his brilliant “let’s kill Joanna” plan.

Nails! Fuck, no, nails don't do anything! Only screeches, screeches from the scraping. And the air, the air in my lungs, losing its oxygen, turning sour, toxic...

What is this? Joanna's last attempt at vengeance? Some sort of automatic curse? It's already the second time this mask has tried to suffocate me, but at least last time --

Crack!

I gasp. Air. It's back. My face feels warm, normal. The world’s still a blur, but the colors… richer colors… blink. Blink blink blink. Getting clearer. The cabin. Normal colors. Am I back? I can hear something… the wind! I'm back. Gods, thank the Gods.

I mean, it’d be a pretty short story if Red just suffocated here, though I take it that’s the origin for the mask on Red’s face in the art for this story.

… Which implies that this isn’t the last time we’ve seen it in this story. :copyka:

I collapse to my knees from both exhaustion and relief. The knife drops from my hand, landing next to me on the cool wooden planks. I inhale, exhale, shakily repeat. Blood rushes to my brain and eyes. I'm coming back to life.

Something gleams on the floor. Shards. Golden. Of the mask? Must be. It broke on my face. That was that impact I felt. What caused that? What caused this whole thing? Was this… was this just transition to reality? I… I guess. I mean, the shift to the spiritual plane or whatever it was also had me nearly suffocating, only fitting that...

A sizzle. The shards. They've caught fire. White fire, the same that took Joanna. Does that mean it's ending? Truly ending this time? Yes. Yes! Burn!

Huh. I see you’re certainly keeping us on our toes for where things will go in this chapter, since I wasn’t expecting him to get out of that mask so easily.

“H…hah...hahaha…”

Why that laughter is leaving my body, I don’t know, but it feels appropriate.

The fire consumes the shards and, like smoke, dissipates in the air. The floor below isn't even charred.

It really is over now.

press-x-to-doubt-la-noire.jpg


My ears catch the sound of something shifting behind me. I turn my head. It’s Michi, on the bench. She’s trying to get away. But her startled eyes tell me being spotted has stopped that for now.

Right, I still have her to deal with…

I grab my knife, or try to - the first two tries miss, I guess because I’m still a bit out of it. But on the third try, my palm catches the silky hilt, and I’m reunited with my dear partner.

Well damn, we’re about to see a child murder onscreen at this rate. I wasn’t fully expecting that, but you can’t say that it’s not in-character for Red here.

I get up, and -- whoa, whoa, I’m light. I mean, I can feel the weight of each limb, but they’re light as feathers to move. Have I always been this strong?

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!

I take off my gloves and inspect my hands. Such nice hands. I want to feel this reality with them, no fabric in the way.

Red, I’m pretty sure that if Helix is real, that he’s screaming externally right now for you being this dumb about being this sloppy about your murders.

I turn to Michi. She’s so small. Afraid. And I'm so not that. The contrast is almost tangible.

But, yeah… I guess now I should get the spores and put her under so I can carve the memory erasing seal onto her skin. She’ll have a weird scar and maybe wonder what that is, but nothing should tie it to me. No one will remember Joanna's ghost, save for a few people that may have caught a glimpse, and I'll get away with this just like I've gotten away with all the other murders. Man, it's so easy. Killing people is so easy!

Not that I’m expecting it to bail Michi out here, but this feels like it’s heavily tempting fate right now, Red.

I walk over to the bag, about to zip it open, but stop. After I've drugged her and carved the seal… this'll all be over. I'll just go home and - well, I will perform that exorcism just in case, but besides that… nothing more. I'll return to my boring life and be right where I started. Nothing gained from this adventure, only a danger patched up.

Narrator: “Things will not go back to normal since there’s almost two-thirds of the story left-”
Red: “Shut up and let me kill this brat in peace, okay?!”
785236292803100683.webp


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?

whywouldyoudothat.jpg


Red, this is literally the definition of a dumb risk that you’re taking because you’re bored right now.

I study Michi with my eyes, and she answers the gaze with uncertainty and fear. Young child, girl, pink hair. Come on, now, she's a personification of innocence. And you? You kill people. You serve the Lord of Predators. You’re the ideal evil - a concept that doesn't exist to you, but does for a narrative. You like being the bad guy. You love it. You always saw the Big Bad Houndoom as something to admire. That's what you wanted to be, powerful and feared. And now you're in the woods, in grandma's cabin. Do you need it spelled out for you?

I take it that Red doesn’t watch many animal documentaries about how the reality behind predators is often a lot less sexy than the mythos, huh?

“Hey, Michi…” I start. My voice is deep. Intimidating. Masculine. I really hit the jackpot with this set of genes! “You know how I said I wouldn't hurt you?”

She recoils.

“No, don't worry, that still stands. I just want to… play a little before we say goodbye.”

Michi: -muffled- “I’m aura-sensitive, you idiot! I know that you’re lying to me right now!”
916590061942894602.webp

Red: “What’s that? ‘My knife’s about to slip?’ Well then, that would be really unfortunate for you, now wouldn’t-”
Michi: -muffled- “On second thought, playing’s fine with me, really.”
916590486356131850.webp


With my knife, I saw through the tape binding her shins together. I half expect a kick, but none comes. That's a good girl.

“This is actually great for you, you know,” I say, grabbing the wool-lined hood of her coat, and prompt her to stand up with my knife. I escort her outside and continue.

“What I'm gonna do is let you go. You're going to run, and after a while, I'll come after you. If I catch you, I'll do what I was planning to do and wipe your memory of this whole incident. But if you get away… you get away. And you can tell the world all about what happened here today. Avenge Joanna, if you want to think of it like that. Doesn't that sound great?”

And thus, this story wound up becoming a fourteen chapter tale instead of ending with Michi getting dismembered in a shack and Red calling it a day and going home. Since I can already tell he’s heavily going to wind up regretting not just killing Michi quickly later on even if he manages to have the last laugh.

I smile at her, and while the duct tape covers her mouth, I'm pretty sure she doesn't smile back.

I mean, she kinda has the means to tell that you’re lying through your teeth and messing with her, just saying, Red.

I pat her shoulder. “You're a pretty impressive kid, Michi. I trust you to give me a good chase.”

I clear my throat. “Alright. When I say ‘go’ and take my hand off your shoulder, you have my permission - and order - to run like hell. Do you understand?”

She nods, and for the first time in a while, a spark of hope ignites in her eyes. So she still has some of that in her. May it fuel her and guide her way in these dense woods.

Um… Red? Doesn’t she regularly go through these woods? Are you sure that you know every part of it better than her? :copyka:

I draw in a deep breath. The air is cool, fresh. Still and calm. Before the storm. And now, it’s time.

“Get ready, Michi.”

She tenses up beneath my hand. I tense up, too.

“Three. Two. One...”

The volume of my voice lowers with each word, making the final one barely more than a whisper.

“Go.”

Can’t tell if he’s actually going to give her a head start or just wait five seconds and dive after herl.

Like a day-old girafarig, she stumbles into a trot, then a gallop. I stretch my neck and back. Shed the mareep skin, let the bristly fur breathe. I wait for her to slip between the spruces at the edge of the opening. Then I begin.

Gravel flies at the cabin wall as I kick myself into motion. With a mere few strides, I’m already so fast. I dive into the woods, her pink hair in my sights.

Whelp, “five seconds” it is.

The forest terrain is lumpy and scattered with rocks and roots, but does it slow me down? No. Every step is as stable and secure as a tauros’, but as speedy and streamlined as those of a dodrio. They’re flightless, but still flying - this is not running, this is gliding. Splitting the air and pushing through it like any mon of the skies would.

But I am no bird, no bovine. I am a houndoom. Horns crown my head, pointed teeth line my jaws, scalding steam escapes my throat with every exhalation. I am a killing machine. While my prey...

Little feet, little body, so frail. A sparkless pichu, its usually rosy cheeks pale with fear. Too light to even make audible noise as its tiny paws tap the ground, when the houndoom’s thumps can be felt to the bone.

Well, that’s more than a little creepy and unsettling as parallelism. Makes me wonder if this isn’t the first time that Red’s knocked off a kid ever since going full serial killer.

Step, step, step, jump, step, hop, leap, step, step, duck, step. The houndoom knows only three things - the woods, the pichu and him. Nothing else matters, nothing else exists.

The pursuit goes on and on, but the houndoom gets ever closer to the pichu. The pichu wheezes. She weakens already. The houndoom’s fiery breath speaks as it rushes in and out of his lungs. Keep running. Don't you want to live?

Red: “I mean, I know the answer to that question, not that it’s going to be helping you at all.”
774368312690737163.webp


Eight meters between the predator and his prey. Seven meters. A stream! She barely makes the jump. Five meters. Four meters. Dodge rock. Three meters. She can tell I’m right behind. Two meters. One meter. Pounce.

She screams.

Wait, she’s able to scream through her gag right now?

Teeth clamp around her neck with the force of a tyranitar. The predator flips her over, then seizes her throat again. She gags. Her limbs flail. In vain. The grip gets tighter. Her blue eyes lose focus. Consciousness is leaving her. The last thing she will feel is pain as the houndoom drains her life to fuel his own.

But houndoom don’t have hands, do they?

They don’t. Then why are there hands? Wasn’t it supposed to be teeth around her neck, not hands? Wasn’t she supposed to be a fuzzy little pichu?

She’s not. She’s human. I’m human.

Wait –

I’m honestly surprised that he didn’t go straight for his knife right then and there and instead opted to try and strangle her.

The hands relax. I pull them back. The palms feel cool after the warm touch of her skin.

Beneath me lies Michi, motionless. Did I…

Hand shaking, I bring two fingers to her neck.

Thump, thump. Okay, she's not dead. She's just unconscious. Unconscious from… strangulation. By me.

how-are-you-not-dead-how-are-you-alive.gif

Red: “Shut up, I’m working on that right now!” >_>;

But I… wasn't supposed to do that. I wasn't supposed to strangle her. And certainly not to death, as I just seemed to be doing. I was supposed to drug her and carve the seal… wait. Drug...

I left my bag back at the cabin. I wouldn’t have even been able to drug her. Did I totally forget? Was I thinking… at all?

No, since you’d have never let her leave that cabin alive if you were.

Well, I… I guess she’s passed out now anyway, so I should just make the seal. I unsheathe my knife and grab Michi’s right wrist, pulling back the sleeve of her coat.

But the red marks on her neck won't stop staring at me.

Those won't disappear in just a few minutes, will they? No, they'll become worse if anything. Bruises. Bruises that perfectly fit my hands. Could they even have my fingerprints?

1021807491589361766.webp


Again, this is why you weren’t supposed to take those gloves off before disposing of Michi, Red.

Well, that won’t even matter if they won’t stop until they catch the perp, and since this is a child, they won’t. They’ll sniff at any and every clue they’ve got to get their justice. Even if I were to drag this corpse to that stream we crossed a while back and washed her neck clean of any skin cells I might have shed on it, even if I took my knife and carved off that skin entirely --

Saliva floods my mouth at the image. No, no! Am I still so thirsty for blood? Did that strangling do nothing for me? Can I not be satisfied by anything less than a proper kill?

What prevents me from having one now?

The set of rules that you apparently have to follow for Lord Helix, since realistically, there’s not a lot of good arguments not to go all the way at this point since Michi knows way too much about what you’ve been up to.

No, no, no. I couldn't do that here. Way too messy. But couldn't all traces be wiped by a disintegration circle? No, I can't count on that - blood might seep deeper into the earth, for one, and the stench of her insides would stick to me… not that a circle would even fit here, either. Too many trees. But I will have to make one anyway - I can't let her live, not with those marks on her neck. I have to dispose of her body. I just… have to find some spot open enough for the circle to fit, first. And I better make sure she doesn't wake up in the meantime and needlessly complicate things…

I feel that the logic behind “I can’t just strangle her”, which is apparently something that is firmly out of bounds for Red here ought to be communicated more firmly. Like my assumption is that it’s some flavor of “because Lord Helix demands it”, but “strangling Michi and then disintegrating her body that didn’t bleed buckets everywhere” feels like a pretty straightforward solution to Red’s problem here. Given that he’s already halfway there to completing things, it probably makes sense to communicate what in his thought process is making him jump through all these extra hoops of not taking the simple solution to his problems.

I take out my knife and - after fending off the urge to gut her right there and then - cut a piece of duct tape from the bind around her ankles. I glue it onto her nostrils as best as I can, lift her up the same way as before and try my best not to topple over. Sturdily enough on my two feet, I bring her back the way I came, eyes constantly scanning for an opening near the path.

I’m just holding onto that for future reference since I’m not convinced that that’s the last that we’ve heard of things.

Through my rapid breaths, I pick up a strange aroma. It's sweet, like pechas. Is it coming from Michi? Why… why would she smell this sweet? Is it perfume? No, I never smelled it earlier! But I can't help my curiosity - if this is how she smells, how would she t-

An opening! There! Finally. I sprint to reach it and drop the girl in the middle. She lands roughly, but she's as good as dead already, it doesn't matter. Her head turns to the side, exposing her neck again, and my teeth, my teeth want to bite into it…

No, remember, way too messy. You can't do it. You can't…

Yeah, I take it that there’s more than a little bit of a “me” angle here for Red insisting that his kills need to be bloody given that this could literally be over with about an extra minute of pressure on Michi’s throat.

But what if just a little? Just a little taste? If her scent is so sweet, her blood, her blood must be even sweeter. Just a little taste. Make sure no blood hits the earth. That's possible. That's quick. Just a little taste.

I pull back the sleeve of her left arm. Her wrist is so thin, her arm so dainty, her skin so pure… but force of habit makes me swipe it a few times anyway.

Well, that’s not creepy at all there.
698047915079237695.webp


I take my knife and - this is it. I place its tip between the flexor tendons and press.

As the blade sinks in, red nectar surfaces. The smell surges. Yes, more. I drag the tip downward, cleaving the skin further. More blood. It’s so vibrant. It almost glows. It begins to drip --

No, I can’t let it drop off. It’d be incriminating - and I don’t want a droplet of it to go to waste…

Which, again. Would not be an issue if you killed her in the shack, Red.

I lean in, brushing the skin with my lips, gathering the blood. As soon as it spreads to my taste buds, my inhibitions vanish. I cover the wound with my mouth entirely.

The taste of blood... the salty taste of life, of pain, of death… there was a time it sickened me, as it usually does for humans, but HE changed that. There’s no nausea, no gag reflexes when it comes to this substance. What replaced it was an overwhelming urge to touch it, feel it, consume it.

I close my eyes and jut my tongue deeper into the incision, feeling the forms of the tendons. The warmth of this flesh... it ignites a flame in my heart. It drills my nails deeper into her skin. It gets me draining, sucking out the sacred fluid, quenching the houndoom’s thirst.

JFC, Red.
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Hot. Vivid in color. Rich in flavor. The beauty of this blood, this moment, can’t be explained in any logical way - it’s a rose, a fire in the night, the rising moon, the spring morning. But most importantly, it’s…

HIM.

The divinity is unmistakable. HE is in this hunt, HE is in this feast. HE is right beside me, approving, advocating. This is HIS bidding I am doing. I am HIS vessel, embodiment. I am the gorge through which HIS river flows, the fuel with which HE burns...

Red.

I freeze.

Did I imagine that? Or did HE really…

Well then, Helix or whatever part of Red’s mind stands in for him appears to have entered the chat.

No, that’s impossible. HIS vessel is all the way back at the basement, and that’s where HIS spirit is tethered to. Last time I asked, HIS powers could only properly reach five meters away --

But this is not last time.

My breath halts.

My lord… is that really YOU?

Yes, my priest. It is I.

Red:
laughter-worried.gif

“Um… what are you doing here right now? Aren’t you supposed to be in my basement?”

My breath breaks free from its restraints and gallops like a runaway rapidash. HIM… here. Several kilometers from home. The only way HE could have gained so much power in that little time is if --

Yes.

Everything has quieted. The wind, the distant traffic, all of it. All I hear are HIS words.

Ascension is here.

Oh, well that’s totally positive and not ominous at all there.
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Ascension.

The merging of man and god.

The beginning of a new era. The return of the Helixian kingdom. The rising of the houndoom above the mareep.

Now?

Now.

Well, Michi might actually live beyond this chapter after all at this rate with the way that Red is just stopping everything for this connection to Helix here.

I… I don’t know how to react. I mean…

Simply open your eyes and witness.

Open my eyes…

I wish that was as easily done as said. Just parting my eyelids, what’s the problem? Well, it’s the earthshaking terror that, when I do open those eyes, I see nothing. I see the woods and Michi’s body and myself on the ground and nothing else. That this’ll have been some kind of waking dream and nothing more. Another… another delusion like the one that left me strangling that girl against all my intentions. More proof that I’m not stable anymore. Not sane anymore. That I won’t make it until the real ascension, whenever that would come. If it would even come…

Oh, so Red has some level of cognizance that he’s not fully right in the head. I actually don’t remember if he also did that in earlier chapters, but it’s an interesting dynamic there.

Red.

[ ] I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to doubt YOU! But is it really YOU? I guess asking that’s also doubting, but, my lord, I’d hate to worship a false image, a-and I just don’t think I can be sure –

If you want to better juxtapose Red’s whole “apex predator” complex with his whole cowed reaction here, I wonder if it would’ve made sense to get into his head a bit more and show a bit more of that reflexive “not very Houndoom-y” panic playing out here.

Red, open your eyes. I promise I will be there.

I pause to catch my breath before either lack or excess of oxygen scrambles my brain even further.

HE promises to be there. HE has never lied to me before. But whether this is an illusion… only by facing it fully can I know for sure.

Trembling, I force my eyelids apart.

I see Michi’s hand still in my grasp. I see dead needles and gravel on the ground beneath my knees.

He’s really just going to leave her there because fossil mollusk god demanded his immediate attention, huh?

Nothing unusual yet, but I am just staring at the ground.

I withdraw my tongue from the girl's wound and swallow whatever blood is left in my mouth. I put her arm down gently. More blood emerges from the flesh, threatening to overflow in a matter of seconds - but confirming this ascension's authenticity will only take a glance.

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Though I kinda wonder how much of this Red is making up on the spot in his mind, since Helix didn’t articulate what the sign to expect would be, and a more sober-minded Red would understand that this is just Michi’s uncoagulated wound doing uncoagulated wound things.

I place my hands on the ground for stability and look up.

A tall, bearded man of white robes and bronze skin stares back, a gentle welcome in his golden eyes.

It's real.

For a second, I was expecting that to be Bird Jesus there from the aesthetics. I’m surprised that Helix is appearing as a proper human though in Red’s mind as opposed to a more TPP-vibing appearance, but I suppose that it probably works better with the story’s harder-edged theming.

I wheeze in elated relief, throwing myself on the ground before him so fast I almost hit my head.

"There is no longer need for that," the man says, his voice as deep as always. "WE shall soon be as equals."

I’m… not convinced that that’s something you should be looking forward to, red.

WE. The word is pure ecstasy. HIM and I, as one and the same. HIS soul and mine, sharing my flesh.

"Arise, my priest."

I needn't be told twice. I get up and nearly dust myself off before remembering there's no longer any need. Dirt, clothes... a god has no need to worry about any such trivialities.

I did a double-take there since for a second from the “clothes” not mattering mention, I thought that Red was actively in the process of taking his off.

The man - in other words, HE in the form of the first Helixian king, Kohath - steps to me. One would expect an aura of intimidation from a frame like his, but instead, he radiates benevolence. Like a loving father. Or how I'd imagine one to feel, anyway.

Wait, is that an actual thing from TPP mythos, or was that created as a part of this story?

He extends a hand and places it onto my cheek. The warmth of his palm melts away all tension in my body. I lean into his caress. He strokes my skin softly with his thumb, and I find myself so relaxed I can barely keep my eyes open.

"You have served me well," he murmurs, his voice pouring over me like molten caramel. "And now, you have even surpassed yourself - offering to me such a young, fragile specimen."

What does he mean? Michi? I guess I killed her… yeah, I guess I killed a child… it wasn't for HIM, but HE can certainly have her if HE so wishes.

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I guess that means that Red hit an artery with that attempt to nick her arm there. Either that, or he strangled her a bit more thoroughly than he thought.

"To butcher a child means to embody the ruthlessness of a true predator," Kohath continues. "One more than qualified to remake the Helixian Kingdom."

His hand slides down my cheek onto my neck and travels along my arm. Having reached my hand, he takes it into his own, fingers interlocked. His other hand he slips into my hair at the back of my head. His warmth draws me onto him like a magnet - and while I flinch at my loss of control, he makes no motions to reject me. I can hear the beating of his heart, and it’s perfectly calm. The exact opposite of the drumroll in my own chest.

"Now,” he whispers - his breath like wind rustling autumn leaves - “the moment has come to meld US into one."

Red:
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The space between his hand and mine lights up, glowing a soft white. It’s hot, but it doesn’t hurt - in fact, it’s somewhat pleasurable. The glow spreads across his hand, following the veins as if flowing through them.

I wince as a sudden pain slashes across my palm, but Kohath’s embrace stays gentle. A warmth enters my hand through the wound I suppose has formed, and it too begins to seep up my veins - with that same glow. Meanwhile, his hand… begins to dissolve, depleting as the light spreads further.

Wait, did Red just cut himself there, or…? Though I suppose that given that he’s not exactly tethered to reality right now, that he wouldn’t necessarily perceive things as they are actually happening.

He really is flowing into me. He really is merging his body with mine. I’m going to… have HIM inside me, fully. HE will conquer every blood vessel, every cell’s cytoplasm. HE will… saturate me. I will become one with HIM. I will inherit HIS power. HIS control over everything. Anything material and anything immaterial. 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.

The light continues its spread. It crawls up my arm, digging into the muscles and pumping them full of strength unprecedented anywhere in the animal kingdom, unmatched by the strongest of man and mon. This is what just a little part of HIM feels like. HIS full, unfiltered power would surely fry my mortal brain, pop it like a lightbulb burning out - but fortunately that light will soon reach my head, my very consciousness, and elevate my existence to an entirely new level.

He’s rolling around in the dirt and spasming back in real life right now, isn’t he?

The only thing I'll miss - no, I won't miss anything after I've ascended. What I hate to give up now, while corporeal sensations still matter, is this moment.

The light of divinity tingling in my veins. The warmth of Kohath’s embrace, his hand still in my hair. But most important of all is the knowledge that it’s all over. All worry, all strife. No more sleepless nights, no more empty days. No need to hide my true self, no need to fear getting caught. I’m free, free and safe. Safe from the police, witnesses, shrinks, judges, prison, death.

Okay, so what’s going to be the thing that waltzes up and pisses in his cheerios here? Since I’m not convinced that the next 9 chapters are just going to be Red tripping out in ecstasy from this “ascension” with Helix.

Happiness is no longer embedded in stone, needing to be clawed out with fingers bleeding. Instead, everything, every single thing... is finally alright.

I close my eyes and cradle my head on Kohath’s shoulder. I can let each of my muscles relax. HE has rewarded me not only with my deepest wish, but my unspoken desire - simply to be --

He yanks my head back by the hair. I open my eyes to find some answer on his face --

There is no face. There are only eyes, predator’s eyes gleaming yellow, and pitch black flames where his body used to be.

His glare drills into my soul.

AS IF YOU WOULD EVER BE ENOUGH.

Aaaaaand there it is. Lord Helix and his kings are cruel gods indeed.

He shoves me down. I expect to meet his chest, but go right through - there's nothing but air where he used to stand. I break my fall with my palms, sharp little stones in the gravel digging into my skin.

I look up, I look to my sides, I look behind me - but he's nowhere to be seen.

Only pines, spruces, needles, gravel, Michi's motionless body and myself.

"My lo-"

Red: “What… just happened there?”
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I don't even need to finish the sentence to realize I'm talking by myself. [ ]

I…

I don't get it. Why would HE come all the way here just to…

Oh. No. I understand now. It wasn't real. None of it was.

Another spot where it probably makes sense to expand on Red’s thought process here, especially if for a moment he thinks he’s outright been rejected by his god there and is panicking about it.

So in… in reality I'm… I'm still mortal. HE… hasn't expressed HIS readiness to ascend yet. HE still needs to wait for HIS powers to gather. I still need to wait…

...wait, wait, wait. I always have to wait. Just a little more, I tell myself, but a day goes by, a week goes by, a month, a year --

Grains of sand prick me under my fingernails as I form a fist around the gravel. I clench it tighter and tighter, driving the stones deeper into my palms. Hot tears squeeze their way out of my ducts and slip into the thousand creases formed by my agonized face.

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Well, that definitely just sounded painful just reading it.

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 –

I mean… you said it, not me, Red.

No, don't even think it. If you think it, it might be real. You might make it real. You might see that there is no way out of this prison, this lifelong death row, the void that awaits when the brain dies and your thoughts die and you have no way left to make sense of the –

[ ]

Why? Why was this done? Why were we created? Why give us souls? Why put spirit into these machines, why -- are you proud, Third Being? Are you proud of it? This dance you make everyone do -- does it amuse you? Why does a god need to –

[ ]

I roll onto my side and hug my shins. Like a child. I wish I was still a child. I didn't think as much back then. I was…

I kinda wonder if there should be a bit more of a transition between Red’s disjointed thoughts here. Like is there anything particular that gets him to jump from one train of thought to the next one? If so, it’d probably be worth showing off.

I look at Michi over my shoulder. Yeah, I was like her. I sought adventure, experiences, mysteries… and every day I would learn something new. Each dawn had promise, and the world was full of possibilities.

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.

That's my life.

I mean, you could go and get an actual job, just saying. That’d certainly help with not having things to do.

Wait, shit!

I scramble up to my feet and glance around. Luckily, no one’s there, but -- how could I forget? How could it slip my mind that I need to get rid of -- no, don’t even waste time ruminating on that, get to work!

A branch, I need a branch… there’s one, that’ll do. I leap back to Michi and begin to draw the circle, fetching the details of the patterns from my memory and scratching them into the ground, checking them, double checking them… I think it’s finished. All it needs now is activation.

… Red, that’s a tree branch. Are you sure that these ‘disintegration circles’ aren’t just how you parsed dousing bodies in gasoline and setting them on fire or something?

I pull out my knife and prick the tip of my little finger. A droplet of blood emerges slowly, like a reptile slithering out into the spring morning after a long hibernation, and I flick it down into the little circle at the edge of the ring. As soon as the grooves light up with a matching red glow, pang of regret seizes my heart.

… Well then, maybe this circle will actually work after all.

It doesn’t want Michi erased. It wants to keep her. She was extraordinary, she should be preserved. But I can’t. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t keep her around for a second longer - each second is a second closer to getting caught. She needs to go. I can’t even take a part of her, too bloody. Even her clothes would be suspicious. But why not --

I lunge at her and grab a lock of her pink hair. As soon as I’ve cut it free, I leap back out of the circle and take a few extra steps just to be sure. The light has spread halfway through the ring. I still had time to spare, but simply knowing what would’ve happened had I gotten caught within makes my heart pound.

In deafening silence, the light completes its journey around the circle and brightens. A membrane of that same washes over the contents of the circle - little Michi’s lifeless body. I take care to burn the image of her into my mind, diligently staring up until the --

Flash.

Huh, so the disintegration circles are real. I suppose that’s something to keep in mind that not everything about Red’s connection with Helix is just in his head.

It hurts my eyes and forces them shut, but at least I can rest assured I fully caught her final moments.

Now she’s gone, and only the pattern remains. A pattern I’ll also have to erase…

No better tool readily available, I kick the ground with my shoes until the pattern has vanished completely. Only then can I catch my breath, sit back down and let my muscles go limp.

Red, you realize that of all your victims you’ve killed up to this point, Michi has the most connections that are going to try and figure out why she abruptly vanished from the face of the earth, right?

I close my eyes for some semblance of rest, but it’s not long before my mind returns exactly where it left off. That void is still there, staring at me, waiting for the moment my life comes to an end so it can swallow me whole. The bottomless pit under this bridge I’m trying to cross, a little tumbledown rope bridge that goes on and on, and all I can do is keep walking in the hopes that somewhere beyond the fog there’s solid ground, my salvation, but just as well it could end in nothing but two endless wooden poles keeping it up, and so I find I was bound to go down no matter what...

No, this is stupid. Nothing’s really changed, has it? Nothing between the start of that… hallucination and the end of it had an effect on my life. So why should I be freaking out? Couldn’t I just go on living like I did before?

You’re about nine dead people too late for that, Red. Just take your blood magic that’s apparently real to some extent and roll with it.

But can I? If a simple trip to the store almost ended in a bloodbath today, what about tomorrow? Will my urges get the better of me and drive me to make whatever fantasy slithers into my mind into a reality, completely blind to the consequences? Then they’ll shoot me dead or lock me up somewhere until death comes… and permanently ruin any chances I have of ascension.

I mean, given that you managed to blunder your way into an unscheduled killing today, that feels like a pretty relevant worry there.

Maybe I should…

No. I can’t bring this up with HIM. I’ve been stretching HIS patience too much already. HIM taking over in the last sacrifice was a good sign, sure, but I know HE still expects me to cast the omanyte out of my heart, and the progress on that has been little to none. Were I to come to HIM with yet another problem with my mind, HE might… HE might revoke my status as Bringer. HE might even consider me unfit to be any kind of predator, and then… I’d be slaughtered like all the other mareep.

I feel like the underlined might have made sense to play up a bit more in Red’s thought process earlier. Like I get it from my memories of the original TPP, but it both feels like something that risks reader lockout and like a part of this story that hasn’t really been played up much up to this point.

Even if HE brushed off my doubts and pain as just side effects to being a predator in this world for prey, HE would likely ask for another sacrifice. I’d fail to get one properly in my current state, and then I’d practically be no better off than in the other scenario.

I sigh. So I’m on my own. It’s not like there’s anyone other than HIM I can talk to about this. And it’s not like they’d understand even if I did. They’d just call me crazy and tell me to get some mental help --

The psychiatrist. Could she possibly…

Oh, well. I think I know who Red’s tenth victim is going to wind up being. :copyka:

No, no, no! You can’t let anyone know. Are you honestly naive enough to believe them when they say what’s discussed is confidential? If you told that psychologist how much you want to cut people open and play with their organs, you’d be dragged over to the nuthouse before nightfall. In what world would a society of caterpie willingly keep a spearow around?

To be fair, talking about wanting to do things isn’t the same as saying you’ve done them. Even if that’s probably very dangerous territory for someone as unbalanced as Red is right now.

Faced with another dead end, I open my eyes and let the features of the sky take over my mind for a change. The pleasant blue, the tufts of white, the invisible wind they drift around on…

It’s strange how calm they make me.

Cue the theme song:

View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wuJIqmha2Hk


Why, if I had the ability to fly to the clouds in the blink of an eye and look down upon the world, breathing the thin, freezing air without harm, my problems with rage would vanish. Seeing humans for the ants they really are… why would I care about anything they have to say?

Wait. What’s stopping me now?

I am a human. An intelligent creature. Perhaps previously in a more primal stage emotions were necessary to guide us into better survival strategies, but now we can understand the world around us. We can make decisions based on logic, not raw emotions.

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Since you’ve been doing such a fantastic job at operating on logic and not raw emotion this chapter, Red.

It's precisely what HE teaches as well. Primitive social instincts have outlived their usefulness. What used to help keep tribesmembers alive and offspring cared for has been made obsolete by rational thought. Now all it can do is stay in our way. It prevents us from letting the inferior die. It prevents us from consuming each other's flesh when starving. It stifles our progress in service of made up moralities, rules that no god truly enforces.

But I happen to be one of the lucky few to have been born as the next stage of human evolution. A being that can see through these illusory rules and act without care for them. An efficient being. A free being. And if I have the freedom to choose how I think, why couldn’t I choose to drop the emotions that harm me and keep the emotions that give me strength? Peace, joy, relief… an existence knowing only these feelings can't be that bad to live.

Red: “Whoever teed up the ELO earlier really did me a solid, since I’m feeling more positive already.” ^^

Then again... if it were that easy, I would have done it ages ago. In reality, my lack of control was bad enough to make me give up on school and, by extension, any kind of normal future. I had to leave before I did something that would’ve made things even more difficult for myself...

Leave. Give up. That’s what I did. I ran away from the problem. And have I ever faced it head-on since? No. Ever since I left school, I’ve only avoided social interaction to the best of my abilities.

That actually makes me wonder if Red has had a stint on Mt. Silver in this continuity, or if he has not gotten to that point yet.

No wonder I only seem to have gotten worse. I’ve had no practice. No exposure to strengthen my immune system, so to speak. As much as I hate to admit it, getting out there might just be what I need. Socializing. Disguising myself as simply another human. It is a trait a predator must have, lest he be torn apart by the herd he is infiltrating.

Yeah. I need to get myself into situations I’ve shied away from and learn to maintain a calm exterior no matter how fiercely I want to rip them all apart. Handle things as a gentleman would, even. Convince the others I’m a stand-up guy. It could help to dispel suspicion, too! And, hell - if nothing else, it’ll be something to do. Beats sitting bored at home.

Uh… yeah, no. Considering how well that went with Michi, you’re probably better off decamping to Mt. Silver.

Though, ironically enough… I think home is the place I’d most like to be right now. It’s been one hell of a day, and I could really use some rest after this whole… thing. And some food, actually. Blood isn’t exactly filling.

I’m sorry, how do you know this again, Red?
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I get up. The wind in the trees enters my consciousness again, and it drives me to draw a deep breath of the fresh air around me. I feel my lungs expand, then deflate. Again. A serene rhythm of back and forth, like waves on a shore. All while the heart beats with a pace of its own, pumping that wondrous, hot blood throughout the body.

I guess this corporeal form is one thing I can be happy about. Not only did I luck out on my genes, I’ve brought out their full potential with diligent training. I’m quite close to the best a meager human can be. Once I add a few enhancements post-ascension, I’ll be perfect.

Assuming that you don’t wind up whiffing the moment of truth since after getting blueballed enough times, would you even recognize the real moment of ascension when it comes, Red?

That’s right. I will ascend. Maybe it will end up taking another week, another month, another year - but I will persevere, only honing myself further during the wait.

I step forth as if facing the entire world, head held high and pride burning in my chest. Within my mind, I shout from the mountaintop:

I am the Bringer, and I will let nothing stand in my way.

Well, that sounds like tempting fate if I ever heard it, since you’re not free from this saga for another 9 chapters.

Well… that was, something. It was definitely a bit of a trip to see that Red, as tenuous as his grip on reality at times is, apparently isn’t wrong about Helix and his demands being a thing given that he apparently poofed Michi’s dead body out of existence. Probably. Maybe. It’s a bit hard to tell since he’s the definition of an unreliable narrator, but it’s my baseline assumption that that actually happened. I’ll admit that I was a bit caught-off guard by there being a straight-up child murder in the chapter, even if it ultimately was handled in a less visceral (as far as we know) method than I was expecting. Though I commend you for taking an established premise and not taking a cheap cop-out from keeping Red from doing things he logically would with his mindset. You also did a pretty good job at getting into his head, which was… uh… more than a little unsettling see play out, but it certainly is a very different experience from anything that I can recall another author trying, and the prose is definitely quite crisp and fluid.

I don’t have a whole lot of criticisms to level for this chapter. It’s an inherently polarizing premise that readers will either enjoy reading or they won’t, but you knew what you wanted to do in it, and it was mechanically very well-done. The minor bones that I have to pick really relate to content that wasn’t there in the chapter at the time that I read it. I found a couple of points where I kinda wish we had gotten to see more of Red’s thought process play out and better sell the sense of chaos and turmoil within, with the moment where he is rejected by Kohath being one of the main standout moments where I thought going a bit more into his head would’ve improved things.

I’m admittedly not really sure where things will wind up going from here, since on a surface level, all of Red’s immediate problems were resolved, even if the chapter list clearly indicates that something will come along to mess things up. Though I hope that the feedback from this review was enjoyable, @canisaries , and best of luck with your present writings.
 

canisaries

you should've known the price of evil
Premium
Location
Stovokor
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. inkay-shirlee
  2. houndoom-elliot
  3. yamask-joanna
  4. shuppet
  5. deerling-andre
  6. omanyte
  7. hizzap
Wait, she’s able to scream through her gag right now?
I assume that I meant a muffled scream, since you can still make one of those as long as your nostrils are open. Dunno, it's been a while.

I feel that the logic behind “I can’t just strangle her”, which is apparently something that is firmly out of bounds for Red here ought to be communicated more firmly. Like my assumption is that it’s some flavor of “because Lord Helix demands it”, but “strangling Michi and then disintegrating her body that didn’t bleed buckets everywhere” feels like a pretty straightforward solution to Red’s problem here. Given that he’s already halfway there to completing things, it probably makes sense to communicate what in his thought process is making him jump through all these extra hoops of not taking the simple solution to his problems.
Yeah, I take it that there’s more than a little bit of a “me” angle here for Red insisting that his kills need to be bloody given that this could literally be over with about an extra minute of pressure on Michi’s throat.
Yeah, it's basically just Red being a diva and not considering strangling being a "proper" kill since it doesn't let him play with the funny blood.

Wait, is that an actual thing from TPP mythos, or was that created as a part of this story?
Kohath and the Helixian Kingdom as a whole are my original addition to the lore! I have to admit that Kohath's introduction is pretty sudden and jarring, but I'm not sure if there's a moment prior in the story where mentioning him first would have made more sense.

I feel like the underlined might have made sense to play up a bit more in Red’s thought process earlier. Like I get it from my memories of the original TPP, but it both feels like something that risks reader lockout and like a part of this story that hasn’t really been played up much up to this point.
Really? I felt like the 'I have to sever my attachment with the omanyte' thing was established pretty clearly before, especially in the first chapter.

That actually makes me wonder if Red has had a stint on Mt. Silver in this continuity, or if he has not gotten to that point yet.
Since I don't think this properly comes up in the story, I can tell you now: this Red did not spend a notable time on Mt Silver, instead only showing up there to have his battle with AJ (the protagonist of Twitch Plays Pokémon Crystal, the sequel stream). And given Helix was first killed there (He got better), Red really hasn't wanted to go back.

Huh, so the disintegration circles are real. I suppose that’s something to keep in mind that not everything about Red’s connection with Helix is just in his head.
It was definitely a bit of a trip to see that Red, as tenuous as his grip on reality at times is, apparently isn’t wrong about Helix and his demands being a thing given that he apparently poofed Michi’s dead body out of existence. Probably. Maybe. It’s a bit hard to tell since he’s the definition of an unreliable narrator, but it’s my baseline assumption that that actually happened.
If you'd said this like a year ago or so, I would have probably gotten upset and insisted that HELIX is real in the story and was always meant to be real in the story - which is still accurate - but nowadays I have become aware that it is more likely my own failing not to make it clear from the beginning that HELIX is, in fact, real. (Technically, the alternate prologue does confirm that blood magic works, but it's the poopy worse prologue of the two that I tell people not to read unless they're too squeamish for the orifinal prologue.) It's just a fact that when a reader sees a character who is clearly mentally unstable worship a god that's never on screen or explicitly confirmed to have affected the world, they're going to assume the god's existence is at the very least ambiguous.

I would try to find a way to edit the story to allow for this, buuuuuut I've promised myself not to touch this story anymore outside, like, typo fixes, in order to avoid tinkering with it ad infinitum (it has had two full start-to-end revisions). The feedback I get, though, is still very much appreciated, and will teach me more about storytelling for future projects.

Thanks for the in-depth review, and especially for being civil despite the whole "not my thing" thing. I do wonder if I ought to provide another option for people to read outside HH when participating in Catnip given how, as you said, polarizing the story can be, lol. Anyway, thanks again, and see you around.
 

Joshthewriter

Charizard Fan
Location
Toronto
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. charizard
Alright, here for chapter 6! (I know it’s late, I’m a sleepy boi).

I refreshed myself with the story up to this point. Much more humour than i remember. It’s black gallows humour, but it still be funny as hell.

Without further ado…

’Looks back at fic’

Yeah I got nothing for what’s going on here. I am confused about Red apparently being a dragonair all of a sudden.

the aura in my jewels
I am in absolute stitches, the narration is just as strong as ever. “Aura in my jewels” might be my new favourite saying lol.

And then it grinds to a half in the best way. I think I’ve said it before, but you are phenomenal at the “hol’up” moments and having the narrative hitch while Red grapples with whatever psychosis he’s dealing with.

Oh my god, he was disassociating. Vivid as hell, and fitting for Red it has him killing and eating things. I do like this bit. Especially of note is Red seeing his omanyte (name escapes me rn) and hesitating before the chomp. Red definitely is a piece of work, but he has these glimpses of humanity in him that make him so utterly compelling.

Oh shit! I was fully on board with Red walking out of the funeral. But it’s Joanna’s funeral. You had me completely agreeing with Red’s “Well I’ll just leave” before ripping the rug out from beneath me.

Not entirely certain that this isn’t still a dream, with Red apparently being called on to speak. Thats definitely not what I expected, though there is still time for Red to… pull a Red.

Red’s in all white?!?!?? What an asshole. It tracks though. Doesn’t disprove that this is a dream either.

Oh yeah, it’s a dream. A freaky “punishment for your sins” dream at that. Can’t say it’s not deserved, Red. You did literally eat a person.

I do like that you didn’t have Red come to realize that this was all a dream as well until after he was woken up. I love the protest “this isn’t legal” like that would stop anyone who knew Red ate one of their loved ones. I love that he slipped back into the dream seamlessl. This entire sequence feasted here, a truly amazing dream sequence.

I really do have to give props to the symbolism of Red tearing out his own heart. So perfect for the character and a fitting representation of where he is right now.

The banal worries of chores after something like that dream is another feather in your cap. i like that Red just throws himself into the work because that’s what he’s supposed to do. He so laser focused on fitting in even when he doesn’t that he doesn’t question the tangents his mind wanders on while he goes about relatively mindless work.

Down at the beach, Red seems intent on gambling with his freedom but the officer really has no clue. Red’s better than he thinks he is, while at the same time bumbling his way into blindingly simple mistakes.

Fantasizing about exactly how you’d kill a person in a way that it seems sexual probably does help other people who can feel that you’re looking at them some kinda way. There’s very overt sexual tones to it, kinda makes me think that Red is passing off his longing looks as sexual attraction and it works for the most part.

And, this must be Samson, who I’ve heard so much about! Glad to meet him!

Red definitely isn’t though, and it goes horribly wrong (as seems to be usual for Red) The moment he opens his mouth.

One last thing, I found Red’s “maybe a giratinist” bit was delightfully funny. not a comedy continues to be funnier than most comedies.
 

ShiniGojira

Multiversal Extraordinaire
Location
Stranded In The Gaps between Multiverses
Pronouns
He/him/they/her
Partners
  1. froslass
  2. zorua-gojira
  3. salandit-shiny
  4. goomy
Hello! Here for catnip! Hope you're having a nice day!

Summary for Chp 2:

It continues off after Red finds the Yamask. Then a weird little girl comes and he stalks her, he finds out she can sense aura and talk to ghosts and he plans to deal with her sense and Yamask with the power of reading and evil ritual stuff.

Review:

I quite enjoy the chapter, especially with the introduction of Michi. Though I don't know if she'll survive the next two chapters, my gut says she'll probably die considering Red's... redness. I do love the antagonistic role she takes in denying Red of studying the Yamask, and how she shows that she was willing to kill to protect her pals. Hopefully, she'll be a somewhat important character that'll reoccur later on to help deal with Red's murder spree though I don't have high super expectations on her actually surviving so who knows.

Aside from Michi, Red's thoughts on the whole deal during the forest was splendidly dark especially with how he doesn't even blink at the thought of murdering a literal child nor mutilating his wrist to deal with someone's magic sense. It's fun reading a character that's sorta this weird psychopathic maniac who definitely has a few screw loose but isn't insane enough where his thoughts are all jumbled nonsense.

Anyway, here's my line-by-line comments:

Why? How? Of all possible faces, why hers? She wasn’t anyone special, was she? She was just a regular college student. Kind of an introvert, even. Why would she… matter?
That's the real question. Why would being special matter? Like maybe she was going to be special but you took it away from her. I mean, it's not like you were anyone special from the beginning, Red.
But a ghost… how am I supposed to get rid of a ghost?
Welp, guess you gotta pick up an exorcism ritual along with your crazy murder rituals
"I couldn't hurt you even if I wanted to. I can't do any energy-based attacks."
Mysterious ghost child. This is probably a ghost-seer or a ghost herself maybe? Though energy-based attacks could mean she's like an Aura user (if that's a thing in this fic)
Oh Gods. Don’t tell me this ghost… is Joanna?
Huh, I thought he already suspected the ghost was Joanna. Unless this is just him second-guessing it? Honestly I feel like this sentence should be rewritten to be either more of a confirmation or a suspected guess rather than a surprised 'Huh? This ghost is Joanna?'

'cause it feels like he kinda just forgot the whole reason he even stayed around in the first place.
And she can understand them? I guess this Michi isn't just any ordinary girl.
Aw, what gave it away? The fact that it's a little girl running around in a spooky forest with no supervision or the fact that this girl isn't surprised or scared by the ghost?
So,” the girl begins after her long silence, “what brought you to these woods? Where did you come from?”

"Aa, maa. Mah, maah, maah…"

"Ah, I see."
Joanna: I got fucking murdered.
Me, pretending to understand ghost: I see...
What was it, what did she say? Dammit, why does this thing need to talk in wails only? I know some ghosts can speak human language just fine… but this must not be one of them.
Red, cool your jets, pal. It's like a few minutes old. I don't see you speaking ancient Latin fresh out of the womb.
Or the internet… but that’s something I decided to never bother with again after the disastrous consequences of last time. I grit my teeth. Why couldn’t that trauma have just eroded away with time? It’s been six years...
Let me guess, his first step into the internet and he immediately finds 'questionable' content?
Click! A blade springs out. A switchblade.
Tiny, aura-sensitive and willing to kill. Dare I say I was not expecting that.

And that should be it for me! It was a fun read, have a great rest of your day!
 

Spiteful Murkrow

Busy Writing Stories I Want to Read
Pronouns
He/Him/His
Partners
  1. nidoran-f
  2. druddigon
  3. swellow
  4. lugia
  5. growlithe
  6. quilava-fobbie
  7. sneasel-kate
  8. heliolisk-fobbie
Heya, Catnip brought me here again, with the chapter that’s next up from here on Hunter, Haunted apparently being the start of a new arc. I’ll admit that I’m not fully sure what that’ll entail since Red seemed to have all his main problems nicely wrapped up at the end of the last chapter with a bloodsoaked bow, but the chapter listing indicates that that looks are probably going to be deceiving.

Anyhow, let’s just jump right into things and see where things go from here, and get to know this ‘Samson’ a bit better in:

Chapter 6

The air I breathe in is strangely heavy, like water. But I’m not drowning.

It’s dark blue all around, like water. But I’m not drowning.

I float in place, the air supporting my weight, like water. But I’m not drowning.

I guess I must have gills.

I have gills, and I can’t feel my limbs. Am I a fish?

More like an Omanyte considering the meta behind this story.

I curve my spine - it’s become much longer - to see my body beneath me. A scaly tail, flattened to function as a paddle, and two amber gems embedded in its flesh.

I’m much better than a fish. I’m a dragonair. A deepsea dragonair.

Huh, I wasn’t expecting that one. Though are the ‘amber’ gems deliberate? Since I can’t say I can think of any Dragonair sprites canonically that have yel-

images


Right, that’s a thing. It might have also been worth mentioning the pink scales as well somewhere in that description, unless “blue Dragonair with yellow orbs” is just a HH-exclusive subspecies.

I try to fold what used to be my ears, and they’re indeed now fins. I lick my teeth. Sharp, conical. I glance around the dark blue around me and realize that human eyes would never see anything but black.

So this is what it’s like. Color me jealous! I can feel the raw power in this body, the form and musculature that allows a lightning-fast lunge at unsuspecting prey, the aura in my jewels… ugh, phrasing. Either way, this is a killing machine. Perhaps the brain isn’t as sophisticated, but what need for complex thought is there when my purpose is clear and unobstructed? Speaking of…

I’m surprised that Red is feeling this cheery about being hot pink at the moment, since you’d think that would clash with his whole “Houndoom is my spirit animal” shtick that he’s had in past chapters.

Red: “Hey, shut up. Nobody said that killing machines weren’t allowed to be fabulous.”
648431671401644032.webp


I sniff the air. Water. There’s a scent that’s very familiar on the right, very appetizing. Invited to hunt by the trail of blood, I follow it, slithering through the abyss - oh, how wonderful the water feels, flowing past my scales. This is nature celebrating its design.

The scent grows stronger - the wounded prey is nearby. In just moments, I see it. A magikarp. A fateful gash in its tail. It has no idea I’m here. Better strike before it does.

I whip my tail against the waters, springing forth. I open my mouth and bite down hard the moment I feel scales against my tongue.

I take it that we’re not following the anime portrayal of Magikarp and its scales, since that sounds painful if so. ^^;

An explosion of blood. Overwhelming to my sense of taste and smell. The magikarp flails in vain - my teeth have hooked deep into its flesh. I feel its muscles repeatedly flex and relax. The panic of a dying animal. Finally, it stops moving.

Some remaining streak of human thought ponders how I’ll fillet this without hands and cook it underwater, but my instincts soon override it, prompting me to swallow and only chew if I choke. I wince, expecting the scales and fins to rasp my throat bleeding, but all I feel are harmless scratches. A dragonair’s throat must be made of stronger stuff than a human’s.

Can’t tell if this is a dream sequence, or if Red’s having some sort of out of body experience at the moment. Though how often does he have these sorts of moments anyways? .-.

With that first meal, as counterintuitive as it seems, awakens more hunger. This body is much larger than a human’s, after all, and all these muscles need plenty of energy. One small fry won’t fill my belly. I need the entire shoal.

Careful there, Red. Serpents in general slow down considerably after big meals since they’re quite literally weighted down.

Guided by my nose, I find more prey to lunge at and devour. A remoraid, a goldeen, another magikarp. A qwilfish I avoided, for obvious reasons. But I’m still hungry - and honestly, I could use something other than fish now. Maybe a shellder. Though will I be able to break the shell? Maybe I’d be better off finding a staryu.

That sounds like a terrible idea if Staryu are like actual starfish since much of their mass is the equivalent of a skeleton. :copyka:

I smell my surroundings once again, this time ignoring the scents of fish. There’s a faint aroma unlike any of the ones before. That’s it, that’s what I want. I chase the odd but alluring fragrance through the waters, scattering a few schools of little fish in my path.

Oh, if HE could see me now, HE would be so proud. A beautiful, deadly predator hunting to sate his hunger, an image so ancient yet always so elegant. I’m doing my part in the ecosystem, culling the weak to keep the species healthy. Removing the inadequate and fueling myself in the process. Destroying life to perpetuate mine.

Red, just saying, you sound like you’re heavily tempting fate into this ending in a bad trip in like 30 seconds.

The scent grows stronger. My target is close. What’s it going to be? A shining staryu? A diving psyduck? A chubby seel cub separated from its mother? Whatever it is, my teeth will tear it apart. With a smell like this, it must taste amazing. I can’t wait…

Well, that’s totally not a concerning thought process at all there. .-.

Oh, it’s coming from the bottom. From that rock, the little cave within it. Soon I’ll feel that creature’s soft flesh between my jaws, its useless struggles for survival. I slither closer and closer, all the way to the entrance. I’m ready to strike. I plunge my head in, teeth bared. What will I be eating?

Eyes wide as plates stare back. Eyes I know, framed by blue arms and a spiral shell.

Ohai, Helix.

What’s He doing here? It’s not safe out here. If any predator found Him, He’d stand no chance.

A predator like… me.

So I should...

I should. I have no reason not to. I should –

Yes. Go right ahead, Red. Eat.

Red: “
795119682369093724.gif

I’m sorry, but I did hear that correctly, right-?”
Helix:
1021807491589361766.webp


[ ] I… I’m gonna. Just in a second, I’m gonna, I’m just… just getting ready.

Haven’t you been ready your whole life?

I, well, I mean...

Are you saying that there’s something stopping you? That’s not how the Bringer, the Bringer, the Bringer, the Bringer. The Bringer cannot --

Ah yes, time for that bad trip right about now. Though I feel that it might’ve been worth setting the scene a bit more in terms of showing the whole “wait, he’s really here, for the taking, and he wants me to?” sinking in for him.

Something yanks me back. It’s loud, so loud. Around, around, dizzy, there’s a deep, deep darkness in the middle. A whirlpool? The current grabs me and drags me into the abyss --

I gasp. Light. Light blue. Sky. Grass, chairs, people, wind, hands, legs. I’m a human. What?

Oh, I woke up. That was a dream. Okay. So... where am I?

In bed? Or…?
720106605982646283.webp


I’m sitting among a crowd, it seems - a crowd of people in black suits seated on an array of lawn chairs. Some guy is standing at a wooden podium before us, speaking. He’s in black as well. Looks old, sad. Everyone looks sad, actually. What is this, a funeral?

...Actually, yeah. I think it is a funeral.

… He’s at Michi’s funeral right now, isn’t he? :copyka:

But no one I know has died. I don’t recognize these people…

Oh, don’t tell me... Mom dragged me here, didn’t she? Yeah, some distant relative I’d never even met kicked the bucket and still she made me come.

So where is she, then? The seat next to me is empty. Did she ditch me? Ugh, that bitch. Well, guess what? I’m eighteen. I’m a grown man and I get to decide where I go and what I do, and what I’m gonna do now is get the hell outta here.

Red: “Seriously, since when did I ever go to funerals on my own? How on earth did I even get roped into this?” >_>;

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, with less moss on the tombstones and walkways and robust deciduous trees in place of common evergreens…

Wait. Tombstones? Western tombstones, placed so far apart that there must be entire bodies buried underneath? I guess this must be a Western-style graveyard. I didn’t know I had Western relatives…

Well, anyway… it looks like the metal fencing around the around the area is rather high and equipped with a spiked tips, making it between extremely difficult and impossible to climb over. I don’t want to accidentally neuter myself, so I keep looking for a gate, but just can’t seem to find one…

You have a couple of superfluous words here at the moment.

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

...I’m sorry, what did the old guy just say?

I turn around. Everyone’s eyes are on me. He really did just say my name.

Ah yes, Red really is having one hell of a bad trip at the moment. :copyka:

Now… normally, I wouldn’t have any issue with being rude to a bunch of whoevers, but something about these people’s faces is telling me that bailing right in front of them is going to lead to consequences. Of the angry mob kind. And with no easy escape in sight, that would not be pleasant to deal with.

“Mr Akai?” asks the old man.

I guess I should just give the speech. It can’t be that hard if I just stay vague and overwhelmingly positive. That should satisfy the crowd enough.

bender-laughing.gif


I nod to the man, and we exchange positions. I can see more people’s faces now. A lot of pale folk. This really is a Western funeral. Or… wait.

That young Tohjoan guy in the front row, with the long face and short black hair, isn’t that… oh Gods.

This isn’t any relative’s funeral. This is Joanna’s funeral.

Wait, what the hell are you even doing at her funeral, Red? .-.

Okay. Shit, uhh. How do you start a speech? I need to make it good, or at least believable. If Joanna really is the deceased and all of her family is here, I can’t have even a single one get the idea that I wasn’t on terms that great with her, as that would make me a suspect in the case of her disappearance. Although it’s not like I can do that now, can I, having told her brother over there that I didn’t know her at all. Fuck! Where did they even get the idea we were close? Did someone spot me stalking? No, enough thinking! I need to start the speech!

“So, uhh...” Not like that, dumbass! You’re not holding a presentation in front of your classmates, you’re calming a herd of angry tauros pawing at the ground!

I sniffle a bit. “I-I’m sorry, I’m just still so devastated...” I hang my head. “But we all are, aren’t we? She was such a sweet woman, kind to all, and so beautiful, too...”

I hear a whisper from the crowd. “Why’s he wearing white?”

Ah yes, that’s definitely something that you’ll only see in Eastern funerals IRL. Cute little culture clash moment there.

What? I’m not… I am?

Yes, this suit is just like those of all the other men, except for the color. Pure white. White coat, white shirt, white tie. Even the shoes are white. Shit. Do you think I could pretend to be colorblind? No, that’s not how that works. Oh Gods. Well, alright, this is a thing. But I can’t let it distract me. I need to make up for this with my speech.

Red: “Um… I was expecting this funeral to be conducted per local norms? Since in Kanto, traditionally white is a color of mourning, and-”
Minister: “Mr. Akai, kindly continue on with your speech.”
1212912920971841626.webp


“She was a bright young woman, independent, supportive of her friends and family…” I try to remember some real life example that I’d witnessed while stalking her, but the only thing I can think of at the moment is her lying on the floor eating cheese snacks while watching some weird, weird anime on her TV. Uhh.

“She was a girl who knew how to have a good time.”

Red: “... That came out wrong, didn’t it?”
659983090747441181.webp


Whispers. Agitated ones. A commotion! Wh-what did I do wrong? “Oh Gods, I didn’t mean that she slept around or --”

One word keeps popping up. ‘Pocket’.

I look down, and the left pocket of my pants - it’s stained red. Blood red.

Yup, this is another dream sequence, I can already tell.

The crowd stares at me with wide eyes, expecting an explanation, but I’m just as lost as them. I haven’t hurt myself. I haven’t put anything in there. I can only reach my fingers in and pull out…

A lock of hair. Covered in sticky, slimy blood, but its original color can still somewhat be seen.

Pink. Michi’s hair.

Red: “What the hell, why is this even here?! I strangled her!”
401076862924750848.webp

Audience:
648431671401644032.webp

Red: “Um… did I say ‘strangled’? What I meant to say was-”
401074476474957834.webp


But why would it bleed? No, why would it be there in any case? Why would I bring evidence of a murder to a funeral? No, why would I be at the funeral of the woman I killed in the first place?

“Get him.”

Red:
giphy.gif


Who said that? It made everyone stand up. And now they’re approaching. Oh Gods, I gotta get out of here. No, doesn’t running incriminate me further? They still don’t have anything to actually prove I killed Joanna. Do they? They shouldn’t, but they walk like they do and the wild, furious gleam in their eyes sure says they want blood for blood! I need to run! I turn around and --

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 a 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. Why is it this strong? It’s basically cutting off my circulation!

Oh, hello Cofagrigus. I take it that’s a sign that Joanna’s a bit less dead than expected.

“Let… let go,” I growl, but it falls on deaf ears. If it has ears.

More touches - warm ones, human ones. They grab me. The mob has caught up. A sea of black suits.

Th-this isn’t legal!” I shout as a last, desperate attempt to sway their minds. Trouble from the cops - it’s what keeps me from killing blindly. But not for these people, it seems. They’re animals. Animals trampling me.

Oh, the irony of a serial killer attempting to hide behind the law for trying to shield themselves from consequences.

They tighten their hold and pull me back. For what? A pummeling? A public execution?

The coffin before me creaks, its cover slowly opening. The crowd watches, still. What’s in there? It can’t be Joanna’s body. There’s nothing left of that. And if there was, they certainly wouldn’t show it.

Crimson velvet lines the coffin’s interior. How royal. But that’s not what we’re looking for. Something glimmers on the inside of the cover. Metal. Sharp. And then the cover opens fully and I see it clear as day.

Needles. Thousands of thin, long needles sticking out.

Ah yes, that’ll bring out the inner trypanophobe in just about anybody.

No. No, they can’t. I scream that at them, but the crowd pushes me forward, right towards the velvet lining. I wriggle, flail, resist as strongly as this body can allow, but they’ve got hold of so many places that any movement left possible is absolutely pathetic.

I’m shoved. Velvet on my face, palms. Yet they’ve let go. Can I still run? I turn around to leap out, but the ghostly hand awaits me, slamming its freezing palm right at my heart and pushing me back. Wrists, ankles - frozen too, held to the back of the coffin. The crowd, all of them smile. In the front, Joanna’s brother. He grabs the edge of the cover. No. No, don’t --

He slams the lid onto me.

Joanna’s Brother:
kevin-wave.gif


Every needle, each and every one, punctures my skin, eyes, teeth, rips through the flesh and crushes the bone as instinct tears one final, ear-splitting scream from my bleeding lungs.

You have some pluralization errors here, since the verb talks about what each individual needle does as to opposed to what ‘the needles’ in plural do.

Pain. Purest pain I’ve ever felt. Every nerve blaring at the brain of the hell brought upon the body, unobstructed by any other signals as I go blind and deaf.

No pain.

No pain now. Only black, empty, silent, cold, wet. Any darkness from before - nothing compared to this.

Red: “Did. Did I just die?
401074476474957834.webp


Am I… dead? Is this the afterlife?

Will it be like this forever?

Thump, thump, thump, thump --

No, this isn’t nothingness, something’s coming!

Golden light rips a hole in the darkness -- it’s coming for me!

“Red?”

Time for him to shoot up in his bed for real.

Red…? Human… speech? There’s a human figure in that light…

And where I am, it’s not empty. Something’s beneath me. Soft. It warms my hands. And my heart beats. If I have a heartbeat, I live. I have my body. So where am I?

Oh. [ ]

I hide my left arm behind me. Abe can’t see the bandage.

I think that it probably makes sense to explicitly say something along the lines of “I’m at home / I’m in bed” as Red snaps back to reality here.

“Are you okay?” Abe asks, shaggy hair hanging in front of his eyes. The absence of his glasses, as always, makes his eyes seem weirdly small.

I take a moment to catch my breath. My lungs are intact and well. Thank the Gods.

“It’s okay,” I reply. “Just had a bad dream.”

[ ]
“...You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright...” The boy in the frame hesitantly backs away and closes the door. “Good night,” he still says from outside before leaving for his own room with quiet steps.

I think it might be worth showing off either Abe or Red’s reaction, or both in this sequence. Even if it’s something as simple as Red not being able to make out Abe’s reaction clearly but noticing that he’s pausing or something like that.

I pull my left arm back from hiding and sigh. As the exhaled air hits my bare chest, I realize how wet I am from my own cold sweat. My heart still beats at record pace. Otherwise, though, I seem to be fine.

press-x-to-doubt-la-noire.jpg


Maybe washing my face and a quick walk around will calm me down, convince my brain the danger is gone. I pry myself out of my bed. Ugh, my underwear’s glued to my skin. Maybe I should just sleep in the nude for the rest of the night.

Just how much were you sweating earlier, Red? .-.

I make my way to the bathroom and turn on the lights. The brightness smacks me in the face, stripping away most of my drowsiness. My steps are sticky on the tiles beneath my feet, but soon I reach the warmer, softer carpet in front of the sink. I turn on the tap and splash some lukewarm water to my face, neck and chest. Feels good. Well, pretty average, but after that dream, I’m just glad not to be in pain anymore. You know, I never did believe those people that say you couldn’t feel pain in your dreams. I guess they just get off easy and can’t comprehend other people going through something worse. Assholes.

Ah yes, priorities™.

I take off my underwear and toss it into the laundry basket. After cleaning away the worst of the sweat, I close the tap and grab a towel, the pecha-colored one. I dry myself off - oh, it’s warm, fuzzy, dry… sticky… red?

That’s... blood. That’s blood on the towel. Where did it…

I glance at the mirror above the sink to see my body, but my body, it’s -- red too. Bloody. Full of holes. So many small, deep, black holes. Puncture wounds. No skin is left. Only torn muscle, shattered teeth, deflated eyes, dripping vitreous humour, blood, that’s really bad, that’s really fucking bad, I’m gonna go blind, what will I do without my sight, I’ll be helpless, useless -- but wait a second now, wait a second, how am I seeing all this if my eyes are…

It’s called that it’s not really happening, Red.

...Oh, oh, I’m still dreaming. That’s obvious. The jagged mess of teeth of the reflection twists into a smile. This isn’t real. I must’ve fallen asleep again after Abe left. Haha. It’s just… it’s just my mind again.

I look down at my chest, the sight matching the man in the mirror. Gods, I’m so fucked up right now. I hope that goes away soon, I don’t want to have to clean this blood.

How often has Red had dreams like this given that his reaction is basically “oh, this again”? .-.

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 a 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.

Well, whatever. Since it’s certainly not going to stick to my insides anymore, I leave it in the sink. I head back to my own room and climb back in my bed, hoping to sleep off the dream.

Small missing word in the first paragraph of this block here.

I’m sorry, what?

I already knew before that the dream was bizarre, but now it's really dawning on me. A coffin coming to life and killing me… I guess my mind took some inspiration from that evolved form of yamask, cof… cofagrigus, I think. Hmh. And then the dream progressed to a fake wakeup...

Hold on. I don’t have my underwear on. But I took them off inside the dream, not outside it. Did they slide off somehow?

Red: “... How on earth does that even happen anyways?”
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After a brief search of my bed, it seems they didn’t. So maybe some of the dream was real and I was sleepwalking? Eh, must have been something like that. Can’t have all been real, given I’m still alive and not bloody all over.

Are you sure those were all dreams and you weren’t hallucinating some of it?

At least there was that other dream before the funeral, the one where I was a dragonair. It felt so good to get to kill things again. Makes me hungry for some fish, actually. But then it had to go and transition to the funeral… how did that happen again? I was tracking something new and then I found…

Fuck. No. It was… dammit. So much for fond memories of that dream.

I take it that killing Helix is some sort of high blasphemy or something in Helixian religion from the way that Red is reacting to “oh yeah, Helix commanded me to eat him”.

But it's alright - it was precisely a dream and nothing else. In real life, I would've…

In real life I wouldn't end up in such a situation to begin with. HE wouldn't have me kill the omanyte, that's directly against HIS interests. My job is to protect the omanyte as it's a valuable asset. Not killing it in my dream was only wise! It needs to stay alive…

Red: “Ugh. I suppose that’s a sign that I should go and see that therapist again.” >_>;

Oh, screw thinking about this. It's pointless. I should get my day started instead. It's a big day, too. First day of exposure therapy. I can get a fresh look at my problems and begin to systematically work them out. Yes, this is the day I really turn my course for the better. It's gonna be tough, but rewarding. When I get home at the end of the day, I'll feel like my lounging around is really earned. That things are how they should be.

Red, don’t make me post that gif of Bender again. Since you and I both know that this isn’t going to go anywhere fast.

That synthetic excitement injected into my veins, I march off to my morning chores. They transpire the same way as usual with perhaps a little more care put into washing my hair - but as I approach my cupboard, I realize I must diverge from the known path.

‘Clothes make the man’ is what many people say, and to an extent even the Helixians agreed. It’s clear from the visions HE gave me that Kohath dressed like the king he was, which was admittedly more modest back in the Bronze Age, but still involved more impressive clothing than the everyman.

So we’re going to see Red in a suit this chapter, or…?

I recall being described as ‘looking like a rapist’ back in my high school days in some overheard girl talk, so it would probably be smart to dress a little nicer if I am to go out and socialize without getting the cops called on me. But that brings up a problem…

I dig through my wardrobe and my suspicion is confirmed. All the fancier clothes I can find are too small for me. Makes sense as my mother stopped forcing me to shop for clothes with her years ago, and the ones I’ve bought since have all prioritized comfort. So will I actually have to go shopping for clothes today? Or maybe…

Red: “... Maybe I could buy them online? They sell clothes online nowadays, right?” ^^;

I’m surprised that I’ve never gone through my mother’s drawers before looking for clothes that could have belonged to my father, but I suppose there’s no time like the present. If he had a frame like mine, they might just fit.

I make my way downstairs and head for the main bedroom. Crossing the floor to the cupboards, I keep an eye out for any quills Fonz may have shed. I restrain myself from looking at the omanyte’s aquarium. I’m too busy for those thoughts.

That sounds like a prime reason to maintain a set of indoor slippers for going around the house, just saying, Red.

Finding men’s clothes turns out to be easy - not because there’s many of them, but because there aren’t that many clothes in the first place. 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 managed to fit them all in that apartment is beyond me.

Oh, so Red’s parents no longer live in Pallet Town, huh? Since I distinctly remember the games being set in a detached house there.

Either way, this confirms that she lived together with my father for some amount of time, which in turn means she knows his identity and how he exited the picture but just refuses to tell me. 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.

Oh, so Red just straight-up doesn’t know who his father is. I wonder how on earth he managed that in an age when there’s casual internet access at minimum in public libraries.

Let’s not kid ourselves, though. He’s probably dead, a box of ashes and bones in the ground. Which is a shame - I would’ve liked to know which of my traits I inherited from him. There’s a possibility he was a predator, too, a very clever one at that to be able to manipulate my mother into a relationship and having a child with him. I haven’t felt that need to spread my genes myself, but I hear it’s very common, and it only makes sense when thinking from a biological standpoint.

inb4 he fell off the face of the planet because of something to do with Helix, since clearly something happened such that finding any trace of him is apparently very hard for Red to manage.

But no matter how great he could have been, he’s the reason I’m here. That alone makes me want to deck the fucker.

Ah yes, clearly Red has a complicated™ relationship with life considering how he resents his father for granting him life.

I shake those thoughts and try on one button-up shirt. To my surprise, it fits like a glove. Guess my old man worked out, too. Bet my mom liked that.

Wait, is this the same shirt as in that one art of HH!Red in more formal clothes, or am I tripping?

I move to the bathroom and check myself out in the mirror. Damn, looking good -- well, the hair’s still a mess. I rinse my fingers and swipe back my hair. My widow’s peak is exposed. More like widowmaker’s peak… is what I would say, had I ever killed married men.

Yeah, don’t hold your breath on that one, Red. Since I saw what you said internally about how your high school classmates used to talk about the way you looked.

I grab a hairbrush from the mirror cabinet. It’s covered in loose brown hair - practically every tooth has a strand wrapped around it. Does Abe use this on his hair or a tangela? Ugh. I find a comb instead and run it through my hair until I run out of tangles. Finally, I comb my bangs to the sides and close the cabinet to see my reflection again.

Wait, Tangela have hair in this setting? ^^;

Wow. Now that’s a metamorphosis. The man in the mirror has transformed from an under-bridge raticate to a street-strutting, show-stopping ninetales. No one would guess that this stand-up citizen killed women, took their tongues and stored them in jars in his basement.

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I mean, just saying, you’re not exactly an impartial judge there, Red.

Of course, there’s something still missing - the thing that everyone says is the most important. It’s never been that natural to me, but if I am to become a social butterfree, it’s something I have to master.

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

There it is. Peak deception.

inb4 it still looks like a transparent slasher smile :copyka:

“Morning, Abe.”

In the split second after he had turned to me, I saw fear in his eyes - the very primal fear we feel after witnessing something we consider impossible. Then, as his brain came up with multiple scenarios that could indeed lead to an event like this, the fear was replaced by curiosity, but it waited just long enough to let him smile and greet me back before he had to spit out the question burning in his throat.

“What are you all dressed up for?”

You sure you’ve got that ‘gentle’ shtick down if you’re freaking out your roommates, Red? :copyka:

“Well, nothing in particular,” I hum as I make my way to the kitchen table where he sits. “Just decided to try it out. What do you think?”

[ ]

“You look great.”

Damn straight I do. “Thanks,” I answer as etiquette demands, then head for the door. “I’m going out. Might still be out by the time you get back from school, so don’t be surprised.”

“Alright,” Abe says, “have fun.”

Unless the idea is that Red didn’t pick up on Abe’s reaction since he’s too busy being off in his own world where he’s dapper and suave, it might have been worth him noticing Abe’s reaction, even if it was obviously through a very biased lens.

“Bye,” I shout and exit - but right after I've closed the door, I freeze in realization.

I took my knife with me. I didn't even think twice about it. It felt so natural, so right, but having a weapon like that on my hip… won't it scare people away? Shouldn't I leave it at home?

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Leaving aside any legality issues that would crop up IRL, this screams “guy who goes into the boonies” and not the sort of dapper and suave vibe that you are trying to go for here.

It sounds like the smart thing to do, but the thought of walking around without anything to defend me sends shivers all around my body. 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. Or get seriously injured in a way that disqualifies me from the position of Bringer.

I can't let that happen! Everyone else will just have to learn to deal with my blade. I'm allowed to carry it, dammit. I'm allowed to protect myself. The knife stays and that's that.

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I do wonder though if the paragraph here is dense enough that it ought to be split into two parts.

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 water wasn't still cold, it'd be a fantastic day to go out to the beach.

Actually… maybe a few people have decided to go out and test the waters. There might be a considerable crowd over there, which means plenty of opportunities to strike up conversations.

That's where I'll head, then! It's been quite a while since I went to the beach, anyway. Maybe I'll spot some wildlife while I'm there, too. Something I'm actually interested in.

So much for going to the beach to go and chat, since I can already tell that Red’s going to go spotting Pokémon and get into more predator fantasies. ^^;

I navigate my way to the southward shore with the help of familiar knowledge and street signs, making sure to maintain perfect posture on every street regardless of the amount of onlookers. The scent of the sea fills the air. Soon enough, the building and trees make way for the big blue and sandy brown.

Nobody’s there. The beach is empty. This, of course, makes sense very quickly as I remember that it’s the morning of a weekday.

Well, whatever. I can still hang out for a while. It’s nice here.

Red: “... Prooobably would’ve dressed more casual if I knew this place was going to be deserted, though.”
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I step off the road and make my way past the grass and onto the wooden walkways, not wanting to drag my pant legs through the sand. Each step makes a nice clack. I look around to focus on the people that are there - yes, there are some people, it’s just that there was basically no one at first glance. Like that woman in a blue uniform over there.

Would recommend italicizing the SFX of Red’s footsteps.

Wait. Blue uniform. 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.

This right here... this is actually the perfect opportunity for me. What better way to prove my calm than by confronting my worst threat face to face?

Red, do you have any idea how much you’re tempting fate right now?

I set my course for the woman in blue leaning against the wooden railing. Next to her sits a large pile of cream-colored fuzz - an RK9 unit. As I approach, it’s the one to pick me up first, perking up its ears and then turning to me with a reserved look. The human, having noticed her partner’s motion, faces me as well. I study her Unovan features, gray-green eyes and auburn ponytail and imprint them onto my memory. Now that I’m being social, I’ll have to get good at remembering faces.

Oh, so if you’re not connected to Red’s kill list or in his immediate monkeysphere, you’re basically a background NPC. Since he sure seemed to remember the face of Joanna’s brother well… probably. Maybe. Might have just been an imagined face.

“Good day, officers,” I greet, hands out of pockets and relaxed at my sides even if the right one keeps wanting to touch the scabbard.

“Good day to you too,” says the woman, smiling, adjusting her cap. The arcanine gives a brief wag of its tail.

“Making sure the beach is safe?” I ask her, walking over to the railing and leaning on it.

“No, they’ve got life guards for that,” she chuckles. “We’re just spending our break here.”

That actually makes me wonder given his whole Houndoom motif, how Red sees Arcanine. Since they’re bigger, stronger, and also associated with his one-time rival back in his stint getting TPP-ed around Kanto.

I nod, then look the arcanine in its deep brown, alert eyes. Its black nostrils quiver. What are you smelling there, sweetheart? Nothing but wool? Thought so...

“Brave of a fire type to venture so close to the sea,” I remark. Its expression loses a bit of kindness.

I take it that’s a sign that the Arcanine understood that remark and is busy
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-ing over it.

“If she wasn’t brave, she wouldn’t be a cop,” responds the woman, ruffling her partner’s neck fur, the fluff engulfing her entire hand. “Ain’t that right, Wendy?”

“Yeah,” the mon mumbles. I guess she was offended somehow? Whatever.

Just saying, this isn’t boding well for your planned experiment in being a socialite given how you’re already striking out with this woman’s doggo.

A second of silence passes. Another. I should say something.

“Is it busy over at your station right now?” Better than nothing.

“A bit, yeah.” The woman looks at the sea. “Have you bumped into those people walking around showing a picture of their missing relative?”

Oh? Now this is interesting. “Once, yes.”

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I can already tell what that was like.

“We keep telling them we’re doing everything we can, but I guess it’s hard for them to just stand around and wait. Can’t blame them for trying, even if it’s very unlikely they’ll get any kind of clue so late...”

“I hope they do.” Because I’m a person who loves happy endings. I wish no one would ever have to suffer or die. The thinking process of a sadist absolutely eludes me.

Lol. Lmao. I like how Red can be so completely devoid of self-awareness sometimes.

“Either that, or that they accept defeat. It sounds cruel, but keeping alive false hope isn’t good for the mind.”

“I can get that.” I place my hands onto the railing, one clasping the other. “What do you think happened to her?

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Is that deliberate there? Since the officer didn’t say anything about the missing person being female yet.

[ ]

“I’m afraid I’m not allowed to go into that much detail.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

I suppose that’s as far as I can follow that path. I better ask about something broader that she can yap her gums off about, then.

I feel that it is probably worth slotting in some sort of reaction here, either from the officer, or from Red internally realizing “wait, why did I say that?”

“So, there’s something I’ve been wondering...” I begin. “There’s that show on TV, Celadon Police. You’ve probably seen it. How much of that would you say accurately depicts what it’s like to be part of a police force?”

She throws her head back with a groan, and that’s how I know I’ve struck gold. “Ugh, that show -- I hope you’re not too much of a fan, because I hate that show. Well, it’s not like I hate hate it - I don’t wake up each morning and shake my fist at the gods for it existing - but...”

I’m guessing that this is their in-setting equivalent to CSI. :V

Her rant continues from there, and by the amount of tangents, it seems that it won’t be ending anytime soon. I smile and throw generic remarks every now and then to keep her going while my real focus lies elsewhere.

Shining hair. Clear skin. Elegant shape of skull. Her looks and her profession contrast as much as her red locks and the teal sea. How does one keep their appearance that pleasing to the eye while chasing down and wrestling criminals each day? Did I merely catch her at a fortunate moment in time?

… Not sure if I like where this is going, Red… .-.

Though it’s not as if there aren’t details bridging the gap between white and blue collar. I can tell through her uniform that her arms are firm, and a healing scar runs across the back of her right hand.

I get the feeling that she knows I’m eyeing her up. She likely thinks that I’m checking her out. It would fit a narrative, sure - why else would a random person come up to a police officer on their break to simply chat? Little does she know, what I’m wondering is how it’d feel like to grab her by the jaw, unsheathe my knife, drive it through her suit and skin, cleave open her abdominal cavity and rip out her intestines like the stuffing of a teddi plush.

Arcanine:
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Red: “... Right, you’re still here. (Good thing all of that stayed safely in my head…)” >_>;

But I won’t do that. I have the weapon and I have the element of surprise and by the Gods I have the will, but I won’t do it. I know it’d doom my future and probably present as the arcanine would burn me to a crisp. I’ll just keep standing on the edge of this bottomless chasm, smiling at the pit and receiving a smile in return. So go on, honey, keep talking. I can’t get enough of this feeling of control…

Yeah, I figured that that would be a damper on Red’s eagerness to take a swing. To say nothing about how the officer is likely trained to subdue armed assailants.

“Ronnie?”

Oh fuck, what was that?

I find the source of the voice near the road - some guy, also Unovan, coming here. Blond, bulky, pretty tall. Another cop, but off duty and out of uniform? Wait. That necklace. Is that...

The woman gasps. “Samson!” She nearly frolics to him, but the man beats her to it. As he approaches, I see the golden pendant hanging from his neck more clearly, and yes, it’s the Wheel of Arceus.

Ah, that’s Samson. I can already see how he’s going to be a headache for Red here.

A fucking Arcean.

“So it is you!” he says, reaching the walkway and hopping on the planks. Some sand flings onto my shoes, and I quickly kick it off - but it doesn’t seem like the man noticed. Fine, I guess I won’t bring it up, since I’m supposed to be all sociable and shit.

Red:
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“And is this Wendy?” he asks the arcanine, who nods, leisurely wagging her tail. “Oh my goodness, you’ve grown so much!”

“A hundred and fifty kilos of fluff and fury,” says Ronnie, ruffling Wendy’s fur again, now more aggressively.

Big pupper is big. I can already see Red subconsciously inching away right now.

“You were just a growlithe when I last saw you, weren’t you?” said Samson, scratching behind the arcanine’s ear. “When was that, anyway? Shaymin’s Grove?”

“Shaymin’s Grove, yeah! We were assistants there.”

“Right!”

Wonder if that’s a beat location or some sort of restaurant.

I ponder whether I should chime in to remind them of my presence, but fortunately that proves needless.

"Oh, sorry," says Samson, directing his gray-blue eyes at me. "Who's your friend?"

Ronnie waves her hand. "Oh, just a stranger that came up for a chat. I don't know him any more than that."

Red: “Well, she’s not wrong... (though did she need to say it like that?)” >_>;

“Oh, sorry to have interrupted you.” His tone is enragingly earnest. This guy’s a real people pleaser. A mareep among mareep. What every mother would want their son to act like. I hate him, hate him, hate him.

200w.gif


“It’s fine,” I say anyway. He can still redeem himself by fucking off.

But, of course, Ronnie doesn’t allow him that choice. “So, I heard you’ve become a full-fledged priest, is that right?”

He nods excitedly, and I nearly gag. Not just an Arcean, but an Arcean priest. Not just a believer of nonsense, but a preacher of it.

I can already tell that any conversations about religion between these two, if they happen, are going to get quite contentious.

“That’s so cool!” Ronnie says. “You know, I’ve been meaning to catch a sermon of yours, but, eh… I never remember it when I’m free. My cousin says they’re great, though!”

Samson chuckles and waves a hand. “Give your cousin my thanks, and don’t sweat it. You’re always welcome, though!”

I suppress a sigh and gaze off at the sea instead. It’s alright. This guy’s got to realize his rudeness soon and piss off. I’ll just wait until then --

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Oh, you motherfucker.

Phone call? That sounds like a phone call, there.

Ronnie digs out her phone and turns off the alarm. “Sorry,” she says, “break’s ending. But it was great to see you! Oh, and, um...” She glances at me. “Nice talking to you, too.”

I nod with a forced smile, and she goes back to Samson. “I’ll make it a point to come to a sermon of yours, and we can talk after, okay?”

“I’ll come too,” says Wendy. I guess I wasn’t alone in being ignored, at least.

Maybe it’s just an artifact of when I was reading this, but I didn’t realize until just now that Wendy was speaking in human tongue herself. I suppose that it makes sense that given that that is a thing that Pokémon can be capable of in this setting, that a police dog would be conversant.

“Sounds good! See you then.”

“Yeah, see ya!”

They wave each other goodbye, and the police duo head back to their car further down the road. Samson steps up to the railing, taking Ronnie’s spot, a wide smile on his face. As he leans on the railing, I get off it.

“Sorry again for cutting you off like that,” he says. “You know how it is with seeing old friends, though.”

Red:
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“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

No, I don’t. “Sure,” I mutter.

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I can already tell that this conversation is going to get nice and awkward.

He leans his other arm on the railing as well. "So, not to get all missionary, but are you acquainted with Arceism?"

[ ] No. No, no way. I am not letting this guy preach his fairy tales to me. That's where I draw the line.

I think that it might make sense to describe a bit more of Red’s thought process before he goes full “that’s it, I draw the line at being proselytized”.

I look him right in the eye, unflinching. "I don't want to hear a word about your hokey religion, pony boy."

Stupefied. That’s his face right now. He just could not expect that I’d say such a thing. Oh, poor man. Reality hit him hard.

What will he do now? Will he get mad? He has to get mad. I insulted his entire world view, trivialized it to animal worship. Go on. Get mad. Escalate this. Show me how your rage overtakes your senses. Show me the evil within that you deny --

He sighs. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

Red: “What? But I just insulted your religion! You’re just going to take that?”
Samson: “Kid, if people are mocking my religion, it’s a day ending in ‘y’. Trust me, I get this a lot as a priest.”
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Oh my Gods. Oh my Gods. He really just pulled the ‘bigger man’ shit. I hate him. I hate him so much. Kill. Kill him. Knife. The hilt is cool to the touch.

Ah yes, trying to stab the guy who was explicitly described as ‘tall and bulky’. That sure sounds like it’s not a disaster waiting to happen.

Stop!

I freeze. I pull my hand away from the hilt and tuck it in my pocket instead.

I breathe in and breathe out. Time seems to stand still between us, at least. I can take a few seconds to choose my next move.

It ends up being rather unimpressive.

Samson: “Um… are you okay right now?”
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"Whatever," I mutter and turn away. Walking off, I worry he might still yell something, something that could threaten my self-control again.

After hearing nothing for fifteen seconds, though, I conclude that the situation has come to an end. I breathe a little more easily.

I don't quite dare look over my shoulder to see if he's left, so I keep my course until I'm off the beach entirely. Only then can I stop at a roadside bench, sit down and fully process what just happened.

You got friendzoned by a guy who made you feel completely inadequate? :V

Okay. That could’ve gone better. I mean, I did just fine with the cop, which is the part that I consciously got into, but I still shouldn’t have almost shanked that Samson guy. Maybe bringing along the knife was a mistake after all. I should have realized my volatility… it’s like I’d forgotten all about the supermarket incident yesterday.

Well, what’s done is done. I should just avoid the beach for a while now in case that guy likes to frequent the place. I don’t think I should face him again before I’ve practiced with more people and gotten my hatred under control. Though I don’t even know how I’d want myself to handle things if he bumped into me again. Really only two ways about it - what I ended up doing this time or apologizing. And I do not want to apologize to an Arcean. If anything, they should apologize to me. For what, I’m not sure, but they should.

He’s going to get forced into doing this in a future chapter, isn’t he? :p

Alright. I guess I should just get right back on the rapidash despite getting singed. Just… stick to less aggravating types of people. Find a giratinist, maybe. We might have something in common.

With a sigh, I force myself to stand up and continue walking.

Red: “Thank Helix that’s the last that I’ll ever see of-

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Oh come on! Seriously?!
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Alright, time for the highlight reel part of my review that I like to do. I kinda gather that this was basically a “kicking things off” chapter, since freaky nightmare sequences for the first half aside, it felt like we were generally showing Red trying to settle into an equilibrium only for Samson to come crashing in at the last scene. I admittedly am not sure if I got a solid read on where things are going to go from here, other than that this obviously isn’t the last that Red has seen of Samson, and I presume that he’ll butt heads more than once. Though in stories, the journey’s often every bit as important as the destination, and you certainly had that one in spades with the way you used the chapter’s opportunities to get into Red’s head. If there’s one defining strength of this story aside from its willingness to own its premise, it’s that it does a pretty effective job of selling the psyche of an unbalanced sociopath, and this chapter was no exception there.

I didn’t have a whole lot of bones to pick with this chapter, with the bigger ones being times when I wished you’d shown a bit more of what was going on in Red’s head. Granted, some of that could’ve been deliberate since as a story very tightly coupled to Red’s perspective, things that he just doesn’t notice or else overlooks will naturally also not really register in the narration. Beyond that, there were a couple small typos that I noticed here and there. Nothing too egregious, but still things that are worth smoothing out.

That’s all for now. Hope the feedback was helpful, and while I don’t know if it’ll necessarily be with Hunter, Haunted, I’ll be looking forward to crossing paths with your stories again in the future, @canisaries .
 

canisaries

you should've known the price of evil
Premium
Location
Stovokor
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. inkay-shirlee
  2. houndoom-elliot
  3. yamask-joanna
  4. shuppet
  5. deerling-andre
  6. omanyte
  7. hizzap
unless “blue Dragonair with yellow orbs” is just a HH-exclusive subspecies.
It's this one. I've drawn a picture for it, actually.

1760705168359.jpeg

Ah yes, time for that bad trip right about now. Though I feel that it might’ve been worth setting the scene a bit more in terms of showing the whole “wait, he’s really here, for the taking, and he wants me to?” sinking in for him.
I take it that killing Helix is some sort of high blasphemy or something in Helixian religion from the way that Red is reacting to “oh yeah, Helix commanded me to eat him”.
Well, it's really more like Red's chud predatory side talking to himself rather than Helix Himself requesting this.

Ah yes, that’s definitely something that you’ll only see in Eastern funerals IRL. Cute little culture clash moment there.
I actually researched modern Japanese funerals (during one of the later revisions) and found out that they do usually wear black there (whew, got to keep my cool moment). I have heard of the "white = death" symbolism in Eastern cultures, though.

Oh, so Red’s parents no longer live in Pallet Town, huh? Since I distinctly remember the games being set in a detached house there.
It's a messy situation - Red's mom lives in an apartment somewhere else due to not bearing to be around her son, but the house is still hers and she pays the bills. Luckily, she's pretty affluent and can afford to keep this up. Her new husband (Abe's dad) also helps, of course, since he and Abe have lived in the house ever since their old one burned down. Abe's dad travels a lot, though, so he doesn't even make an appearance in HH or The Bringer.

Oh, so Red just straight-up doesn’t know who his father is. I wonder how on earth he managed that in an age when there’s casual internet access at minimum in public libraries.
Something that either you've forgotten or the text neglects to make clear is that Red has a kind of phobia of modern tech for Twitch reasons (it's a long story), so he isn't able to use the internet. Red's father also (technically Bringer spoilers but it amounts to nothing) died when he was very young, which in this story's timeline is before his parents would have had much of an online footprint.

Wait, is this the same shirt as in that one art of HH!Red in more formal clothes, or am I tripping?
Possibly! I know I've drawn Red in neater clothing once or twice because of this chapter.

Wait, Tangela have hair in this setting? ^^;
Not quite hair, but much thinner vines than in canon. Red's not being entirely literal.

Is that deliberate there? Since the officer didn’t say anything about the missing person being female yet.
Red did mention that he saw those people showing her photo around, which is where the cop would assume he found out the missing person's gender.

Wonder if that’s a beat location or some sort of restaurant.
It's in no way deducible from the text, but it's actually an Arcean youth camp.

That’s all for now. Hope the feedback was helpful, and while I don’t know if it’ll necessarily be with Hunter, Haunted, I’ll be looking forward to crossing paths with your stories again in the future, @canisaries .

Thanks for the review! Especially for catching typos - I didn't use a proper grammar checker back when I wrote this or even the two subsequent revisions, so there are still some in there that pop up. Looking forward to the next time you land on this!
 
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