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Pokémon Curse of Void

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Namohysip

Dragon Enthusiast
Staff
Partners
  1. flygon
  2. charizard
  3. milotic
  4. zoroark-soda
  5. sceptile
  6. marowak
  7. jirachi
  8. meganium
Happy Halloween, everyone! This is going to be a very short, three-part special that I'll be uploading on the 29th, 30th, and 31st of October. Get ready for spooks of the disturbing variety.

This is a bit more experimental than I usually write. Isn't at all the style of story I typically do. I wanted to have a little fun with a journal-style story, inspired in part by Postcards on this forum. I've finally gotten around to writing it!

This fic will contain allusions to death and things worse than death. There will be implications of gore, but no direct depictions due to its nature as a journal entry. Still, this one teeters on Teen. It's not for the faint of heart.

This story takes place in the same universe as my main story, Hands of Creation. However, knowledge of that world is not required. There are benefits to knowing about HoC and not!


Curse of Void

An adventuring Smeargle wanders the final part of his world, Kilo, and uncovers a strange curse. This is his journal.

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File 944-1731

Secret Level: 5


The contents within this file are for the eyes of Elite Hearts and top researchers. A redacted version of the report open for public viewing may be seen in File 944-1732.

UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS SHALL RESULT IN DISCIPLINARY ACTION OR ARREST

Credentials accepted.


ITEM DESCRIPTION

The following transcription is from a journal that was recovered near the edge of the Chasm of the Void in Southern Kilo. A Mimikyu in distress had given it to investigators while searching for the whereabouts, body, or information of Smeargle Angelo Sr., not to be confused by his surviving son and grandson of the same name and species. Angelo was reported missing on the third moon of Spring of year 943, almost one year prior to this journal being discovered.


BEGIN TRANSCRIPTION


Year 943. Spring, 3rd moon, day 22

Hello, future me! This is Angelo of the past! Or perhaps you’re my son, Angelo Junior. Or my grandson, Angelo Junior II! Well regardless, this is my travel log as I explore the southern, mysterious, uncharted areas of Kilo! I’ve already set foot in all other parts of the world. I encountered the nomadic tribes that wander Nightshade Forest. I’ve gone to the twisted lands of Fae Fae Forest. I’ve explored the ocean’s depths and met their guardian Lugia.

I’ve done all but the south, the most forbidden lands of Kilo. Well, this will be the trip where I can say, “I’ve traveled the world!” Now sit back, Angelo and Angelo, and read and reminisce on my adventures.

Year 943. Spring, 3rd moon, day 24

Walking on foot is the only way to travel. Even as a Smeargle with Mew’s Blessing, I’d consider it cheating to utilize Teleport or Fly or any of those special powers. No! On foot it shall be! And how much it has already paid off. On my way down the unknown paths, where the grass is thinner and lighter, I happened upon a traveling caravan of Southern Pokémon.

After kindly explaining my goal to them, they were friendly enough to provide me with some extra provisions for my travel! I partook in a meal with them, and was drowsy in an instant. Then, they attacked me. Such thrill! Once I dispatched them, I took more of their slumbering stew for the trip. I look forward to being well-rested on these harsh roads.

It seems that the Southern Kingdom is much more dangerous in the remote lands, far different from other parts of the world under the Heart of Hearts’ domain. I understand why it’s considered so thrilling now. I’ll make a note of their species here. One was a Seviper. Seemed to be the grunt of the group, mostly backed up whatever anyone else said. The second was a Watchog, certainly their scout. The third was a Sunflora, though many of their petals were missing. Very rough and grizzled for the land. And their ringleader was a Sneasler. Lanky fellow! I believe I’m ahead of them on the path, so perhaps I will be able to resupply with them in the future.

Year 943. Spring, 3rd moon, day 28

Goodness, I’ve been so caught up in traveling and sleeping with that slumbering stew that I’ve forgotten to fill out the travel log! But I remembered at such an important moment. I’ve found the most forbidden part of the land, perhaps one that even my instincts, my very fur, is telling me, no, no, go away! Flee, at once!

Well, nay, I say! I shall take, ah, only a few steps, actually. In all honesty, witnessing this strange crater is enough. It spans at least a day’s travel walking around, and yet its aura is so evil and sinister that not even grass wishes to grow in its otherwise ashy, fertile-looking soil. Such a strange, bitter taste as well. It wouldn’t be suitable for any kind of stew or spice, not even a basic rub.

Well! It’s time for a short walk. I’ll allow myself a hundred paces of bravery. Time to go where no Pokémon has stepped before!

This is my handwriting.

Year 943. Summer, 1st moon, day 4

I’ve found my way to a local town to recall the day, but for the life of me I’m unable to recall what happened the moment I stepped into that crater. At least, if this journal is accurate. It appears to be my handwriting, and… I do recall writing it, yes. Reading this journal has the memories all come back to me.

I’m so itchy.

It’s alright. I’ll continue my travels for now, and then I’ll return home later.

Year 943. Summer, 1st moon, day 5

It’s another day and the sun is awfully bright. I’ve found my way to a small town east of the mysterious crater and I asked around about it. As of now, I’m in a waiting room for a checkup with a local nurse. Despite my first impressions of this region, the locals are very kind once you are inside of a proper settlement. They lectured me about wandering the roads unprotected and alone, but they do not realize how strong I truly am! With Mew’s Blessing and the teachings of my youth, I am prepared for any possible situation!

Ah, they’re calling me in.

Transcription note: "Entry 6" has been numbered twice. The cause is unknown, and the contents are different.

Year 943. Summer, 1st moon, day 5, evening.

It’s strange, but I don’t recall how the checkup went. It must have been so very boring that I completely tranced out of it. Could such supernatural boredom be possible? Was I stolen from? No, I appear to have all of my essential belongings. I have my water. I have my rations. And, of course, I have this journal. And my tail has all the writing ink I would ever want. I’m concerned. I didn’t write a single thing down!

As embarrassing as it is, I need to return to ask them if all is well. It would be irresponsible of me to not be careful after that first incident at the crater.

I’d wandered quite far… I’ll sleep for tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll navigate back to the settlement.

Year 943. Summer, 1st moon, day 6

Nobody’s here.

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Namohysip

Dragon Enthusiast
Staff
Partners
  1. flygon
  2. charizard
  3. milotic
  4. zoroark-soda
  5. sceptile
  6. marowak
  7. jirachi
  8. meganium
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Year 943. Summer, 1st moon, day 7

I don’t understand. I spent all day yesterday inspecting the town, but it was utterly, completely abandoned. I see food on the table, cold and untouched, as if they had gotten up and left mid-conversation. I had to put out a few fires in other houses simply from them not being attended to. Such carelessness!

Then I inspected the doctor’s house, but had no luck there. Empty. I couldn’t seem to enter some of the buildings, so I eventually took up residence in the waiting room—it was, admittedly, cozy—and pushed together some of the spare pillows in the storage room to make a nest for myself for the night.

Now that I’m awake, and the town remains empty, I suppose I’ll… have to assume this was some great hallucination. After consulting with some maps I’d found, there is another town just south of here, about two days of travel. I’ll ask of this place.

Year 943. Summer, 1st moon, day 8

I haven’t needed to sleep much lately. I recognize the cold of night and the setting of the sun, yet the natural drowsiness that comes with it leaves much to be desired. I do wish I could rest, but I fear the anxiety of that encounter in town is nagging at me. I hardly have a proper appetite anymore. The slumbering stew has grown thick and… suspicious, I admit. But I paid a brief visit to the crater to sample some of the strange dust to cut some of the new richness.

It's tastier now.

Year 943. Summer, 1st moon, day 9

I’m so ITCHY. My fur doesn’t fit on my body. It’s maddening. I must have eaten too much of the suspicious stew. Or perhaps I’d brushed on a new plant and my body is having a reaction to it. So itchy. I can’t think with this kind of itch. I’m going to find a cold river, or a hot river, anything! I can hardly write.

Year 943. Summer, 1st moon, day 10

Upon reviewing this journal, I was supposed to find a town by now. I got sidetracked.

Also, I’ve found a way to ease the itch. It gives me splinters, but I’ve broken off sharp edges of tree branches and scraped them against the depths of my fur. Really need to get beneath the undercoat with this one. Claws aren’t enough. It feels better now.

Year 943. Summer, 1st moon, day 11

I’m convinced I’d taken a wrong turn and have gone past that town. I’m going to turn back. Find a street. I’d been wandering through the wilderness for a while and I have not eaten in a day. I’d lost my rations at some point. At some point. I don’t remember. I only have my water and my journal.

Should I find food?

Year 943. Summer, 1st moon, day 12

Food is all I can think about. The wood isn’t good. Using my powers to conjure food is a net loss of energy. I learned that one in my schooling. The itching is getting worse. I think I’m getting a rash. I really shouldn’t be writing this if my child and grandchild are going to read it, but it helps me stay sane.

Year 943. Summer, 1st moon, day 13

The roots of some plants are edible. I also happened upon a fallen Pokémon recently, which was an incredible fortune. Misfortune for the poor fellow, but it appeared to have already been predated upon. I’ve been reduced to a scavenger. How did this trip go so wrong?

I remembered I had this journal. I don’t have a lot to say. The stars are pretty. I cut off my arm.

Year 943. Summer, 1st moon, day 21

Someone found me. They were so kind. I’m not sure why I said, ‘I cut off my arm’ in my previous entry, because both of them are perfectly intact. I must have had a very vivid dream and have no memory of it.

This kind traveler, I can’t recall her name, is a Rampardos. She says she found me passed out near a river, my head nearly submerged in the water. She’d pulled me out, and now I’m enjoying the first proper meal I’ve had in days. I’m going with her to another town. It isn’t the one I recognize from the maps, so I truly did overshoot it, or somehow got lost along the way.

What do Rampardos taste like?

Year 943. Summer, 1st moon, day 22

The summer heat is blazing this year and it’s not even the second moon.

Year 943. Summer, 1st moon, day 23

I’ve resorted to biting my arms and legs for the itch, even as we arrived in town. Well, it wasn’t really much of a town so much as it was a small village. Rampardos kindly brought me to the shaman, I suppose he was, and he seemed deeply concerned about something or other. I wasn’t really paying much attention. It’s all boring to me. I asked about my itch, that horrible itch, and he said he would get treatment for me shortly.

I suppose now I’m just waiting.

Year 943. Summer, 1st moon, day 23, evening

I made an utter fool of myself. I don’t know what I was thinking! While waiting, I heard a true commotion outside. I politely waited while managing my itch, but eventually Rampardos entered to speak with me again. Admittedly, I don’t recall the details of the conversation, only that she asked if I was from Kilo Mountain. Why, yes, I was!

She had encouraged me to return there, and not sleep in the village. I asked about my itch, and she said she had a remedy for me, though it honestly looked like a jar of mashed berries. I took it graciously, and, oh, I’m such a fool, I’d asked how her species tasted. Why? Why would I say such an awkward thing? She left without a word, looking so mortified. I’m such a fool. Such a fool. And this itching formula is hardly doing anything.

I’ll return home. I’m utterly demotivated. And I’m going far, far away from this village after that blunder, and I’ll sleep when I’m too tired to make another step!

Year 943. Summer, 1st moon, day 24

I didn’t sleep. The itching, it’s horrible. I can’t express how horrible it is properly. I’m just walking. Home can have an answer. Kilo Mountain is more advanced. It’s so horrible. It’s like my skin is infected yet I see no blemish. What is under there? What is underneath?

Year 943. Summer, 1st moon, day 24, evening

I cannot sleep. I’m grinding my arms and legs against hard rock that I’m calling a bed, just to ease the horrible irritation of it all. My tail is the same way. I’m thwacking it limply on the ground for some sort of feeling. Even pain is better than this.

It’s easier at night, but still enough to be distracting. Why? It’s like an Acid attack now. The very air despises me. What infection is this? What have I become allergic to?

Year 943. Summer, 1st moon, day 25

I feel so much better

Angelo, and Angelo. You need to go to the crater. It’s so much better.

I have evolved. Smeargle can’t evolve, but I have. That’s the only explanation. My travels to this remote location have uncovered a new and unknown species. I am pioneering my own species’ advancement. I can’t find a mirror, though, and admittedly I feel mostly the same as before. The only difference is how much of myself has changed within.

The itch, that horrible itch. It’s still there, but if I find a dark place, if I remain underground, it’s easier. If I tear open my skin and reveal the blackened muscle underneath, the sting is a rush of cold relief. I’ve been doing that often. It helps. It grows right back, too. Or, perhaps more of myself seeps into where the muscles had been. My body heals so easily. I feel invincible.

Year 943. Summer, 2nd moon, day 7

Good! I’d lost track of time, but I ran into those bandits again and asked for the time. They seemed taller than before. I think I shrank from losing so much of myself. Oh, but in my changed form, they knew not to mess with me, certainly not. I demanded to know the day, and hence I can track that in my journal again. I was also hungry for food, so I requested, kindly, for that. I thanked them for the stew from before, and asked if they had more of that.

They obliged and fed me, but admittedly, it was not as good as I’d remembered. But then, the rudest thing happened! The Seviper, that brute, he stabbed me with his bladed tail! Straight into me, actually. I still see the blade coming out of my abdomen. He’s trying to pull away, but I shall have the last laugh!

Admittedly, my handwriting here may be messy. He’s still struggling. The others already fled with their caravan.

But I’m still so hungry.

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Namohysip

Dragon Enthusiast
Staff
Partners
  1. flygon
  2. charizard
  3. milotic
  4. zoroark-soda
  5. sceptile
  6. marowak
  7. jirachi
  8. meganium
<< PAGE 3

Year 943. Summer, 2nd moon, day 7, evening

The dust of the crater makes everything taste good.

Year 943. Summer, 2nd moon, day 8, evening

I’ve taken a bucket of dust. I fashioned Seviper’s skull into a makeshift container and used his scales to seal up the holes and whatnot. Goodness, I lost a whole day on that feast. A wondrous “food coma!” I haven’t enjoyed something like that since

The journal page abruptly halts. There is a scrawl of unintelligible symbols that might have been letters, but analysis has not been able to decipher any of the text.

Year 943. Summer, 2nd moon, day 9, evening

What have I done? What happened to me? All of that. All of the above, why did it happen? Why is my body this blackened sludge inside? My fur has become nothing but a veil attached to skin that no longer belongs to my body. I’m in a suit that only grants the memory of a Smeargle. What have I become? When did this happen? Why did I kill that Seviper? I must give him a proper burial. Bandit or not, death is not for me to grant. Something is wrong. Something is wrong. Something is wrong. Something is wrong. This isn’t me. This isn’t me. This isn’t me.

I’ll write it a thousand times. I need to remember, this isn’t me.

The following pages of the entry are a repetition of ‘This isn’t me.’ for, by our average counts, 9,643 lines, in semi-uniform repetition of 5 per row, for thirty rows per page, with slight variances from page to page. Handwriting analysis shows little signs of fatigue or fluctuations in ink quality from start to finish.

I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do. I can’t go home. Not like this. Will I hurt them? What overtook me? I’m sorry. I hear him. I’m sorry.

I found the ocean. That’s far enough. I’ll relax. I can relax. I just need to think. I’m sorry. He won’t stop. I hear him.

I hear his voice. The Seviper. But isn’t he dead? His skull is silent. My supplies make no noise. No I don’t hear him but I know his thoughts. Am I going crazy?

He had no home and no place and his bandit friends were all the same. Poor unfortunate soul. He misses his friends. He knows the hideout. I’ll find them. I’ll make it up to him.

Year 943. Summer, 2nd moon, day 22

We’re together again. It was scary at first, and they screamed a lot. They fought as hard as they could but they couldn’t strike the face of their friend. And now they understand.

I’m okay like this.

I like this book. It reminds me of good times. I’d reorganize it but I don’t think it matters too much. One day I’ll return to Kilo Village and put it somewhere. But I can’t see them again. They wouldn’t understand.

Maybe I’ll rest here for a while. It is their home. It’s such a beautiful cave. They have so many beautiful, ruined things. I can feel their sentimentalities.

There’s a village that wronged them. Driven out. I can’t get the specifics. The memories are faded and they’re falling asleep. But that’s okay. I’ll make things better for them.

Year 943. Summer, 3rd moon, day 6

They’re hunting me. Hearts! The Thousand Hearts of Kilo Village! How dare they invade the South? This is not their jurisdiction. I’ll kill them. This is my home now. What did I do to deserve this?

Do I deserve this?

Year 943. Summer

It’s still summer. They’re too strong. They’re organized. Nothing like home. I have to flee until I can get stronger. I think I know how to get stronger. One of them shot me in the head with a great rock. I hit the ground and I remember how everything spattered around me. My head is still soft it feels wonderful. I’m scratching into my skull it feels so loud it feels so soft. I’m so alive.

Year 943

The south isn’t safe. The Waypoints aren’t safe. I’m traveling into distortions of the land to use as shelter for now. Wild Pokémon pass by and they work to keep me healthy. It’s getting harder to be satisfied with the new thoughts of them, though. I feel. Dumber. It’s harder to think. I don’t remember the last time I heard Seviper or the others. I don’t see them as friends anymore. Just. There.

It’s harder to feel. Why?

Year 943

I met a strange creature today. I’m not sure if it’s a Pokémon. It looked like a Mimikyu, but I didn’t sense that it was one. Like a sixth sense. It stared at me and said nothing. But I felt its thoughts, projected into me. It rattled my body like coffee in an earthquake. I miss coffee. But I can’t taste things anymore.

It left as soon as it came and I was left to my own devices. It’s getting colder and the leaves are dying. I know in my heart that it should be a beautiful thing but I can’t feel it anymore. It’s all hollow and empty. I’m missing something.

I think if I can claim someone again, I’ll feel again. Just for a little while longer.

I need to steal someone again. I’m sorry.

Year 943

He was wandering alone in the Dungeon. Charmander are so easy to spot in the dark. They’re far from stealthy. And something about him drew me closer. There’s such brightness in his eyes. I caught him and took his arm. Just that small amount was a glimpse of… of feeling. It’s amazing. It was terror and fear but it was SOMETHING I felt SOMETHING I need to take more. His arm is dissolving into the autumn fog. He’s not a normal Charmander. He seems just as surprised.

If I take all of him… will I feel something again?

He’s trying to talk to me. I’ll have a chat. Maybe I don’t need to kill him.

He has such a wonderful family. He has people to return home to. So many wonderful, gentle souls. There’s hope in his heart and he wants to become part of the very forces that are hunting me down. But he’s different. He’s showing me kindness. Asking what made me this way.

It’s the first time I’ve been able to truly self-reflect in so long.

I helped stop the bleeding. It was pretty easy, actually. Resilient creature. We talked more. He was tired. I brought him into my little cave. I ate the old occupants. They never gave me much.

I see so much light in him. He spoke so earnestly even as he lay dying, before I decided to save his life. I wanted him to sleep soundly without a speck of fear in his heart. Now that he’s asleep…

Maybe when I take him, I’ll feel happy again.

It hurts

END TRANSCRIPTION

Addendum A:

Final analysis of the journal indicates soil samples from the Chasm of the Void and several Dungeon soils, suggesting that the owner of this journal had traveled to several locations before winding up in the Chasm, where this item was discovered. In all of the places determined in the creature’s path based on eyewitness accounts and other traces, no physical evidence of a Charmander could be found except for footprints.

The footprints and nearby ground and soil lacked any sheddings or samples of a Charmander being present and will be classified as another PHANTOM-C sighting.

Void Basin, the sister crater of the Chasm, was determined to be strongly related to the shift in personality suffered by this journal’s author. It is recommended that all future visits, experiments, and scheduled trips anywhere within a 2 mile vicinity of Void Basin shall be canceled until further notice.

Please see File 944-1732 for the falsified report to give to Angelo Sr.’s immediate family for his autopsy. All matters within this document and the truth of his death are to be classified under the Heart of Hearts’ executive order. All individuals who have contributed to or came into contact with anything related to this report must also go to Elite Heart Alakazam Nevren for memory analysis to avoid residual corruption from Void Basin.

Addendum B:

Heart of Hearts Anam has invented a new threat classification, Level 5, and has placed Void Basin in it: Absolutely no person of any authority or power shall be allowed to enter the designated area.

This is currently the only known Dungeon that Heart of Hearts Anam is unable to purify. As such, it will be given a new term: “Cursed Dungeon.”

- Alakazam Nevren

END REPORT
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