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Author's Notes & Chapter One - Confession New

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
Oookay, so, what's the deal? A new thread for The Bringer? What am I, rebooting it?

Well, yeah.

Let me explain my reasons inside this spoiler so that the people who are just newly coming into this don't have to read (as big of) a wall of text:

In 2023, I was doing pretty well with the first version for a long time with a wonderful update schedule. However, I kind of ended up going through some additional mental stuff in 2024 that caused me to dread writing more of it because of one plot thread of the story that kept bringing really bad memories back to me. I also got stuck with my perfectionism because the freaking Ducklett Program kids weren't being rotated like they would have realistically been, and this was apparently a super big problem and very annoying to fix, so it blocked me from advancing.

As a consequence, the draft got stuck for months and months. Eventually, though, I decided that I couldn't keep just waiting to feel comfortable enough to continue and that I had to just try again with the story, this time leaving out that distressing plot thread and fixing the rotation problem as I go (possibly. I sort of also have stopped caring about it since as it's something no one reading would ever pay attention to). I also like the idea of revamping what was already there, because I've gotten better at outlining now and in general it's easier to fix something that's off than to create something perfect from the get-go.

So, here we are. I'm going to be posting a revised and/or rewritten version of the story in this thread and sunsetting the previous one. The reason I don't just edit posts in the old one to match new ones is because I do still want to keep the context for all the feedback I got so I know what people were reacting to.

Oh, but I haven't explained to the people clicking on this what the story actually is. If you're entirely new to my works in the Hunter, Haunted series: hi, welcome, although I'm going to have to tell you to click away in just a bit. This story, The Bringer, is the sequel to my story Hunter, Haunted. This series was originally written as a Twitch Plays Pokémon fanfiction, but I really ended up with something that had so much of my own artistic license to it that I would rather call it an AU. Don't know what Twitch Plays Pokémon is? Don't worry. A whopping majority of readers of Hunter, Haunted and the old version of The Bringer had no extensive TPP experience, with many never even having heard of it before. For most of this two-part fic series' history, it has been written with an audience of general Pokémon fans in mind (I mean, ignoring the niche appeal of a villain protagonist), and it has fared very well in that in my opinion. Knowing TPP lore will not make or break this story but only bring a small enhancement that isn't necessary for the intended reading experience.

Anyway - when I told you I would tell you (new readers) to click away soon, I mean that you should click on that link of Hunter, Haunted in the previous paragraph. This story can't really read out of order, and if you were to do so, you would also spoil a lot of the first story. So, be patient and check out the first story first.

Once you get back, though, welcome to the thrilling continuation of Red's saga! Let's go through the content warnings so we're all on the same page. This story contains:
  • depictions of violence and gore that may be very strong
  • disturbing/disgusting concepts and imagery such as body horror, cultism, torture and cannibalism
  • psychological and existential horror
  • themes of mental illness such as depression and anxiety as well as attempted suicide
  • emotional domestic abuse
  • strong language, some misogyny, some homo- and transphobia, which may include slurs
  • some sexual content and mentions of sexual assault as well as a depiction of an attempted one.
Due to all this, The Bringer is rated mature. It's not grimdark, though. The setting continues to be nice, and it's only the protagonist and some people around him that deal with dark themes.

One more thing: if you're returning to this story after its old version, you should know that there is a lot that's gone unchanged (especially in the beginning), but also that a few plot threads have been dropped completely. It's probably been a while since you read the old one, though, so you'd need to reread it for a refresher anyway. I hope that's fine.

Okay! Thank you for bearing with me, and I hope you enjoy this revision. I intend to finish the story in this, too, and that's a promise. As for feedback, it's once again encouraged and appreciated - I really want this story to be the best it can be. I have no particular preferences for what type of feedback I'd like, so please, speak your mind freely. Thank you, and here we go.

---

bringercover.png


THE BRINGER

Synopsis:
After the events of Hunter, Haunted, Red is convinced he is no longer suitable to be the Bringer, the one who will merge with HELIX and bring back the Helixian Kingdom. He must find someone else to fill the position within the next six months or die.

Genre:
Drama, Horror

Started:
First version started 23rd July 2023
Second version started 22nd May 2025

Status:
Ongoing

Length:
TBD (projected to be between 100-200k)

---

Chapter One content warnings: gore, body horror. Rating: mature.

---

CHAPTER ONE
Confession


---​

It’s wet. It’s cold and dark and wet.

I’m lying down on something slimy. I’m naked. So this must be…

Oh Gods.

The sea of tentacles around me rises, wraps around my limbs, and lifts me up to a vertical position. I’m fastened tight. Tight enough for me to know this is not a friendly meeting.

In the darkness ahead, a giant eye opens. It’s got a thin, slit pupil and it glows yellow, illuminating the environment. It’s staring right at me.

Then another eye opens. Another, and another. Soon enough, there’s a whole wall full of them. And all are staring at me.

“RED.”

The voice is a whisper, but a deep, loud whisper. I shudder, and it’s not even because of the cold. My heart is beating faster and faster.

I swallow. “My lord,” I respond.

“I SEE THAT YOU HAVE HAD QUITE THE ADVENTURE.”

I nod, neck tense. “You could say that.”

“AND I SEE THAT YOU HAVE GONE THROUGH A REVERSAL OF PRIORITIES.”

HE must be talking about Him.

“My lord, I can explain.”

“NO,” HE growls. “THERE IS NOTHING TO EXPLAIN. YOU HAVE PUT HIM BEFORE ME. YOU KNOW I DO NOT LIKE THAT.”

My heart is pounding already. “My lord, I am sorry, but I have tried, and it is not possible to do what you ask of me. Our bond was forged in madness, and it can’t be undone.”

“DO NOT SPEAK TO ME ABOUT WHAT IS POSSIBLE AND WHAT IS NOT,” HE hisses. “I KNOW THAT BETTER THAN YOU, MORTAL.”

The word ‘mortal’ brings shivers down my spine. Without HIM, I am mortal. Someone that will die. I can’t afford to lose HIS favor.

“WHAT IT SEEMS LIKE TO ME IS THAT YOU HAVE NOT TRIED ENOUGH,” HE booms. “I KNOW THAT BOND CAN BE SEVERED, AND YOU HAVE NOT DONE THAT. THAT MEANS YOU HAVE DISOBEYED ME.”

A lone tentacle rises from the sea and curves to face me like an arbok. Its tip splits open, and a shining blade emerges. Oh no.

“AND YOU KNOW WHAT MUST BE DONE WHEN ONE DISOBEYS.”

I struggle in HIS grasp, but as soon as I do, it gets even tighter. It’s cutting off the circulation to my arms and legs. HE is serious about this.

“My lord, please,” I wheeze. “Have mercy.”

“PREDATORS DO NOT HAVE MERCY,” HE says, and HE is right. That was a stupid request. Still, I had to try…

The blade-tipped tentacle slithers closer. “PERHAPS THIS WILL BRING YOU PERSPECTIVE.”

It hits me how vulnerable I really am. I really, really don’t want that blade to touch me. “My lord, no, I --”

The blade strikes, driving into my abdomen. Pain. White-hot pain. The sensation of my organs being severed. The sensation of my scream in my throat.

It’s quiet.

It’s warm and dark and quiet.

I’m lying down on something soft. I’m only half-naked. This must be… my bed.

I sigh in relief. Just a nightmare.

But that’s only a small comfort. Because I don’t know how that meeting will go, and it might as well go like this.

I bring my palms to my face and breathe for a bit. It’s okay. It’s okay, at least for now.

I should go back to sleep.

---​

“Morning.”

“Morning,” I respond to Abe’s greeting, then return to watching Fonz and Him. The nidoking fetches the omanyte’s backpack and grabs it with his powerful claws. They’re going to be leaving soon.

“Three days until court,” Abe reminds me. I shudder. I’d say I don’t like to be reminded, but I have to be so that I won’t miss it. That would be catastrophic for me and my freedom.

“And tomorrow the lawyer’s coming over,” he adds. “Don’t forget that, either.”

I already had. Dammit.

“Are you nervous?” he asks, as if there’s any question.

“Of course I am,” I answer. “I could be looking at ten years.” Still a ridiculous sentence for briefly holding someone hostage at knifepoint.

“I’m sure you won’t get that,” he says. “You were possessed. They have to take that into consideration.”

“They could still determine I was doing it under my own volition,” I say. “Which means full sentence.”

Abe shifted in his seat. “Well, if it helps any, I’ll be there.”

“Thanks. It doesn’t.”

“Okay, We’re leaving,” Fonz calls from the hall. I get up immediately, leaving my sandwich on the table, and walk over. Fonz is waiting with Him in his claws and the backpack thrown across his leather jacket covered back.

I smile and lean in towards Him. The omanyte looks back with happy eyes. “Have a good day at school, my lord,” I tell Him.

“Thanks, I will,” He responds. “Bye.”

“Bye,” I echo back, and the two walk out of the door.

Oh, how I love Him. Love. It feels so good to be able to admit it.

“Do you want them to be there?” Abe asks.

I turn around. “Gods no,” I spit. “I don’t want my lord to see me treated like a criminal. He barely knows what happened, and that’s the way I want it.”

Abe fidgets with his hands.

I sigh. “What?”

“It… might be better if you don’t call Him ‘your lord’ in there,” he says. “It’s not exactly…”

“Sane?” I huff. “I know. I’m crazy.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s fine, I already know that,” I say. “And I know well enough not to let them see it. I didn’t show it in the psych eval, either. I’m used to having to pretend to be normal.”

“I just want them to see your best side.”

“It is my best side,” I mutter, returning to the table. Well, it is. My love for Him may have been created out of a thousand voices screaming at me when I was twelve, but it’s the most human part of me. The rest is quick to anger and bloodthirsty and overall unfit to live in this society.

“I better hurry up,” Abe says and starts making himself a sandwich. You do that. You have school, after all, unlike me, the pathetic stay-at-home.

I finish my own sandwich and make my way over to the couch. I turn on the TV and search the channels for something bearable. That redecorating show is on. I guess I’ll watch that until Abe leaves.

It’s not too long before that happens. “Bye,” Abe says as he heads out the door, and I say ‘bye’ back. I wait thirty seconds after he’s gone, then turn off the TV and get up.

It’s time to head to the basement, and… meet HIM.

---​

I’m not getting much done here.

I pace back and forth, trying to think of the optimal thoughts to have in my head while facing HIM, but they always fall short. There’s just no way to express how certain I am that I really can’t sever that bond while also being very, very sorry about it. Then again, it shouldn’t matter. HE is going to see into my mind and pry until HE sees everything HE needs to see. I’m just terrified that HE will see something I don’t know, some indication that I really hadn’t tried my best and this bond is only staying due to a lack of effort.

Dammit. I’m never going to face HIM at this rate. I’m just too afraid. But I have to see HIM before court, or it might be ten years before I see HIM again. HE and I need to make some plan. Will HE wait for me if I get the full sentence, for one? Or will I be too much out of the optimal age to become a host? Will HE want me to return HIM to that cave I found HIM in so that HE can search for someone else? Or will HE kill me on the spot for failing HIM? Oh Gods --

No, don’t scare yourself like that. HE wouldn’t kill me. HE would be discovered if HE did, and HE doesn’t want that attention. If HE killed me, HE would wait until I’ve returned him to that cave, at least. And I’d like to believe that HE and I have enough history for HIM not to dispose of me so readily.

I stop myself and sigh. Maybe I should wait until tomorrow after all. I still have two days. Maybe I can think of some angle that’ll lessen HIS anger by then.

Or… maybe I already have everything I'm gonna get in terms of arguments, and what I need is just more confidence.

I might know a way to achieve that…

I walk over to the bookcase on the right wing of the room and crouch down to open the cupboards. Eight numbered jars stare back, each with a disembodied human tongue suspended in fluid save for the last one, which is dry with a lock of pink hair. I sigh.

I wanted to take a look at my trophies to remind myself what a deadly predator I am and how there's no way that HELIX will just throw me to the curb, but this final jar really has the opposite effect.

I let my overconfidence get the better of me when I put on that golden mask, and it nearly cost me everything. And it cost Michi her life, too. And the fact that I see that as a bad thing makes me doubt my predatorship even more.

It's not like I lie awake at night thinking about how Michi is dead. How she's in the void, in eternal torment, just like everyone else that has died - save for the few lucky bastards that reincarnated as ghost mon. Still, it bothers me whenever it comes to mind. Michi was promising. She wasn't just a mareep like my other victims. She didn't deserve to die. Honestly, it was likely that she was always going to stay a mareep and die with all the others as I wasn't really going to personally raise her into a predator, but… she had so much time left that I just robbed from her.

But should I really care even that much? Shouldn't I just accept it and move on? At least not keep feeling this… heaviness in my stomach? This sort of emotion isn't allowed for a predator.

And that brings me back to the original problem - all of these emotions I feel because of Helix. Love, most pressingly, but perhaps the fear and sorrow on His behalf are even worse. They're actually making me dread the coming Judgment rather than celebrate it. How is Helix going to fare in that dangerous world? Can I really protect Him? Well, that'll depend a lot on whatever HELIX decides will be my fate…

I sigh again. This is pointless. I close the cupboard and leave the room. I'll just wait until tomorrow - maybe something will come to me in a dream.

---​

“My lord -- please, I beg of you -- stop!”

The scream falls on deaf ears. A tentacle slithers into my opened abdomen, grabs onto my small intestine and tugs on it. I can feel it connect to the back of my abdominal cavity, the mesentery stretched to its limits. All the while the bladed tentacle continues to slash at my organs like a machete at jungle vines. And it hurts, hurts more than anything has hurt before.

The pain stops abruptly. I’m back in my bed, covered in cold sweat.

I wait until my breathing has settled, then sigh.

So much for a good night’s sleep before the meeting.

---​

“Two days until court,” Abe had reminded me this morning. Yeah, yeah, I’d thought. I’d hardly been able to think of anything else.

The rest of the morning had passed roughly the same way as the day prior. Fonz and Him left for school, and I told Him to have a good day. But I did look at Him for a while longer this time, knowing there was a teeny-tiny chance that it’d be the last time I saw Him.

After Abe left, I came down to the basement again, but I found myself simply pacing around again and going through scripture to try and reverse-engineer HIS mind to have a better idea of how HE would react. But, as I already could have guessed, I found nothing new, and my doubts stayed. I eventually gave up and decided to leave the meeting until tomorrow. I did have my lawyer to meet today.

Alone in the house, I spent the hours like I usually do - watching TV, doing crosswords, reading books I’ve read a hundred times before - until Abe arrived. And then my mother.

It took ten minutes of silence for either of us to speak to each other, and I wasn’t the one to give in.

“So, what happened?” was what she had said.

“I got possessed by a ghost and threatened somebody with a knife,” I’d told her.

“I see,” she had said.

Thankfully, the lawyer showed up not long after. My mother sat quietly while he spoke to me and explained what I should do, which turned out to be ‘nothing’. “Let me do the speaking,” he had said, and I had nothing against that. It’s refreshing not to have to scheme everything in advance.

As for what else he told me, he said I had a good chance of walking away with a minimal punishment. I don’t know if I believe him, but it was nice to pretend. He told me about something called the Ducklett Program - unbelievably saccharine, I know - that young first-timers could be sentenced to if they were under some kind of influence, whether it’d be drugs, mental illness or spectral possession. It had community service, group meetings and therapy. While I’m certainly not excited to babysit old people, it’s better than jailtime. Much better.

The subject changed itself to payment somewhere down the line, and that’s when my mother started speaking again. I was relieved to hear her say she’d pay, even if it was already implied by her having shown up. There was surely a part of her that would have liked to leave me in my own mess. She probably believes I belong in prison, anyway. I’d even go as far as to say there’s no probably.

Everything settled, the lawyer left, and my mother didn’t wait a minute after him. I could tell Abe was sad about her having to leave so soon, but it was definitely better this way. Not that he would know. He wasn’t here when we still lived together, when we used to fight. I’d come close to stabbing her many a time back then.

“Why… is it that you guys never talk?” Abe asked. I’m surprised he dared to, but it’s probably because we’ve started talking about a lot of things we’ve kept quiet about before. Well, he has. I still barely talk. It’s him who keeps pushing the subject of mental health. ‘Are you going to go to therapy?’ One thing at a time, Abe. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’ve got something else on our plate right now.

I take a sip of my glass of water. “Because we hate each other,” I answer him. He hesitates, but ends up shrugging in defeat. And that’s as much as I’m going to be talking about her today.

I can’t wait to sleep.

---​

My breaths are ragged. My guts are somewhere down in the void below. HIS eyes are still staring at me, HIS tentacles picking at organs like murkrow at a carcass. I feel myself die.

---​

“One day until court,” Abe said this morning, as I’d expected him to. Since then, everyone has left like usual, and since then, I’ve yet again been pacing back and forth in the basement.

I just… can’t bring myself to do it. The nightmares keep replaying in my head. More than once, I’ve absentmindedly found myself reaching down to touch my belly to make sure all the organs are still safely inside. Gods. I’m such a coward.

I guess I just have to force myself. I have to do it before tomorrow, and it’s best if I do it while no one else is in the house. While none of them know that the out-of-use locked room isn’t so out-of-use after all, they’re going to be suspicious if they can’t find me anywhere in the house and then I suddenly emerge out of the basement like I’d never left. Or worse, they’ll catch me redhanded exiting the room. I’d have to knock them out and carve a memory eraser in their skin to fix that problem, and then I’d have the new problem of an inexplicable seal on their body.

Okay, let’s just get to it. First order of action, get nude. Arrive with nothing hidden, as the scripture says. I take off my clothes and fold them onto the table. My hairs raise on end from the sudden cold, but I suspect it’s partly due to the current situation, too. It’s hardly a comfortable position I’m in.

Next thing, removing the cloth draped over HIS fossil. As soon as I lay eyes on the stone, the connection will be made, so I have to keep my eyes closed or otherwise averted until I’m ready. I walk over to the altar HIS fossil is propped up on and pinch the ends of the cloth. My hands are shaking. It’s okay, just do it.

I close my eyes and pull. I take some steps backward, familiar enough with the layout of the room not to bump into anything, and then get down on my knees and lay the cloth next to me on the floor. My eyes are still tightly shut. I’m not ready quite yet.

But there’s nothing else to do. I have to open my eyes and face HIM. Face HIS disappointment and wrath. I just have to be… brave.

But I’m not.

I turn my back to the stone and open my eyes for a moment. My torture board stares back, its board at a slight angle and its straps holding nothing. Old blood stains the wood.

I recall the final illusion Joanna gave me, the one where I was the one strapped to one of those, and shudder. Come to think of it, my nightmare wasn’t very different from that, either. I guess it’s just karma that I’d find myself on the receiving end of a mutilation more than once. If I believed in karma, which I don’t. Really, I’d have gone through so much worse if it was real.

Come on, now, stop stalling and just turn around! Face the music already! Gods! I shove my palm into my forehead. What’s wrong with me? What happened to my unwavering loyalty? High Priest Red, devout follower of HELIX, Bringer candidate number one. Where did that person go?

I have to turn around. I owe HIM everything. I shouldn’t avoid HIM. I shouldn’t keep secrets from HIM. I am HIS.

Then why am I shaking so much?

Shaking and breathing ever quicker. Shallow breaths in and out. It’s starting to sting my lungs. I’m hyperventilating? Since when do I hyperventilate?

I force myself to take deeper breaths, resulting in coughing. This is harder than I expected. I bring my hands to my throat, for some kind of support, I guess, and start over. Shaky breath in, shaky breath out. I feel like I’m suffocating, but I have to keep going. I have to… calm down…

My face twists. A sob escapes my throat. Oh, that’s great, now I’m sobbing. I’m such a coward. I’m a little kid, a brat that can’t face the consequences of his actions…

I place my hands on the floor and lean in. I’m careful not to come even close to peeking at the stone upside down. I find myself shrinking into a ball, and soon, my hands are on my head and my forehead is touching the floor.

So shameful. So utterly shameful. Drawing into the fetal position instead of facing HIM. This isn’t suitable behavior for a predator. I need to straighten myself out.

Like prying metal off its hinges, I take my hands off my head and straighten my back. I ball my hands into fists, close my eyes and turn back around. Part of me is screaming to stop - my self-preservation - but I silence it.

Okay. Here it goes.

Through some act of sheer will, I open my eyes.

The stone stares back, silent.

My shoulders relax just a little. No immediate punishment, at least…

“You have a lot on your mind.”

That voice came from behind. I turn my head, though I already know what to expect - that voice was familiar.

Kohath, the first king of the Helixians stares back at me, arms crossed and body wrapped in white cloth. His two-meter-tall, bronze-skinned frame towers over me, and his yellow eyes are piercing. His mouth, encircled by his dark beard, is neutral in its position.

I bow my head, relieved to see a gentler form of HIS. “My lord.”

“Go through it all in your mind,” HE says. “Let me see.”

I nod and focus. I go back to the day I found Joanna floating around as a yamask, move on to my putting on her mask and failed exorcism, all the illusions she put me through, and the evening I woke up in the hospital with her finally gone.

“You were possessed,” HE says. “And now you’re free.”

I nod. “That is right, my lord.”

“And during this experience, you have come to the conclusion that it is impossible for you to sever your attachment to the vessel of my spirit.”

HE is quick to get to the point. “Yes, my lord.”

I hear HIM pace past me. “I am disappointed to hear this.”

HE is disappointed. What does that mean? Does that mean HE will punish me? My body freezes up, readying itself for the worst.

“I will not punish you.”

The tension relaxes. “YOU will not?”

“No,” HE says. “There would be no point.”

I sigh, deeply. It feels like I’m breathing out four lungs’ worth of air.

“Your judgment seems to be sound,” HE says. “It turns out severing that attachment was indeed a task too difficult for you to do. I had my doubts.”

“YOU did?”

“I had to order you to be sure.”

I sigh again. “Then… what is YOUR decision?”

HE stops walking. “You are not my Bringer.”

The weight of HIS words pulls me down to the floor. But I expected this, didn’t I? And I have another option in mind?

HE pauses. “It could be acceptable.”

I raise my head, seeking HIM, and find HIM behind me. “You’ll let me find you another Bringer?”

HE lifts HIS chin. “You have shown yourself to be useful,” HE says. “It would be foolish to abandon you so readily. Your search is permitted.”

My shoulders slump in relief. “I will not fail you, my lord.”

“You had better not,” HE says. “That is why I will give you six months.”

Six months to find a replacement? Can I do it in that time?

“You must,” HE continues, “or you must return me to the cave.”

I bow my head. “Understood.”

HE pauses again. “There is something more.”

Something more? What is -- oh, right.

“Yes,” I say. “Tomorrow, I will be taken to court. They might imprison me, for up to ten years.”

HIS hand scratches HIS beard. “I see.”

I swallow. “What will YOU do if that should be the case?”

“You will return in ten years, and you will return me to the cave.”

Tension worsens. So it’s an automatic fail if I’m sent to prison. “What’ll happen in the ascension, then?”

“If you are worthy - and still alive by then - you will receive fangs and claws like the other predators,” HE says, “but you will not receive immortality.”

I nod, shaking. “And if I find you the Bringer?”

“I will repay you with eternal life.”

Gotcha. So I can still be immortal. Good. Great, actually. I just have to find the Bringer, and my worries will be over.

“But do not think it will be an easy task,” HE continues. “I trained you for years to make you suitable as a host. You would have to find someone promising. Someone ruthless, intelligent, in good shape. Someone worthy.”

I nod. “I will succeed, my lord.”

“See that you do,” HE says. HE uncrosses HIS arms. “That is all. Do you have anything else to bring to my attention?”

I shake my head. “Nothing, my lord.”

“Very well. Until next time, my priest.”

Like sand in the desert wind, HE begins to dissipate. I watch HIS form reduce to powder and disappear into the air. Once the last particles are gone, the tension in the air leaves.

HE has left.

I gasp for air. That went… well. That went about as well as it could have. I’d jump for joy and beat my fist in the air, but I’m far too tired. Instead, I pick up the cloth and bring it back to the altar, draping it over the stone.

Oh, wait. I just realized something.

I have no idea where to begin.

---​

“Day of court,” Abe had said. As if it would’ve been in any way possible for me to forget.

Now, it’s half past seven and we’re sitting in a cab, on our way to the courthouse. In about half an hour, a process will begin to determine whether I’m going to live or die. We wanted to be there well in time.

“Nervous?” Abe asks.

I nod. “Wouldn’t you be?”

“Can’t argue with that,” he admits. “But, hey… it’ll be alright, you know? Even if you get prison time… we’ll come visit you.”

Not my predominant worry, Abe. But you wouldn’t get it. You don’t fear death like I do. You’re just as ignorant as the rest of them.

“And this is Kanto,” he adds. “Not Unova. Always remember that.”

Well, that much is true. I’m about a hundred times less likely to die via prison stabbing in the former than the latter. Which means I’ll at least get to live out my mortal life instead of dying before I get free.

I yawn. It’s a bit embarrassing. Sure, I usually get up at nine, but I go to bed well in time. Waking up two hours earlier shouldn’t have this big of an effect. Abe yawns, too. Funny how that works. Herd behavior.

In a few minutes’ time, the cab arrives in front of the courthouse. We get out of the car, and Abe pays. He joins me standing by my side afterwards.

“Ready?” he asks.

I sigh. “Ready,” I lie.

And so we go inside.

---​
 
Last edited:
Chapter Two - Introductions New

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
Hi again! The second chapter ended up having very little about it changed, so that's why I'm able to post it this quickly. The biggest change is the removal of the beginning of the Miriam plot, since I've decided not to include it in the reboot.

No particular content warnings outside references to alcohol and drug use as well as mental illness. Rating is teen.

Enjoy!

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CHAPTER TWO
Introductions


---​

“I hereby sentence the defendant to take part in and complete the Ducklett Program.”

The moment the gavel hit the table was the moment a golem’s weight was lifted off my shoulders.

I was free. Well, not completely - I still had the Ducklett Program and the included 100 hours of community service it included to work through - but I wasn’t going to jail. And that meant immortality was still within my grasp. I wouldn’t have to die.

I’d had time to get desperate before. Samson’s testimony, while I’m sure that big softie didn’t even want it to, painted me as someone aware of their actions and their consequences at the time of the possession. I had threatened Samson in order to get the ghost to reveal the pages of the book so I could perform an exorcism and get them out. It didn’t explain, however, why I wouldn’t have simply gone to the cops and told them I was possessed, and this was used as an argument that the ghost may have convinced me they couldn’t be trusted in order to keep itself from being exorcised. Gods bless my lawyer.

And Samson wasn't all that bad, either. His account of my behavior during the exorcism - struggling, yelling incoherencies and screaming in pain - must have also helped my case. The ghost had to have been torturing me somehow, framing it as a malicious agent. And then there had been the carvings on my wrist, suspected of being to blame for the exorcism going lethal and the ghost not surviving. I’d looked at the faded scars right then, thanking my luck that the exorcism happened before they could heal. Joanna would likely still be alive then, and she’d be able to tell the court all about my secret basement and the many murders that have taken place there.

Still, as relieving as it was not to get any prison time, there was an addendum that I couldn’t ignore:

”If the defendant is found guilty of another crime or more incriminating evidence surfaces during the duration of the Program, the defendant’s right to participate in the Program shall be revoked.”

And it was clear that I wouldn’t be let off the hook again.

Abe opens the front door and steps through. I follow.

“Hi!” chimes out His voice. Fonz’s ‘hi’ comes next. I’m so glad to hear His voice again. I was worried it’d have to be through a glass wall next time.

I shut the door behind me, kick off my shoes and come to the living room. Fonz gets up, Him in his claws, and hands Him off to me. As soon as His tentacles touch my skin, I relax.

“So… how about today? Are they done with you?” He asks. What He’s talking about is the fact that the law actually wasn’t so straightforward that court would have only taken a day. It ended up taking five. And I was told that this was normal.

I smile as I sit down on the couch with Him in my lap. “Yes,” I say, “this time they are. And I’m gonna stay free. I have to do some community service, yes, but I won’t go to jail.” Unless I fuck up. Hopefully, I won’t.

“What’s community service?”

“Doing some chores for the city,” I answer. “I don’t know exactly what yet, but I’ll find out tomorrow.” Abe had figured out for me the time and place to go.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay.” He pauses. “Can I… ask you what it was that you got in trouble for in the first place?”

I take a deep breath in. I’ve been keeping it vague so far, but… I suppose I can tell Him.

“Well,” I start, “you may have heard that I was possessed.”

He nods. Well, the way He does it is more of a bob.

“Well, while I was possessed, I took somebody hostage with a knife.”

“Did he get hurt?”

“No.” Unfortunately. “Everyone made it out alive. Except the ghost.”

“Oh. What happened to them?”

“They don’t know. Exorcism went wrong somehow.”

He looks pensive. Is He feeling sorry for the ghost? I guess a mon would have more sympathy for another mon.

“Okay,” He says. Then He nuzzles closer to me. My heart skips a beat.

In response, I hug him close. It squishes Him just a little. I’m so glad I can do this again. Pretending not to love Him was killing me.

We stay like that for a while. I concentrate and feel for the beat of his three hearts. It’s faint, but it’s there. If anyone can feel it, it’s me.

A bad thought interrupts me. That thought I’ve been avoiding. That thought about what’ll happen to Him once Judgment comes. I shudder.

He notices. “Are you cold?”

“Lunchtime!” Fonz yells from the kitchen before I can respond. I lift Him up and bring Him to the kitchen, where a bowl of fresh berries stands on the table. I lower Him next to it, and He begins to eat.

It’s time I excuse myself, anyway. I have to let HIM know how court went.

---​

May 15th, 149

I have decided to keep a journal of my plans and efforts regarding the search for a new Bringer. Starting from last Wednesday, I have six months of time given to me by the Lord of Predators. Finding a new candidate shall be my priority number one.

I must now be more careful than ever before when it comes to anything illegal. Earlier today, I was sentenced to undergo something called the Ducklett Program, which is a rehabilitation program for young first-time offenders who committed their crimes under the influence of drugs, psychosis or spectral possession. I am to meet my fellow group members today at 4 pm.

After court, I briefly visited my lord to inform HIM of my verdict. HIS stance on my plans remained the same as the day before, and HE had nothing to add. After the meeting, I began to plan my next order of business. I have settled on searching a high school for possible candidates for Bringerhood. It is not the school I went to, as people would react to me and blow my cover, but the next school over. I will attempt to identify a socially excluded young male that would seek more power and be hungry enough to earn it. It will take time before I will attempt to recruit anyone, however, as it is key I find a candidate that will not speak.

I hope sincerely that I can find what I am looking for.

Red Akai, High Priest


---​

I didn’t find what I was looking for.

At least not this first time. I still have hope that it’ll be different in the future, but today’s visit did not bode well.

When I walked through the halls of the school, it hit me how difficult this was going to be. I did see some loners, but none of them looked like Bringer material. Just scrawny kids that seemed sorry for being there. No one confident.

I could be wrong, though. Could be that one of them is a crouching raikou. Which is why I’ll go back again tomorrow. And the day after that. And then there’s the weekend, but after that, I’ll return on Monday. I’ll keep going until I get what I’m after or I’ve exhausted every possible lead.

The bus stops, and I step out, arriving in front of the South Viridian Community Center. It's a pale yellow building that's seen better days. I walk up to its wooden front door and enter.

There's a receptionist in the hall, and I make my way to her. "Excuse me," I begin, "what room is the Ducklett Program meeting?"

"Room 6B," she answers, pointing to the hallway to the right. "Down that way."

"Thanks," I say to her and head in the pointed direction, footsteps echoing as they hit the white floor. Room 6B is in front of me in no time. The door appears cracked, so I enter.

Inside, there's a circle of chairs, five people seated on them. Three of them are Tohjoan, two girls and one boy, and the other two boys are dark and pale-skinned respectively. There's two empty chairs in the mix, so I pick one and sit, setting down my backpack that I’d brought to fit in better at the school. The others look at me briefly, but return to tapping on their phones or conversing quietly soon enough.

I scan the room for a clock and find one. The minute hand is just a finger's width from its apex. Looks like I'm right on time.

Only some seconds later, a woman with tan skin enters. "Morning," she says, and the kids respond. I don't want to be the odd one out, so I respond, too.

"So, today we have a new member," she says, seating herself on the last remaining chair. She gestures to me. "Would you like to introduce yourself?"

I nod. "Sure. I'm Ichiro Akai, but everybody knows me as Red. I'm here because I threatened someone with a knife while possessed."

One of the girls, the lanky one with a blue highlight in her hair, peeks up from her staring at her own feet. She still doesn't meet my gaze, though. Meanwhile, the other girl, the curvy one with red hair and glasses, taps furiously at her phone. Weird reactions.

"Alright," the group counselor says. "Well, I'm Malaya. How about we all introduce ourselves to Red?" She turns to the first person to our left, that being the dark-skinned boy.

He raises a hand in a quick greeting. "I'm Jamal. I'm here because I got high and thought it'd be funny to rob a store."

He turns to his left, where the red-haired girl sits. She stops her tapping and looks up at me. "I'm Mei," she said. "I got drunk and tried to hurt my boyfriend." She turns to her left, where the pale boy sits.

"I'm Kristoff," says the pale boy. "I beat someone up while drunk." He turns to the Tohjoan boy, who looks like he’s about to fall asleep any moment.

"I'm Kaito," the Tohjoan said, slowly and words slurred. "I broke into someone's house during a psychotic episode. I swear it seemed like the right thing to do at the time." He turns to the lanky girl, who gazes down at her shoes.

"I-I'm Suki," she said quietly. "I'm here because I… I stabbed my brother. Under possession."

So she had also been possessed, huh. Was that why she reacted the way she did?

The red-haired girl, Mei, suddenly raises a hand. "Can I ask you something?" she asks me.

"Sure?"

"Are you the same Ichiro Akai that had the Twitch?"

Oh.

She must have found that out on her phone.

I sigh. "Yes."

"What was that like? Or, I mean, you don't have to say if you don't want to…"

"It's fine," I say, though I don't know if it is. "It was hell. The day the Voices finally left me was the happiest day of my life."

The lanky girl, Suki, cautiously raises a hand. "Um, what's the Twitch?"

"It's this phenomenon where --" Mei starts, but looks at me. "I'm sorry, do you wanna explain it?"

I suppress a sigh. Might as well. "Sure. It's a phenomenon where thousands of destructive spirits take over a person and manipulate the surrounding people so that they don't notice anything's off. For some reason, they seem to like guiding their victim on a trainer's journey and leave once they win the circuit."

Suki fidgets with her hands. "That… sounds awful," she says.

"It was."

"Alright, let's not press Red too hard on his experience," Malaya chimes in. "Instead, why don't we get to how we've been? Jamal, you can start."

"Okay!" Jamal claps his hands together. "So, I have good news for y'all. I got my 60 day chip yesterday."

The other kids congratulate him and applaud. I clap, too, not really knowing why.

He goes on to talk more about his life, and I find myself tuning out. Every time, though, I force myself to start listening again. I'm supposed to play nice and get along, and paying attention to others is considerate.

But, Gods, this is boring. It’s like reality TV without the manufactured drama, and reality TV with manufactured drama is already unwatchably dull. I just don’t care about any of these people. The only thing remotely interesting would be to hear about their crimes some more, but they avoid talking about it because it’s traumatic or something.

“I keep thinking we can still work through this,” says Mei, to whom the subject shifted while I was spacing out, “but every time something like this happens, I don’t know if it’s actually possible.” She looks up. “What do you guys think?”

Jamal rubs his chin. “Maybe he just needs time,” he says. “The more you spend time together and the more you have those positive moments, the less his brain is gonna be on alarm about you, and the more he can begin to trust you again.”

“Maybe,” Mei mutters. “But what if I’m just wasting time trying to mend something that’s never going to be fixed?”

“That’s a difficult question,” Malaya says. “Unfortunately, that’s a choice that’s ultimately going to be down to your own judgment.”

“I just…” Mei sighs. “I’d already planned my future with him. Marriage, house, kids. And now I don’t know if I’ll ever get those.”

“You’re sure to get those,” Jamal comforts. “You’re a wonderful girl. Any guy would be lucky to have you.”

Mei smiles. “Thanks.”

I scan through the other members of the group. Everyone seems to be listening intently, though Suki still isn’t looking into Mei’s eyes. She seems a bit upset about something, grabbing her palm and rubbing it.

“Well, that’s enough about me,” Mei said. She suddenly locks eyes with me. “How about you, new guy? Do you have something on your mind?”

And just like that, everyone’s looking at me. Even Suki.

I strongly feel like I’m not supposed to say ‘no’. So what should I talk about? Maybe I should talk about something actual on my mind. Gain these people’s trust to an extent. After all, the more I feel like part of this group, the better I would be doing in the program.

“Well,” I say, clearing my throat, “I just got done with court yesterday, and I guess I’m still shaken up about it. I was looking at a possible ten years in jail, but fortunately the judge went easy on me and sentenced me to this program instead.”

“I think we can all relate to that,” said Kaito, and the others nodded.

I cross my arms. “I just hope I can get through this program fine,” I say. “I really don’t wanna end up failing and have to go to jail.”

“Well, if you find yourself having any trouble, come to me and we’ll work it out,” says Malaya. “This program wants people to succeed. We’re on your side.”

I really doubt you’d be taking my side if I was caught committing a murder. “Thanks.”

After a small spell of silence, Kristoff raises his hand. “Could I talk about something now?”

“The floor’s all yours,” Malaya says.

“Alright, so, I finally managed to contact that guy I beat up, and we had an interesting conversation…”

The spotlight off me, I can let my attention slip again.

Time passes, every member contributing something to the conversation with the exception of Suki. I’m not sure I would have noticed if it wasn’t for her divergent behavior, continuing to fidget with her hands and being unable to form eye contact with anyone. I wonder briefly what she’s hiding until I remember I don’t care.

Eventually, after all too long, Malaya speaks up with the lovely words I was awaiting.

“Alright, that’s about it for our time this week,” she says. “It’s time to get to work. We’ll be doing trash duty today.”

Trash duty. Not a social job. Good. I’ve had plenty of socializing for the day.

Everyone gets off their chairs, and so do I. We exit the room together and make our way outside. Two cars are waiting, a white and a blue one, and I’m gestured to enter the blue one. On the driver’s seat sits --

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Hey, everyone!” Samson says once Kaito, Suki and I have seated ourselves in the backseat. “I’m a new volunteer around here, Mark Samson. Call me Samson! I’m more used to it than Mark.”

“Hi, Samson,” Kaito says, and Suki shyly repeats after him. I force myself to say it, too, but only because I know I have to do well here.

“Alright, let’s get you kids to your destination.”

He starts the car and we leave the parking lot. I cross my arms. Kaito leans his head against the window to rest. Suki is still fidgeting with her hands. I could swear she shrank when I looked at her.

The ride passes in awkward silence until we arrive at a field of gravel going by a road. We park and exit the cars. I leave my backpack by the white one, hoping to catch a ride back to the community center on that one instead of Samson’s car. The adult from that car, a middle-aged woman, passes around garbage bags and those remote grabber things. Huh. Beats picking things up with gloves.

“Alright, you know the drill,” the woman says. “Split in two, each one takes a side.”

We split, though not into the same groups we were in the car. It went Jamal, Mei and Kaito and Kristoff, Suki and I. I take note of this. It must be indicative of relationships in the group. It makes sense, too - Jamal, Mei and Kaito were the more social ones. Kristoff feels neutral and Suki, obviously, is shy. And I’m new.

As we spread out to cover ground, I see Samson walking towards me. Oh boy.

“Hi, Red,” he greets, as if we were friends. I guess I have to act like one, too. “How’s it going?”

“Glad I’m not in jail,” I reply, beginning to pick up trash.

“Have you been sleeping well?”

What are you, my doctor? “Yeah, well enough.” Color that my first lie.

“Have you remembered anything new?”

“No.”

“Do you think it’ll come to you in time?”

“I don’t think so.” I stand up and turn to him. “Are you getting at something?”

He recoils ever so slightly. “No, just making conversation,” he said, then grabbed his fingers. “I want things to be good between us.”

Why? Is he so childish that he can’t stand the idea of not being friends with everyone?

“Things are good between us,” I say. “As good as they need to be.”

“Are you sure?” he says, fidgeting. “I know I put you in a tough spot with my testimony. But I was just telling the truth.”

“I wouldn’t ask anything else of you,” I say, turning back to picking up trash. Man, these flattened cigarette butts are tricky to grab. “Besides, you practically said I was being tortured towards the end of the possession. No doubt that helped me.”

“I did try to make it clear you were in pain,” he said and paused. “Maybe it is better you don’t remember. It didn’t seem in any way good.”

“Yeah, well, either way,” I say, looking at him, “we’re good. You can stop worrying.”

He looks like he doesn’t quite believe me. I don’t know how much of that is my attitude and how much of it is his insecurity.

Eventually, though, he takes his hands behind his back. “Well, that’s good to hear,” he sighs, smiling.

Okay, good. Now he’ll leave.

“So, how are your folks? Are they taking this well?”

Son of a bitch. He doesn’t know how to take a hint.

“Yes,” I say, no plans to elaborate.

“What are your folks like, anyway? Mother and father?”

I just wanna tell him to fuck off, but I need to act nice. If I don’t, who knows what he’ll say to the people in charge. That he’s worried about me. And then they’ll pay extra attention to me, and I’ll have to act even nicer to compensate. I guess I have no choice but to surrender and answer his questions nicely.

“Mother and stepfather,” I say. Though neither are really any parents to me.

“Oh, got any siblings?”

“Stepbrother.”

“Any mon companions?”

Of course he had to ask. Of course he had to ask the question that leads to me having to talk about Him. “A nidoking and an omanyte.”

“An omanyte? That’s rare.” He takes the bait like a largemouth magikarp.

“We restored Him from a fossil. Every few months, the scientists come to check up on Him.”

“It’s nice of you to take care of Him.”

It’s entirely motivated by selfish desires, just like everything I do. “If you say so.”

“How about the nidoking? How did you two meet?”

“He’s from the Safari Zone,” I start talking before I realize I have to lie again. I can’t let this guy know I had the Twitch or I’ll never hear the end of his pity. “Another science thing. Volunteered.”

“Are you into science?”

“Somewhat,” I say. Biology has always interested me, and figuring out how things worked led me to take an interest in chemistry and physics as well, even if I never was into the actual calculations and formulae.

“Me, I have a houndoom son,” he says. Son? “He came from a pack back in Castelia, but ran into disagreements with his family. Through a series of events, we ended up adopting him.”

Houndoom. The very symbol of proud predator, and he’s the pet of the biggest mareep. How humiliating. I’d hate to be him. “I see.”

“We have a daughter, too, but a human one,” he says. “Mary. She’s six.”

If he tries to pull out some photos and show them to me, I’m going to scream. “Congratulations.” Do people say congratulations to children that old?

“Yeah, she’s a blessing,” he says. “And so is my wife, Laura. Do you have any significant other?”

I’m celibate. What the hell do you think?

Or, wait. Celibacy is only a requirement for the Bringer. If I’m no longer the Bringer, that means I have the right to date around.

But I don’t want to. Everyone I’d meet would just be another mareep or a predator forced to wear the skin of one. No one I could be in an honest relationship with. Maybe I could have sex, but I haven’t found myself really needing it. I get my satisfaction from hunting and killing.

Then again, I can’t go around doing either of those anymore with all these eyes on me…

Samson chuckles. “Tough question?”

“No, just got lost in thought,” I shoot him down. “I’ve got no one.”

“Aw. Well, you’ll find someone in due time.” He pauses. “If you want one. You don’t have to want one.”

I’m really glad you’re supportive of asexuals. I needed to know that.

He pockets his hands. “It doesn’t even have to be just one…”

As if I would be that lucky. “I get it. Thanks.”

“Well, I’ll get out of your hair now.” He waves a hand and walks off. “Happy trash-picking!”

“Yeah, you have a good one, too.”

He finally leaves. Thank the Gods. I was about to puke from all that sweetness. I shake my head and focus again on the trash.

---​

“Alright, everyone, time to go home!”

Already? Well, I guess it has felt like roughly two hours. I just didn’t expect to not be bored by trash picking. It’s kind of rewarding, actually.

I bring my bag and grabber over and leave both to the woman in charge. I pick up my backpack and wait until I’m allowed to enter the white car. Good. No one forced me to go with Samson instead.

The ride back passes peacefully. Mei and Jamal chat about something that I don’t care about, while Kristoff already left on his own before we got in the car. He must have known how to get back by bus. No doubt there’s an app for that.

App. Phone. Maybe I should try to get a phone now that I have places to be and such. Of course not a smartphone - I’m still not over that - but they do still sell those older models somewhere. At least I think they do. You keep seeing them on TV as burner phones, and even if TV isn’t always realistic, the producers still had to have gotten the prop from somewhere. In any case, I should probably talk to Abe about this. He ought to know more than me.

Arriving at the community center, I thank the woman for the ride and say goodbye to the others. I walk over to the bus stop to wait for bus 10 to swing by, and it’s not long before it does. I get on and find myself a seat. As the bus nudges into motion and the streets of Pallet begin to scroll by, I replay the day's events in my mind.

Eh. I suppose it could have been worse.

---​
 
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