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Hey, everyone! Happy Halloween! This family/horror oneshot was something I've been working on on-and-off for the past year and a half or so. I finally got down to it to finish it for THIS year instead, and here we are!
This story requires NO Hands of Creation knowledge. However, reading it with that in mind, especially if you're caught up, leads to some additional context. It's fun* for everyone!
I never had a second egg.
I ran through the corridors. Those things were after me. The shadows closed in. They filled my lungs and rotted me from the inside. My daughter screamed. I couldn’t. I felt my skin rotting beneath my scales. I couldn’t walk anymore. I was melting into the ground. I was ash. My daughter writhed in pain. Right on top of me. On my remains. It didn’t hurt anymore.
The morning brought a cold chill that stung my scales and seeped into my bones. It didn’t help that I’d woken up gasping for breath like I hadn’t breathed the whole night. I thought I had gone blind, too, but then realized that the sun was still down.
I groaned and felt around for my blankets, but couldn’t find one. We had two. Because of Sugar and Spice, they loved to snuggle up under the covers, but Sugar liked Whystle, and Spice liked me. Or maybe they just wanted to be rivals.
Whystle must have taken it again. That Sceptile always got cold during the winter.
Winter? No snow yet, or he’d be frozen next to me.
I crawled out of my leafy bed and used my tail to pat down the leaves. So dark. I needed some fire. With a steady breath, I channeled my inner fire and breathed a small plume in front of me. Just a flash. There it is, that little thing must have rolled off my desk again.
With a firm tap, the Luminous Orb—this one a portable, palm-sized sphere—lit up the room. I placed it on a wooden desk, realizing with a little annoyance that its usual holder had fallen off again. Now, where could it have gone?
“Anise?”
I jumped, knocked out of my thoughts. There he was. “Whystle. You okay?”
“Making breakfast. Are you alright? I heard you gasp…”
“Oh—I’m fine. Just a strange dream.” One I couldn’t remember. Something about… No, I can’t remember.
“Strange dream, huh? Well, it wasn’t real. C’mon, help me warm up the berry juice.” He held up his left claws with a nervous titter. “The fire spooked me a little.”
“You didn’t ask them to do it, did you?” I asked, worried. Poor Whystle. The kids were going to be the death of him.
Still, I was lovely enough to seduce a Sceptile into dealing with that despite all the poison and fire.
I probably shouldn’t say that one out loud. Bad Salazzle stereotype. They’d start rumors.
“Anise?”
Again, I lost track of everything! “Yes, sorry, sorry.”
“Mom?”
There they are—that one was Sugar. Her voice was a little lower, and she was always groggy in the morning. Spice was always energetic. Where was she?
I felt something grab onto my tail and then scamper up to my shoulders. She giggled the whole time, then pressed her snout against my cheek. “I got you!”
I forgot about my dream completely and leaned my head against her. “You got me,” I said. “Why don’t we start the fire together, Spice? How about you, Sugar?”
“I’m fine.” Sugar looked off, more focused on the wall than anybody else.
It was silent again and I was positive someone was watching me. A claw grabbed my shoulder and I jumped away, only to see that it was Whystle’s.
“Anise, are you okay?” Whystle said. “You seem really out of it.”
“Yes, I—just a little. I’ll help with the fire.”
“It’s okay!” Spice pulled her head out of the small, clay stove, coughing out a plume of smoke. “I lit it!” The Salandit skittered over to the table, and the fire in the stove glowed softly. Its warmth was a welcome change, and Whystle, attracted to it, sat near the oven. I followed him, and my two daughters chattered with one another.
Two.
That’s right. My dream.
I wasn’t sure when, but at some point, I figured out that I had work today. So, in a haze, I slipped out of my home, left Whystle to take care of the kids—Arceus be with him—and then went down the road. Pyrock Village was just ahead and we lived in the outskirts of town, in a small cave that we had made for ourselves a long time ago.
Well, ‘cave’ was an understatement. Whystle was good with construction and had crafted something that I’d hardly call a cave, more a hut. Still, it was something we made by ourselves, made on unsettled land, and therefore we didn’t need to pay a single coin in taxes for it. But getting food the old-fashioned way was long, tiring, cumbersome, and sometimes dangerous, and really, trading a life like that for sitting behind a table for the peak era of the sun was a great deal.
It did get a little boring at times, though.
Every other day—aside from the bigger breaks—I sat in the same, cozy little shop that smelled strongly of incense and other odd vapors, most of them medicinal, some of them for expeditions and rescues. The ground allowed the grass from outside to seep inside, but it stopped abruptly at the entrance. It was mostly so Pokémon that entered could wipe their feet. The floor was solid dirt, and the walls a sturdy stone. Wooden shelves lined my left and right, and decorating each one almost fully were vials and bottles of different shapes, sizes, colors, and—perhaps most importantly—prices.
I didn’t make all of them. But I did help to concoct a few of them with the help of my boss. He wasn’t going to come in until later, though. He was more a marketing and management sort of Pokémon; he was off selling samples for cheap to attract future customers.
Business had been in a small slump lately, probably because of the uptick of wraith attacks, but that was how things were sometimes. It increased sales for rescue supplies, but that wasn’t our specialty. Casual visits took a bigger hit.
I spent my time reading. The North may have been a strange place, but they at least had some decent technology, and these books that you didn’t have to go to a library to look over were incredible. They were also fragile, so I had to be careful my sneezes didn’t have any corrosion or fire in them. Not that different from being with Whystle, I suppose.
This book, a comedy, calmed my nerves. I was still feeling out of it, and the stuffy silence of the incense room made everything feel cloudy. The scents didn’t affect me, though. Maybe my body built up an immunity to it. We Poison-primaries were good at that sort of thing.
Light entered the shop when the door opened, giving a hollow clatter of the wooden wind chimes to indicate a customer had entered. “Hello,” I said leisurely.
“Hi!”
Energetic one. I didn’t mind it much. Wet, slapping sounds followed the rhythm of footsteps and that caught my attention enough to look up.
Oh, gross. A Goodra. Tracking slime everywhere… I suppressed a sigh and figured that if he didn’t go touching things, he wouldn’t cause any trouble. The dirt would absorb the muck when he left.
He had bright eyes. A Luxray and Machamp entered next, perusing wares. I didn’t recognize them, so maybe they were all new customers. They gave the Goodra an odd look—I didn’t blame them. He stood out…
I went back to my book, checking only occasionally to make sure he wasn’t doing anything he shouldn’t. Plap, plap, plap, and then he stopped. Then, plap, plap, plap. I knew that walking pattern so well that I could envision where he was without looking. He browsed the vials for their colors and appearances, maybe secondarily their labels, but not looking deeply into any one.
He came in not knowing what he wanted. I didn’t recognize his face, either. Never knew a Goodra.
“What’s this one do?” he asked, pointing one of his… I don’t know what those things are called, fingers? Fingers. He was pointing at a heart-shaped, red vial with the label ‘Lover’s Heart’ underneath. I sighed inwardly again. My boss had made that one.
“Grants you talent in the nest,” I replied monotonously. Boss wasn’t around; I didn’t have to be enthusiastic about the pseudoscientific ones.
“Oh, I could use that,” he hummed, and horrible images flashed in my mind.
Keeping it professional, I said, “Oh, are you having trouble with that sort of thing? You know, there’s also an incense that helps with endurance…”
“Endurance? Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you meant a talent for sleeping. I have trouble sleeping sometimes.”
I shouldn’t have felt so relieved.
Goodra nibbled on his fingers. “Hmm, I’m sorry. I don’t think there’s anything here.”
“That’s alright,” I replied.
“But if I paid you something, can I ask you something?”
Oh wow, I’m terrified. Well, I may as well prepare to reject him. If he gets violent, I can just act in self-defense. He doesn’t look like much of a fighter.
“What?” I asked.
Goodra set a few coins down on the counter that amounted to about three average-priced potions. To be honest, it was kind of impressive, but that only made the anxious pit in my stomach tighter. He must have some weird tastes…
“Have you seen anything weird around town?” Goodra asked.
Okay, wasn’t expecting that angle. At all. “What?” I asked and decided to take the coins.
Regret. They were slippery.
“Yeah. Anything strange.” Goodra nodded. “I know there are wraiths in the Dungeons, but other things! Anything strange at all?”
This guy was too creepy! Why was he asking me this? I just worked at the shop! The only strange thing that I’ve been dealing with was my weird thoughts about Spice, and that wasn’t important. No way was I going to confess that to some random weirdo.
“Sorry, I don’t know. And I don’t go near Dungeons anyway. Too dangerous.”
“Oh, okay.” Goodra frowned like he didn’t believe me. Was I that obvious? I held my ground. There was no way he’d have the gall to call me a liar in my store. “Well,” he went on, and I stood still, “thank you. Um, you can keep the money. Be careful, alright?”
Be careful? “Thank you, have a good day,” I replied automatically. He left, but not without glancing my way again with those creepy green eyes.
Go away, go away already! And finally, he did, and I finally let out a breath.
Mercifully, the rest of my day went by without incident.
After a pleasant walk through the forest in the early evening, I found my little home down the road and into the bushes. It was quiet and several turns away from any of the other homes—benefits of a thinly populated area—and it glowed welcomingly through the partially covered windows. The ground was wet thanks to some light rain near the end of my shift.
Stepping inside, Whystle was there, going over what sounded like addition and subtraction with the kids. Smiling, I headed to the kitchen to make dinner, only to realize that Whystle had prepared something already. Looked like fish with vegetables. With a relieved smile, I checked its temperature with the back of my knuckle, then blew on it to bring it back to sizzling.
“Ah! Mom’s home, Mom’s home!” Sugar scampered over to me and crawled to my shoulder. “Mom, Mom! Look, look! I know how to add tons of numbers now!”
Most of my vision was obscured by a paper that had her scribblings on it. Impressive, though. They weren’t simple numbers but ones in the hundreds.
“Very good, dear. Learning about that at school, are you?”
“Mhm, mhm! Spice, too!”
“Oh, and where is she?” Sugar was always more energetic in the evening, but usually Spice was, too. It was unlike her to not be with Sugar to greet me.
I checked the bedroom, where Whystle was watching the corner of the room with a frown. There, trembling beneath a bundle of grass, was Spice, her eyes wide and gleaming in the darkness.
“Spice?” I didn’t know what to make of that. Everything seemed fine before I arrived, right? “Honey, was she like this all day?”
“No,” Whystle said. “She just started acting this way. Spice? It’s alright! It’s just Mommy, see?”
She only continued to stare.
“Spice, did something scare you?” he asked.
She stared with her wide eyes and each breath had a little, reptilian hiss behind it. “A bad Pokémon was coming here,” she said quietly. “It was a big purple dragon who was really slimy.”
“Oh, that was just the Goodra,” Whystle explained to me, but my mind was already racing about that Goodra from before. He’d come right here afterward? How did he know where I lived?
“Did he do anything?” I asked back, kneeling in front of Spice. I reached a hand out for her. She didn’t nip at it so I gently scratched under her chin. She relaxed. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “That Goodra was kind, wasn’t he?”
Spice didn’t say anything. She seemed so afraid…
“No,” Whystle said. “He was just lost and I gave him directions. Is… something wrong, Anise?” Whystle asked, his voice a little softer.
Spice and I stared at each other for a little longer. There was something… more in her eyes. She was afraid of something that I didn’t understand. And for some reason, she looked afraid of me, too. Why?
“No,” I finally answered. “No, nothing’s wrong. I’m… going to make dinner. Whystle, can you help?”
“Of course. Sugar, play with Spice, okay?”
“Okay!”
And with that, some semblance of normalcy returned. Nobody seemed to realize anything was wrong except for me. And maybe Spice. Was Spice aware of something I wasn’t? She was… In my dreams, I only had… No, it was a dream.
Why was I putting so much weight on a simple dream?
Whystle was asleep. Sugar and Spice were in their rooms, surely asleep the same way. I could only stare at the ceiling of our humble home, afraid to go into the hallway in case I disturbed Spice. Because it was definitely Spice. Something was wrong with Spice.
No! How could I think that about my own daughter?
Whystle turned in his sleep and lay flat on his belly, pine-scented tail high in the air. It soothed me. I tried to relax, but my mind was racing with the same repetitive thoughts. It was Spice. It had to be Spice. But how could I tell? How could—
Was that black lump always on the ceiling? Was that mold? I need to clean the place. The stress must have made me fall behind…
I closed my eyes and took a long, slow breath. It is fine. It was fine. Nothing was—
Something moved to my right. It was too close and too real for me to ignore. My eyes shot wide, I opened my mouth to shout—
And something smothered my face, wrapped around my muzzle, and muffled any sound I could have hoped to make. I flailed, but my arms were restrained. In the corner of my vision, I caught a glimpse of something black and formless. Beady yellow eyes stared at me.
It was a wraith.
It was a wraith outside a Dungeon. I tried to scream again, to claw at it, to do anything, but it was so much stronger than a wraith should have been. It covered my face and started dragging me away…
I kicked. It caught my legs. My tail whipped in the air, and it grabbed my tail. It knew me so well, every single thing I would have done, it simply stopped.
It sapped me of my strength and curled me into a tightened ball on its back and I’d never felt so helpless. Adrenaline gave way to fear and terror and hopelessness as I pressed my claws deep into its back, trying to bite or spew flames or anything.
Nothing worked. The overcast night turned the forest into nothing but jeering shadows.
It must have dragged me for minutes like this, moving fast once my strength had given out. I wondered… did it get my family first? Did it only want me? Were they safe, at least?
Something scratched under my chin. In any other situation, maybe it would have been comforting, but now I could only cry tears of confusion. Nothing came of it. Was the wraith taunting me?
The air distorted around me. It dragged me into a Dungeon. Oh, skies, it was going to kill me here, wasn’t it? Its den. I found the last of my strength. I balled my fists and tried to scream again. Nothing. I blew flames into its grasp, burning my tongue from the sheer intensity of what I spat, but it endured.
And then everything went white.
I woke up in bed from a horrible nightmare. Everything hurt and I must have blown a few embers in my sleep because my tongue felt burned. Fires like me didn’t usually need a Rawst, but perhaps I could have it for the psychological feel of eating one.
I dreamed about… about… What was that dream? It must have been a dream about being kidnapped. I remembered kicking and struggling against someone unstoppable. What was I…
Must have been a bad dinner. I decided to look at our food in case there was any odd mold.
None. Hm.
“Mom?” Sugar called.
“Ah!” I snapped up from where I had been crouched and smiled at the little Salandit. “Yes, Sug?”
“Spice burned the bed.”
“Oh?”
I set down a dry container of cinnamon and stepped through our leafy home, which seemed brighter today, and checked Spice’s room. It was a lot darker than usual.
Spice was nervously pawing at the ground, trying to put the leaves together, but they were charred black. Very black. Something about that made me nervous, but I shook the thoughts away.
“Oh, Spice. It’s fine. We were going to replace your leaves anyway now that you’re getting bigger.”
“Sorry,” Spice said quietly, looking down with her head dipped.
I stared for a while longer, but then sighed and rubbed Spice under her chin. “That’s a strong fire you have, huh?” she said. “You’ll be big and strong one day, Spice.”
Spice grinned, immediately lighting up. “Yeah! One day!”
Even as Spice giggled and scampered away to find Sugar, I was still left with that small, bothered feeling at the black scorches left behind.
Maybe I should be cautious of… something for now.
Just… something.
I noticed that Spice was staring at me again. “Mom?” she asked.
“Oh—sorry, dear. I didn’t sleep well last night, I think.”
“Oh. I didn’t either.”
Spice wasn’t around in that nightmare. Whystle and Sugar must have been sound asleep. But Spice… Subconsciously, I scratched under my chin. The feeling reminded me of…
Spice and I stared at each other again. There was that knowing fear in Spice’s eyes. “Maybe we should think about what we ate yesterday,” I said. I couldn’t accept the other answer. It wouldn’t make sense.
And Spice relaxed.
The days following passed without much incident. I went to work at the potion shop and returned home when it was over, though… a few times at work, there were odd visitors. I didn’t recognize them, and when they visited, they looked around and left without a word. That was normal occasionally, but so many in one day…
One odd patron had been the Goodra again, but it was only when nobody else was in the store. He offered a smile and bought a potion that was supposed to help with vitality. I didn’t think it was a useful one, but apparently, it did the trick. Maybe it was all in the mind.
I stopped when two Pokémon—a Machamp and a Luxray—stepped on my usual route, blocking the way.
Fight or flight was already bubbling in my chest. They stepped with purpose and were looking right at me.
“Hey,” Machamp said. “Got a sec?”
“No.”
“C’mon.” Machamp smirked. “Just some questions. Cooperate, and that’s all you’ll be dealing with.”
Sometimes I hated the southern kingdom. Too remote. Too rural. If I called for help, there was only maybe… a ten, twenty percent chance someone would hear it. And a hundred percent chance they’d throw me into the dirt or paralyze me, something, to get me away. These were bandits at best. I held my bag of supplies close to my side and crouched, taking on a more defensive stance. The frills of my tail were already priming pheromones to muddle them.
Machamp held up all four arms in an ironically disarming gesture. “Have you been having meetings with a strange Goodra?”
I almost lost my guard but kept it up. “I don’t know him, but he’s been showing up at my shop recently. I don’t know why, but he’s a paying customer.”
“Then… you don’t know who he is.”
“I don’t even know his name.”
Luxray’s intense eyes must have been seeing through me. I wondered if he was somehow staring at my heart with those piercing eyes. How fast it must have been beating…
“He’s not from here. He’s a bit of trouble for the Southern Kingdom, you know.”
“Okay. What of it?” I said. Were they thinking I was some kind of traitor?
The silence was eating at me. I took a few steps along the side of the path to walk past them. They, of course, moved to cut me off.
“We want you to do something on behalf of the King,” Luxray said. “It’ll be easy. Nothing will get pinned on you.”
“I’m really not interested.”
“No, no.” Machamp lunged for me, grabbing my arm. I was too slow and his grip was crushing. “Not a choice.”
I was about to scream when he shoved something in my other hand. It was enough to startle me into silence and then he let go. I stumbled back.
It was a bottle. Some kind of liquid was inside.
“Don’t drink that,” he said. “It’s a poison that’ll cut through even you. Give that to him as a free sample, and you can forget any of this ever happened.”
“I—I can’t do this. Are you serious?” I whispered. “This isn’t—”
“You know,” Luxray said, “I saw your kids. Twin Salandit, eh? Rare. Rare, rare, rare.” Luxray nodded.
The chill that ran through me would’ve put out any inner flame I had.
“…Just keep this quiet. Your family won’t know a thing.”
That was a threat. And I already knew Machamp’s strength. And they worked for the King? This… wasn’t something I wanted to mess with.
I held the bottle a little closer and nodded. “Fine. Can’t do it yourself?”
“’Fraid not. This is… delicate.”
They nodded and left. But as Luxray’s intense eyes remained on me, I knew what this meant. I was being watched. Monitored. I glanced around nervously and I thought I saw something black in the treeline flitting away, but when I actually looked up, there wasn’t anything there. Was that a spy?
Either way… my fate was sealed. I had to follow this one little order.
I couldn’t tell my family a thing.
Dinner into breakfast was a blur. I said I was tired and slept. Spice didn’t do anything weird, thank goodness, and Sugar and Whystle were none the wiser. By the time I was at work, I’d already prepared the strange vial of clear liquid. How did they even know, or expect, that Goodra to return to my place? Were they tracking him for something?
But somehow, they were right. One of the last customers before lunch. Which was awful, because that meant once this guy was dead… oh, what was I thinking? That’s terrible! The death of this innocent Goodra was going to be an inconvenience to my lunch? Now I was as heartless as those thugs.
“Hi!” Goodra greeted, waving.
“He-hello.” Gods, he could probably tell I was nervous. But he kept smiling.
He browsed the wares again. My boss was out sick. I hope he wasn’t dead. No, he wasn’t. They wouldn’t be that horrible.
And then I saw them enter the shop next, acting like customers. The same Machamp and Luxray from before, just like the day before, and the day before that. My stomach was in knots. No way out. Why me?
“Oh, ah,” I said, “I wanted you to try something since you’re… a regular now.”
“Oh! Something? What’s the something?” Goodra asked cheerily.
“It’s… this, a…” My mind went blank. I’d rehearsed something but couldn’t remember it anymore. “It helps you taste things better. It makes sour things sweet.”
“Oh, wow!”
I can’t believe he bought that.
“Sure! I’ll try it!” He happily approached and took the vial. His fate was out of my hands now. I held my breath. Luxray and Machamp both watched curiously as Goodra downed the whole thing in one gulp, setting the vial down. “Ooh, spicy.”
Silence.
“Oh, I need something sour now!” Goodra declared.
“Oh, right! Let me go and—I have some lemon juice. One second.”
I left for the back room and was tempted to not come out. My heart was hammering in my chest. I just killed someone. I killed someone. I was forced, I didn’t have a choice, but…
Goodra was chatting with Luxray and Machamp. Idle conversation. The poison wasn’t fast-acting. Or maybe it needed a few seconds. Maybe it made him fall asleep and they’d haul him away.
Would it at least be painless?
The time I spent in the back room was bleeding into my lunch. I swallowed my anxiety and grabbed a lemon, squeezing it into a hollowed Aspear shell.
“Back, here,” I said. Luxray and Machamp didn’t seem to object to the lemon juice, so I gave it to Goodra, who eagerly drank it.
He suddenly froze. I froze. Everything stopped. The poison must have been activated.
“Ooogh…” Goodra winced, looking like he was in horrible pain. His face scrunched up… more and more…
And then his head folded in on itself, disappearing into his shoulders. I screamed, falling backward; Luxray and Machamp smirked, though they also looked started. The headless Goodra stood there a while longer and I was sure he was dead.
But then… his face… unfolded from his neck. Inflating. The horrible squelching noise I heard was going to be in my nightmares for years.
And finally, he set the lemon juice down. “It didn’t work,” he whimpered. “Sorry… that was super sour…”
Luxray and Machamp’s jaws dropped. I, still on the ground, panted a few times.
“I gotta go,” Goodra said. “I need something sweet… sorry…”
And he wobbled to the exit. Unharmed. Unchanged. The poison had no effect.
“…What did you do?” Luxray snarled at me.
“Wh-what? I just—I used the—maybe it was a bad dose? I did exactly what you wanted me to do! I—”
“You swapped it out,” Machamp said. “You just gave some… spicy potion instead of the poison! Do you think we’re stupid? Just one drop is enough to kill a Snorlax!” He grabbed the bottle.
“DON’T!”
He licked the bottle’s edge, where a drop had remained of the vial. Nothing happened. Did they give me a dud? What was going on?
“…It is a little spicy,” Machamp said.
“We don’t know what the poison tastes like, obviously,” Luxray said, “but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t poison. You… Did you really think you’d fool us?” He plodded forward, electricity dancing on his fangs. Crackles accented his words. “The King doesn’t take too kindly to traitors…”
“I—I promise, I promise, I didn’t do anything!” I begged, envisioning those fangs sinking into my body. This was a nightmare. I couldn’t wake up.
“Then explain!” Luxray roared. “Explain why you—”
A shelf of potions fell to the ground, mixing. Glass shattered deafeningly. Both of us saw Machamp on the floor, contorting in agony, reaching for the bowl of lemon juice that had spilled on the ground. But he could never reach for it. He went stiff, mid-reach, eyes eternally open.
I’d never felt so cold in my life.
“Buddy?” Luxray asked, approaching him. His paw went to Machamp’s neck. I already knew what happened. Was lemon juice an antidote? No, that acted way too fast. Goodra had spent hundreds of seconds with it in his system. But Luxray would think differently…
He turned toward me again, blind fury in his eyes.
I blasted the fallen potions with an ember. It was a gamble. It paid off.
Something—some combination of those potions—reacted and created a bright green smoke that left Luxray in a horrible coughing fit. I fled through the back entrance and sprinted home, envisioning ways that I could leave with my family and never show my face in the Southern Kingdom again. In too deep. Everything went wrong in just one afternoon.
I’d find a quieter home further from the kingdom. Maybe I’d move near Void Basin. Nobody liked it there but it’d be safer than here. Maybe I’d—
I made a wrong turn. Where was I?
I turned around. Something was wrong here. The forest was different. How long had I been running? Curse these Salazzle instincts, I was meant for underground navigation, not a forest! It all looked the same!
By the time my lungs started to burn, I saw a ripple in the distance like a rippling pond set vertically. That’s when my dread redoubled.
That was a distortion. I’d entered a Dungeon without realizing it. This direction felt safe, why had I fallen for that?! Did it somehow draw me in? There were stories of wraiths tricking people to enter their borders. I never thought that it would be so insidious…
Now I had to find a way through without…
CRACK!
I was suddenly on the ground, paralyzed, with stinging pain running up and down my limbs. Something burned. Thunder. I’d been hit by Thunder.
“If you think,” Luxray said, voice shaking with rage, “you’ll get away alive for that stunt… think again. Maybe I’ll do it slowly. Make sure you know you’re gonna die, traitor. Did you think I’d be afraid if you went into a Dungeon?”
I tried to speak but no words came. I couldn’t move at all. The numbness was setting in.
Fleeting thoughts of Whystle and my kids drifted through my mind. Tears filled my vision, fear and desperation fueling my convulsions to get just a few inches further away. Something dark was creeping toward us from the corner of my vision.
Luxray’s powerful paw pressed into my thigh. Claws dug through my scales effortlessly. The pain was dull. The paralysis didn’t settle in completely.
A cruel smirk showed his fangs. “Maybe you’ll see my buddy soon so he can kill you all over again in the spirit world,” he said, running a claw along my thigh, splitting scales from the flesh.
“See that?” Luxray asked, pressing his bloodied paw in my face. “That’s yours. Want to see more?”
He laughed lowly. The paralysis was wearing off but the pain took its place. Oh, gods, what did he do to my leg?
The Luxray’s paw rose for a decisive swipe. I squeezed my eyes shut, awaiting the worst.
And waited.
And waited…
Luxray gurgled out a scream. When I dared to open my eyes, he was struggling against a strange, dark thing that had embedded itself into his chest and out through his back. A horrible head and mouth emerged on his back and clamped onto the back of his neck, clearing the fur and skin all at once.
Its head jerked left and right. I heard a pop! and a crack! and Luxray’s limbs stopped entirely. He folded onto the ground, head tilted to face me. He was still blinking. The wraith crawled out of his back as crimson spread over the dirt. His eyes darted toward it. He tried to scream, to bite, to snarl, but the wraith went over his eyes. His head twitched a few times. I heard… crunching… oh, gods, the crunching.
Luxray stopped moving.
I couldn’t see his face. The wraith, shapeless except for two yellow eyes and something that vaguely looked like limbs, stared at me next. Crawled toward me. The pain was so much.
This was worse. I was going to die to a wraith. What… what then?
I closed my eyes again and waited for the end. Maybe if I was blind it’d be faster. Or… I could fight. I could swing one last time. I balled up my fists—I could move again—and swung forward. Clumsy. But I had to fight. I had a family. I had two daughters. Or… one. No, two. I couldn’t think.
I struck the wraith. My fist sank into its amorphous, sticky form… didn’t do anything. It kept advancing.
That’s when I realized it wasn’t alone. More wraiths were coming closer, waiting to feast. They were all at the edges of the Dungeon’s chamber.
The wraith that killed Luxray was now crawling over me, resting atop my ribs. It reminded me of the horrible dreams of my daughter screaming and my helpless form in the dirt.
Then, the wraith made a strange, deep hissing noise. The other wraiths halted their advance. The one on me hissed again, firing little embers at them.
One by one, the wraiths returned to the shadows.
Everything was getting dark. How open was my wound? Did the wraith simply want me all for itself?
It’ll be okay, I thought I heard from a voice that was warped yet familiar.
Something purple lumbered into the room next. It smelled like that strange Goodra from earlier and his sickly sweet aroma.
“Oh,” he said as his walking picked up. “You’re. . .”
I was fading in and out of consciousness. What was he saying? I couldn’t see anything. I heard the wraith hissing. Then the Goodra said something placatingly.
I knew nothing of what happened after.
“. . . dinner?”
“I’m trying, I just don’t… I’m not good with the fire like your mother is, Sugar…”
“I can show you!”
“Yeah, Spice can!”
“Aww, you’re too young to start cooking!”
That last voice I recognized, but he wasn’t family.
Everything hurt. No, not everything. Mostly my leg.
Leg?
I jolted in my nest, soft and familiar. My tail spasmed enough that the others must have noticed.
“Anise?” Whystle asked.
I took a breath. I was afraid to speak. My fight or flight still left me too anxious to make a sound.
“Anise, are you awake? You’re home. It’s okay, you’re home.”
Home. Okay? Then that wasn’t a dream. “I’m fine,” I said.
“Thank goodness…”
The Goodra peered into my room—he was the new voice. “See, I told you!” he said cheerily. “Northern blessings are pretty strong, huh?”
“Er, right.” Whystle sat next to me and gently placed a hand on my shoulder. The familiar touch relaxed me enough to breathe evenly.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Spice saw you running into a Dungeon and away from a Luxray,” Whystle said. “She let us know. We were about to set up a rescue party, but then Goodra here—his name is Anam—he managed to rescue you while passing through.”
“Was… Luxray your friend?” Anam asked nervously, poking his grabbers together.
“…No. He…” I glanced at my kids. “No. He wasn’t. He wasn’t a good Pokémon.”
Something wasn’t adding up. This felt too real to be a dream. But I should have died.
“Oh. Okay.” Anam nodded. “Um. Well… he’s…” He also glanced at the kids. “Not around to bother you anymore.”
Then he did die. What a horrible fate.
“But don’t worry,” Anam said. “I saved him!”
I was too tired to ask what that meant. Instead, I nodded and said, “Thank you… I… don’t know what happened. There were… wraiths, and…”
Spice shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze.
Spice…
Time froze.
The events ran through my head with more clarity. Lured into the Dungeon; it felt like I’d been going home. But what if I’d been approaching Spice?
Spice, who was in the Dungeon… as… as…
And I realized… so many things. So many little things. The knowing looks, that terrified stare Spice had. And this Goodra… What about him was so special? Why did Spice fear him? What did he know?
“Anam,” I said. I didn’t want to ask it but I had to. I had to seize the opportunity. “How was my daughter, Spice? Was she safe? Did nobody harm her when she saw me?”
Whystle frowned at that. “She came straight home when she saw you running.”
I didn’t buy that. Only Spice was around. And she…
“Your daughter,” Anam said, “was super duper brave! And smart! She went right home, yep, and was right there with Papa and Sister when I brought you back.”
Spice flinched, behind all the others. Only I saw the reaction. That was a lie. Spice knew it was a lie. But Anam seemed to know it was a lie. When I looked into his eyes, there was a faint hint… that I should play along.
“…That… I…” I rubbed my head, closing my eyes. “Good. I’m glad,” I said. “I’m glad Spice is so resourceful. But…” I frowned, staring pointedly at her. “You should… not wander too far! If Luxray found you instead…”
“Sorry…” Spice bowed her head. The little Salandit pawed on the ground, stealing a few glances at Anam. But that fear in her eyes had faded.
“She didn’t wander far,” Anam said. “She’s very good. You have a nice daughter! Um, two daughters!”
Spice was holding her breath. There was a strange… forcefulness in the way Anam spoke.
Two daughters…
I chuckled a little and rested against my nest. “Who are you, Anam?”
“Aw, I’m just traveling! Seeing other parts of the world. Oh, and taking care of wraiths and Dungeons. I try to make sure that they can’t bother people. It sure is a good thing wraiths can’t leave Dungeons! I have a sixth sense for them.”
“Oh, I see.” That was a lie, wasn’t it? Some of it… was. Or… wasn’t it? Ugh, this Goodra was so confusing. “Well, thank you for being where you were. Spice, thank Anam, too.”
“H-huh?” Spice flinched. She stared at the Goodra, who only smiled wider.
If Anam could sense wraiths, and he hunted them… and Spice was right there… Then whatever Spice was, she was different. Maybe she was a wraith. But someone like Anam made an exception.
And Spice saved my life.
“Oh. Um… thank you…” Spice poked the ground, looking guilty.
Anam beamed and leaned forward, holding out his hand far, far down. “It was nice to meet you, Spice. Keep being smart and brave, okay? And nice, too!”
“Okay.” She reluctantly took his hand and shook it. A string of slime connected them, which she wiped on the ground with a grimace.
“Anyway,” Anam said, “it smells like dinner’s ready! Do you need help standing?”
“No, I think I’ll be fine,” I said. “…Spice?”
She jolted up. “Huh?”
“Let’s go have dinner. Maybe you and Mister Anam can fill me in on what happened. My memory is a little foggy…”
“Oh, it is?” Spice asked. “Foggy how?”
Spice was also the one who had manipulated me before, hadn’t she? Manipulated the whole family to think she’d always been there. It was all her.
Was that all she wanted? In her own, strange, wraith-like way, did she desperately want… family?
“I can’t seem to remember what happened in the Dungeon,” I explained. “I remember the Luxray attacking me… and then I saw someone purple?”
“Oh.” Spice relaxed. “It’s okay. Mister Anam just saved you.”
I nodded more easily. “I see. Well… thank you, Anam.”
I hobbled over to the dinner table. My leg ached, but the wound was gone. The bruised feeling will fade.
It occurred to me that Spice, if all these other things were true, could have… replaced Sugar. Killed her and took her place. It was a horrible, terrifying thought, but it was also what didn’t happen. Spice chose the harder route, convincing a whole family that they had two children instead of simply replacing the one.
In her twisted way… Spice was kind, too. That must have been what Anam was urging.
I would place my faith in his judgment. And I would place my faith in Spice’s protection.
Perhaps I never had that second egg. But… the second one deserved a part in the family anyway.
Just in case, I’d watch over her quietly. Support her. And try my best to understand.
In the end, it’s all a mother could do.
This story requires NO Hands of Creation knowledge. However, reading it with that in mind, especially if you're caught up, leads to some additional context. It's fun* for everyone!
This story is rated Teen for suggestive themes and humor, blood/violence, implied gore, and disturbing themes.
The Second One
I never had a second egg.
I ran through the corridors. Those things were after me. The shadows closed in. They filled my lungs and rotted me from the inside. My daughter screamed. I couldn’t. I felt my skin rotting beneath my scales. I couldn’t walk anymore. I was melting into the ground. I was ash. My daughter writhed in pain. Right on top of me. On my remains. It didn’t hurt anymore.
The morning brought a cold chill that stung my scales and seeped into my bones. It didn’t help that I’d woken up gasping for breath like I hadn’t breathed the whole night. I thought I had gone blind, too, but then realized that the sun was still down.
I groaned and felt around for my blankets, but couldn’t find one. We had two. Because of Sugar and Spice, they loved to snuggle up under the covers, but Sugar liked Whystle, and Spice liked me. Or maybe they just wanted to be rivals.
Whystle must have taken it again. That Sceptile always got cold during the winter.
Winter? No snow yet, or he’d be frozen next to me.
I crawled out of my leafy bed and used my tail to pat down the leaves. So dark. I needed some fire. With a steady breath, I channeled my inner fire and breathed a small plume in front of me. Just a flash. There it is, that little thing must have rolled off my desk again.
With a firm tap, the Luminous Orb—this one a portable, palm-sized sphere—lit up the room. I placed it on a wooden desk, realizing with a little annoyance that its usual holder had fallen off again. Now, where could it have gone?
“Anise?”
I jumped, knocked out of my thoughts. There he was. “Whystle. You okay?”
“Making breakfast. Are you alright? I heard you gasp…”
“Oh—I’m fine. Just a strange dream.” One I couldn’t remember. Something about… No, I can’t remember.
“Strange dream, huh? Well, it wasn’t real. C’mon, help me warm up the berry juice.” He held up his left claws with a nervous titter. “The fire spooked me a little.”
“You didn’t ask them to do it, did you?” I asked, worried. Poor Whystle. The kids were going to be the death of him.
Still, I was lovely enough to seduce a Sceptile into dealing with that despite all the poison and fire.
I probably shouldn’t say that one out loud. Bad Salazzle stereotype. They’d start rumors.
“Anise?”
Again, I lost track of everything! “Yes, sorry, sorry.”
“Mom?”
There they are—that one was Sugar. Her voice was a little lower, and she was always groggy in the morning. Spice was always energetic. Where was she?
I felt something grab onto my tail and then scamper up to my shoulders. She giggled the whole time, then pressed her snout against my cheek. “I got you!”
I forgot about my dream completely and leaned my head against her. “You got me,” I said. “Why don’t we start the fire together, Spice? How about you, Sugar?”
“I’m fine.” Sugar looked off, more focused on the wall than anybody else.
It was silent again and I was positive someone was watching me. A claw grabbed my shoulder and I jumped away, only to see that it was Whystle’s.
“Anise, are you okay?” Whystle said. “You seem really out of it.”
“Yes, I—just a little. I’ll help with the fire.”
“It’s okay!” Spice pulled her head out of the small, clay stove, coughing out a plume of smoke. “I lit it!” The Salandit skittered over to the table, and the fire in the stove glowed softly. Its warmth was a welcome change, and Whystle, attracted to it, sat near the oven. I followed him, and my two daughters chattered with one another.
Two.
That’s right. My dream.
<><><>
I wasn’t sure when, but at some point, I figured out that I had work today. So, in a haze, I slipped out of my home, left Whystle to take care of the kids—Arceus be with him—and then went down the road. Pyrock Village was just ahead and we lived in the outskirts of town, in a small cave that we had made for ourselves a long time ago.
Well, ‘cave’ was an understatement. Whystle was good with construction and had crafted something that I’d hardly call a cave, more a hut. Still, it was something we made by ourselves, made on unsettled land, and therefore we didn’t need to pay a single coin in taxes for it. But getting food the old-fashioned way was long, tiring, cumbersome, and sometimes dangerous, and really, trading a life like that for sitting behind a table for the peak era of the sun was a great deal.
It did get a little boring at times, though.
Every other day—aside from the bigger breaks—I sat in the same, cozy little shop that smelled strongly of incense and other odd vapors, most of them medicinal, some of them for expeditions and rescues. The ground allowed the grass from outside to seep inside, but it stopped abruptly at the entrance. It was mostly so Pokémon that entered could wipe their feet. The floor was solid dirt, and the walls a sturdy stone. Wooden shelves lined my left and right, and decorating each one almost fully were vials and bottles of different shapes, sizes, colors, and—perhaps most importantly—prices.
I didn’t make all of them. But I did help to concoct a few of them with the help of my boss. He wasn’t going to come in until later, though. He was more a marketing and management sort of Pokémon; he was off selling samples for cheap to attract future customers.
Business had been in a small slump lately, probably because of the uptick of wraith attacks, but that was how things were sometimes. It increased sales for rescue supplies, but that wasn’t our specialty. Casual visits took a bigger hit.
I spent my time reading. The North may have been a strange place, but they at least had some decent technology, and these books that you didn’t have to go to a library to look over were incredible. They were also fragile, so I had to be careful my sneezes didn’t have any corrosion or fire in them. Not that different from being with Whystle, I suppose.
This book, a comedy, calmed my nerves. I was still feeling out of it, and the stuffy silence of the incense room made everything feel cloudy. The scents didn’t affect me, though. Maybe my body built up an immunity to it. We Poison-primaries were good at that sort of thing.
Light entered the shop when the door opened, giving a hollow clatter of the wooden wind chimes to indicate a customer had entered. “Hello,” I said leisurely.
“Hi!”
Energetic one. I didn’t mind it much. Wet, slapping sounds followed the rhythm of footsteps and that caught my attention enough to look up.
Oh, gross. A Goodra. Tracking slime everywhere… I suppressed a sigh and figured that if he didn’t go touching things, he wouldn’t cause any trouble. The dirt would absorb the muck when he left.
He had bright eyes. A Luxray and Machamp entered next, perusing wares. I didn’t recognize them, so maybe they were all new customers. They gave the Goodra an odd look—I didn’t blame them. He stood out…
I went back to my book, checking only occasionally to make sure he wasn’t doing anything he shouldn’t. Plap, plap, plap, and then he stopped. Then, plap, plap, plap. I knew that walking pattern so well that I could envision where he was without looking. He browsed the vials for their colors and appearances, maybe secondarily their labels, but not looking deeply into any one.
He came in not knowing what he wanted. I didn’t recognize his face, either. Never knew a Goodra.
“What’s this one do?” he asked, pointing one of his… I don’t know what those things are called, fingers? Fingers. He was pointing at a heart-shaped, red vial with the label ‘Lover’s Heart’ underneath. I sighed inwardly again. My boss had made that one.
“Grants you talent in the nest,” I replied monotonously. Boss wasn’t around; I didn’t have to be enthusiastic about the pseudoscientific ones.
“Oh, I could use that,” he hummed, and horrible images flashed in my mind.
Keeping it professional, I said, “Oh, are you having trouble with that sort of thing? You know, there’s also an incense that helps with endurance…”
“Endurance? Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you meant a talent for sleeping. I have trouble sleeping sometimes.”
I shouldn’t have felt so relieved.
Goodra nibbled on his fingers. “Hmm, I’m sorry. I don’t think there’s anything here.”
“That’s alright,” I replied.
“But if I paid you something, can I ask you something?”
Oh wow, I’m terrified. Well, I may as well prepare to reject him. If he gets violent, I can just act in self-defense. He doesn’t look like much of a fighter.
“What?” I asked.
Goodra set a few coins down on the counter that amounted to about three average-priced potions. To be honest, it was kind of impressive, but that only made the anxious pit in my stomach tighter. He must have some weird tastes…
“Have you seen anything weird around town?” Goodra asked.
Okay, wasn’t expecting that angle. At all. “What?” I asked and decided to take the coins.
Regret. They were slippery.
“Yeah. Anything strange.” Goodra nodded. “I know there are wraiths in the Dungeons, but other things! Anything strange at all?”
This guy was too creepy! Why was he asking me this? I just worked at the shop! The only strange thing that I’ve been dealing with was my weird thoughts about Spice, and that wasn’t important. No way was I going to confess that to some random weirdo.
“Sorry, I don’t know. And I don’t go near Dungeons anyway. Too dangerous.”
“Oh, okay.” Goodra frowned like he didn’t believe me. Was I that obvious? I held my ground. There was no way he’d have the gall to call me a liar in my store. “Well,” he went on, and I stood still, “thank you. Um, you can keep the money. Be careful, alright?”
Be careful? “Thank you, have a good day,” I replied automatically. He left, but not without glancing my way again with those creepy green eyes.
Go away, go away already! And finally, he did, and I finally let out a breath.
Mercifully, the rest of my day went by without incident.
<><><>
After a pleasant walk through the forest in the early evening, I found my little home down the road and into the bushes. It was quiet and several turns away from any of the other homes—benefits of a thinly populated area—and it glowed welcomingly through the partially covered windows. The ground was wet thanks to some light rain near the end of my shift.
Stepping inside, Whystle was there, going over what sounded like addition and subtraction with the kids. Smiling, I headed to the kitchen to make dinner, only to realize that Whystle had prepared something already. Looked like fish with vegetables. With a relieved smile, I checked its temperature with the back of my knuckle, then blew on it to bring it back to sizzling.
“Ah! Mom’s home, Mom’s home!” Sugar scampered over to me and crawled to my shoulder. “Mom, Mom! Look, look! I know how to add tons of numbers now!”
Most of my vision was obscured by a paper that had her scribblings on it. Impressive, though. They weren’t simple numbers but ones in the hundreds.
“Very good, dear. Learning about that at school, are you?”
“Mhm, mhm! Spice, too!”
“Oh, and where is she?” Sugar was always more energetic in the evening, but usually Spice was, too. It was unlike her to not be with Sugar to greet me.
I checked the bedroom, where Whystle was watching the corner of the room with a frown. There, trembling beneath a bundle of grass, was Spice, her eyes wide and gleaming in the darkness.
“Spice?” I didn’t know what to make of that. Everything seemed fine before I arrived, right? “Honey, was she like this all day?”
“No,” Whystle said. “She just started acting this way. Spice? It’s alright! It’s just Mommy, see?”
She only continued to stare.
“Spice, did something scare you?” he asked.
She stared with her wide eyes and each breath had a little, reptilian hiss behind it. “A bad Pokémon was coming here,” she said quietly. “It was a big purple dragon who was really slimy.”
“Oh, that was just the Goodra,” Whystle explained to me, but my mind was already racing about that Goodra from before. He’d come right here afterward? How did he know where I lived?
“Did he do anything?” I asked back, kneeling in front of Spice. I reached a hand out for her. She didn’t nip at it so I gently scratched under her chin. She relaxed. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “That Goodra was kind, wasn’t he?”
Spice didn’t say anything. She seemed so afraid…
“No,” Whystle said. “He was just lost and I gave him directions. Is… something wrong, Anise?” Whystle asked, his voice a little softer.
Spice and I stared at each other for a little longer. There was something… more in her eyes. She was afraid of something that I didn’t understand. And for some reason, she looked afraid of me, too. Why?
“No,” I finally answered. “No, nothing’s wrong. I’m… going to make dinner. Whystle, can you help?”
“Of course. Sugar, play with Spice, okay?”
“Okay!”
And with that, some semblance of normalcy returned. Nobody seemed to realize anything was wrong except for me. And maybe Spice. Was Spice aware of something I wasn’t? She was… In my dreams, I only had… No, it was a dream.
Why was I putting so much weight on a simple dream?
<><><>
Whystle was asleep. Sugar and Spice were in their rooms, surely asleep the same way. I could only stare at the ceiling of our humble home, afraid to go into the hallway in case I disturbed Spice. Because it was definitely Spice. Something was wrong with Spice.
No! How could I think that about my own daughter?
Whystle turned in his sleep and lay flat on his belly, pine-scented tail high in the air. It soothed me. I tried to relax, but my mind was racing with the same repetitive thoughts. It was Spice. It had to be Spice. But how could I tell? How could—
Was that black lump always on the ceiling? Was that mold? I need to clean the place. The stress must have made me fall behind…
I closed my eyes and took a long, slow breath. It is fine. It was fine. Nothing was—
Something moved to my right. It was too close and too real for me to ignore. My eyes shot wide, I opened my mouth to shout—
And something smothered my face, wrapped around my muzzle, and muffled any sound I could have hoped to make. I flailed, but my arms were restrained. In the corner of my vision, I caught a glimpse of something black and formless. Beady yellow eyes stared at me.
It was a wraith.
It was a wraith outside a Dungeon. I tried to scream again, to claw at it, to do anything, but it was so much stronger than a wraith should have been. It covered my face and started dragging me away…
I kicked. It caught my legs. My tail whipped in the air, and it grabbed my tail. It knew me so well, every single thing I would have done, it simply stopped.
It sapped me of my strength and curled me into a tightened ball on its back and I’d never felt so helpless. Adrenaline gave way to fear and terror and hopelessness as I pressed my claws deep into its back, trying to bite or spew flames or anything.
Nothing worked. The overcast night turned the forest into nothing but jeering shadows.
It must have dragged me for minutes like this, moving fast once my strength had given out. I wondered… did it get my family first? Did it only want me? Were they safe, at least?
Something scratched under my chin. In any other situation, maybe it would have been comforting, but now I could only cry tears of confusion. Nothing came of it. Was the wraith taunting me?
The air distorted around me. It dragged me into a Dungeon. Oh, skies, it was going to kill me here, wasn’t it? Its den. I found the last of my strength. I balled my fists and tried to scream again. Nothing. I blew flames into its grasp, burning my tongue from the sheer intensity of what I spat, but it endured.
And then everything went white.
<><><>
I woke up in bed from a horrible nightmare. Everything hurt and I must have blown a few embers in my sleep because my tongue felt burned. Fires like me didn’t usually need a Rawst, but perhaps I could have it for the psychological feel of eating one.
I dreamed about… about… What was that dream? It must have been a dream about being kidnapped. I remembered kicking and struggling against someone unstoppable. What was I…
Must have been a bad dinner. I decided to look at our food in case there was any odd mold.
None. Hm.
“Mom?” Sugar called.
“Ah!” I snapped up from where I had been crouched and smiled at the little Salandit. “Yes, Sug?”
“Spice burned the bed.”
“Oh?”
I set down a dry container of cinnamon and stepped through our leafy home, which seemed brighter today, and checked Spice’s room. It was a lot darker than usual.
Spice was nervously pawing at the ground, trying to put the leaves together, but they were charred black. Very black. Something about that made me nervous, but I shook the thoughts away.
“Oh, Spice. It’s fine. We were going to replace your leaves anyway now that you’re getting bigger.”
“Sorry,” Spice said quietly, looking down with her head dipped.
I stared for a while longer, but then sighed and rubbed Spice under her chin. “That’s a strong fire you have, huh?” she said. “You’ll be big and strong one day, Spice.”
Spice grinned, immediately lighting up. “Yeah! One day!”
Even as Spice giggled and scampered away to find Sugar, I was still left with that small, bothered feeling at the black scorches left behind.
Maybe I should be cautious of… something for now.
Just… something.
I noticed that Spice was staring at me again. “Mom?” she asked.
“Oh—sorry, dear. I didn’t sleep well last night, I think.”
“Oh. I didn’t either.”
Spice wasn’t around in that nightmare. Whystle and Sugar must have been sound asleep. But Spice… Subconsciously, I scratched under my chin. The feeling reminded me of…
Spice and I stared at each other again. There was that knowing fear in Spice’s eyes. “Maybe we should think about what we ate yesterday,” I said. I couldn’t accept the other answer. It wouldn’t make sense.
And Spice relaxed.
<><><>
The days following passed without much incident. I went to work at the potion shop and returned home when it was over, though… a few times at work, there were odd visitors. I didn’t recognize them, and when they visited, they looked around and left without a word. That was normal occasionally, but so many in one day…
One odd patron had been the Goodra again, but it was only when nobody else was in the store. He offered a smile and bought a potion that was supposed to help with vitality. I didn’t think it was a useful one, but apparently, it did the trick. Maybe it was all in the mind.
I stopped when two Pokémon—a Machamp and a Luxray—stepped on my usual route, blocking the way.
Fight or flight was already bubbling in my chest. They stepped with purpose and were looking right at me.
“Hey,” Machamp said. “Got a sec?”
“No.”
“C’mon.” Machamp smirked. “Just some questions. Cooperate, and that’s all you’ll be dealing with.”
Sometimes I hated the southern kingdom. Too remote. Too rural. If I called for help, there was only maybe… a ten, twenty percent chance someone would hear it. And a hundred percent chance they’d throw me into the dirt or paralyze me, something, to get me away. These were bandits at best. I held my bag of supplies close to my side and crouched, taking on a more defensive stance. The frills of my tail were already priming pheromones to muddle them.
Machamp held up all four arms in an ironically disarming gesture. “Have you been having meetings with a strange Goodra?”
I almost lost my guard but kept it up. “I don’t know him, but he’s been showing up at my shop recently. I don’t know why, but he’s a paying customer.”
“Then… you don’t know who he is.”
“I don’t even know his name.”
Luxray’s intense eyes must have been seeing through me. I wondered if he was somehow staring at my heart with those piercing eyes. How fast it must have been beating…
“He’s not from here. He’s a bit of trouble for the Southern Kingdom, you know.”
“Okay. What of it?” I said. Were they thinking I was some kind of traitor?
The silence was eating at me. I took a few steps along the side of the path to walk past them. They, of course, moved to cut me off.
“We want you to do something on behalf of the King,” Luxray said. “It’ll be easy. Nothing will get pinned on you.”
“I’m really not interested.”
“No, no.” Machamp lunged for me, grabbing my arm. I was too slow and his grip was crushing. “Not a choice.”
I was about to scream when he shoved something in my other hand. It was enough to startle me into silence and then he let go. I stumbled back.
It was a bottle. Some kind of liquid was inside.
“Don’t drink that,” he said. “It’s a poison that’ll cut through even you. Give that to him as a free sample, and you can forget any of this ever happened.”
“I—I can’t do this. Are you serious?” I whispered. “This isn’t—”
“You know,” Luxray said, “I saw your kids. Twin Salandit, eh? Rare. Rare, rare, rare.” Luxray nodded.
The chill that ran through me would’ve put out any inner flame I had.
“…Just keep this quiet. Your family won’t know a thing.”
That was a threat. And I already knew Machamp’s strength. And they worked for the King? This… wasn’t something I wanted to mess with.
I held the bottle a little closer and nodded. “Fine. Can’t do it yourself?”
“’Fraid not. This is… delicate.”
They nodded and left. But as Luxray’s intense eyes remained on me, I knew what this meant. I was being watched. Monitored. I glanced around nervously and I thought I saw something black in the treeline flitting away, but when I actually looked up, there wasn’t anything there. Was that a spy?
Either way… my fate was sealed. I had to follow this one little order.
I couldn’t tell my family a thing.
<><><>
Dinner into breakfast was a blur. I said I was tired and slept. Spice didn’t do anything weird, thank goodness, and Sugar and Whystle were none the wiser. By the time I was at work, I’d already prepared the strange vial of clear liquid. How did they even know, or expect, that Goodra to return to my place? Were they tracking him for something?
But somehow, they were right. One of the last customers before lunch. Which was awful, because that meant once this guy was dead… oh, what was I thinking? That’s terrible! The death of this innocent Goodra was going to be an inconvenience to my lunch? Now I was as heartless as those thugs.
“Hi!” Goodra greeted, waving.
“He-hello.” Gods, he could probably tell I was nervous. But he kept smiling.
He browsed the wares again. My boss was out sick. I hope he wasn’t dead. No, he wasn’t. They wouldn’t be that horrible.
And then I saw them enter the shop next, acting like customers. The same Machamp and Luxray from before, just like the day before, and the day before that. My stomach was in knots. No way out. Why me?
“Oh, ah,” I said, “I wanted you to try something since you’re… a regular now.”
“Oh! Something? What’s the something?” Goodra asked cheerily.
“It’s… this, a…” My mind went blank. I’d rehearsed something but couldn’t remember it anymore. “It helps you taste things better. It makes sour things sweet.”
“Oh, wow!”
I can’t believe he bought that.
“Sure! I’ll try it!” He happily approached and took the vial. His fate was out of my hands now. I held my breath. Luxray and Machamp both watched curiously as Goodra downed the whole thing in one gulp, setting the vial down. “Ooh, spicy.”
Silence.
“Oh, I need something sour now!” Goodra declared.
“Oh, right! Let me go and—I have some lemon juice. One second.”
I left for the back room and was tempted to not come out. My heart was hammering in my chest. I just killed someone. I killed someone. I was forced, I didn’t have a choice, but…
Goodra was chatting with Luxray and Machamp. Idle conversation. The poison wasn’t fast-acting. Or maybe it needed a few seconds. Maybe it made him fall asleep and they’d haul him away.
Would it at least be painless?
The time I spent in the back room was bleeding into my lunch. I swallowed my anxiety and grabbed a lemon, squeezing it into a hollowed Aspear shell.
“Back, here,” I said. Luxray and Machamp didn’t seem to object to the lemon juice, so I gave it to Goodra, who eagerly drank it.
He suddenly froze. I froze. Everything stopped. The poison must have been activated.
“Ooogh…” Goodra winced, looking like he was in horrible pain. His face scrunched up… more and more…
And then his head folded in on itself, disappearing into his shoulders. I screamed, falling backward; Luxray and Machamp smirked, though they also looked started. The headless Goodra stood there a while longer and I was sure he was dead.
But then… his face… unfolded from his neck. Inflating. The horrible squelching noise I heard was going to be in my nightmares for years.
And finally, he set the lemon juice down. “It didn’t work,” he whimpered. “Sorry… that was super sour…”
Luxray and Machamp’s jaws dropped. I, still on the ground, panted a few times.
“I gotta go,” Goodra said. “I need something sweet… sorry…”
And he wobbled to the exit. Unharmed. Unchanged. The poison had no effect.
“…What did you do?” Luxray snarled at me.
“Wh-what? I just—I used the—maybe it was a bad dose? I did exactly what you wanted me to do! I—”
“You swapped it out,” Machamp said. “You just gave some… spicy potion instead of the poison! Do you think we’re stupid? Just one drop is enough to kill a Snorlax!” He grabbed the bottle.
“DON’T!”
He licked the bottle’s edge, where a drop had remained of the vial. Nothing happened. Did they give me a dud? What was going on?
“…It is a little spicy,” Machamp said.
“We don’t know what the poison tastes like, obviously,” Luxray said, “but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t poison. You… Did you really think you’d fool us?” He plodded forward, electricity dancing on his fangs. Crackles accented his words. “The King doesn’t take too kindly to traitors…”
“I—I promise, I promise, I didn’t do anything!” I begged, envisioning those fangs sinking into my body. This was a nightmare. I couldn’t wake up.
“Then explain!” Luxray roared. “Explain why you—”
A shelf of potions fell to the ground, mixing. Glass shattered deafeningly. Both of us saw Machamp on the floor, contorting in agony, reaching for the bowl of lemon juice that had spilled on the ground. But he could never reach for it. He went stiff, mid-reach, eyes eternally open.
I’d never felt so cold in my life.
“Buddy?” Luxray asked, approaching him. His paw went to Machamp’s neck. I already knew what happened. Was lemon juice an antidote? No, that acted way too fast. Goodra had spent hundreds of seconds with it in his system. But Luxray would think differently…
He turned toward me again, blind fury in his eyes.
I blasted the fallen potions with an ember. It was a gamble. It paid off.
Something—some combination of those potions—reacted and created a bright green smoke that left Luxray in a horrible coughing fit. I fled through the back entrance and sprinted home, envisioning ways that I could leave with my family and never show my face in the Southern Kingdom again. In too deep. Everything went wrong in just one afternoon.
I’d find a quieter home further from the kingdom. Maybe I’d move near Void Basin. Nobody liked it there but it’d be safer than here. Maybe I’d—
I made a wrong turn. Where was I?
I turned around. Something was wrong here. The forest was different. How long had I been running? Curse these Salazzle instincts, I was meant for underground navigation, not a forest! It all looked the same!
By the time my lungs started to burn, I saw a ripple in the distance like a rippling pond set vertically. That’s when my dread redoubled.
That was a distortion. I’d entered a Dungeon without realizing it. This direction felt safe, why had I fallen for that?! Did it somehow draw me in? There were stories of wraiths tricking people to enter their borders. I never thought that it would be so insidious…
Now I had to find a way through without…
CRACK!
I was suddenly on the ground, paralyzed, with stinging pain running up and down my limbs. Something burned. Thunder. I’d been hit by Thunder.
“If you think,” Luxray said, voice shaking with rage, “you’ll get away alive for that stunt… think again. Maybe I’ll do it slowly. Make sure you know you’re gonna die, traitor. Did you think I’d be afraid if you went into a Dungeon?”
I tried to speak but no words came. I couldn’t move at all. The numbness was setting in.
Fleeting thoughts of Whystle and my kids drifted through my mind. Tears filled my vision, fear and desperation fueling my convulsions to get just a few inches further away. Something dark was creeping toward us from the corner of my vision.
Luxray’s powerful paw pressed into my thigh. Claws dug through my scales effortlessly. The pain was dull. The paralysis didn’t settle in completely.
A cruel smirk showed his fangs. “Maybe you’ll see my buddy soon so he can kill you all over again in the spirit world,” he said, running a claw along my thigh, splitting scales from the flesh.
“See that?” Luxray asked, pressing his bloodied paw in my face. “That’s yours. Want to see more?”
He laughed lowly. The paralysis was wearing off but the pain took its place. Oh, gods, what did he do to my leg?
The Luxray’s paw rose for a decisive swipe. I squeezed my eyes shut, awaiting the worst.
And waited.
And waited…
Luxray gurgled out a scream. When I dared to open my eyes, he was struggling against a strange, dark thing that had embedded itself into his chest and out through his back. A horrible head and mouth emerged on his back and clamped onto the back of his neck, clearing the fur and skin all at once.
Its head jerked left and right. I heard a pop! and a crack! and Luxray’s limbs stopped entirely. He folded onto the ground, head tilted to face me. He was still blinking. The wraith crawled out of his back as crimson spread over the dirt. His eyes darted toward it. He tried to scream, to bite, to snarl, but the wraith went over his eyes. His head twitched a few times. I heard… crunching… oh, gods, the crunching.
Luxray stopped moving.
I couldn’t see his face. The wraith, shapeless except for two yellow eyes and something that vaguely looked like limbs, stared at me next. Crawled toward me. The pain was so much.
This was worse. I was going to die to a wraith. What… what then?
I closed my eyes again and waited for the end. Maybe if I was blind it’d be faster. Or… I could fight. I could swing one last time. I balled up my fists—I could move again—and swung forward. Clumsy. But I had to fight. I had a family. I had two daughters. Or… one. No, two. I couldn’t think.
I struck the wraith. My fist sank into its amorphous, sticky form… didn’t do anything. It kept advancing.
That’s when I realized it wasn’t alone. More wraiths were coming closer, waiting to feast. They were all at the edges of the Dungeon’s chamber.
The wraith that killed Luxray was now crawling over me, resting atop my ribs. It reminded me of the horrible dreams of my daughter screaming and my helpless form in the dirt.
Then, the wraith made a strange, deep hissing noise. The other wraiths halted their advance. The one on me hissed again, firing little embers at them.
One by one, the wraiths returned to the shadows.
Everything was getting dark. How open was my wound? Did the wraith simply want me all for itself?
It’ll be okay, I thought I heard from a voice that was warped yet familiar.
Something purple lumbered into the room next. It smelled like that strange Goodra from earlier and his sickly sweet aroma.
“Oh,” he said as his walking picked up. “You’re. . .”
I was fading in and out of consciousness. What was he saying? I couldn’t see anything. I heard the wraith hissing. Then the Goodra said something placatingly.
I knew nothing of what happened after.
<><><>
“. . . dinner?”
“I’m trying, I just don’t… I’m not good with the fire like your mother is, Sugar…”
“I can show you!”
“Yeah, Spice can!”
“Aww, you’re too young to start cooking!”
That last voice I recognized, but he wasn’t family.
Everything hurt. No, not everything. Mostly my leg.
Leg?
I jolted in my nest, soft and familiar. My tail spasmed enough that the others must have noticed.
“Anise?” Whystle asked.
I took a breath. I was afraid to speak. My fight or flight still left me too anxious to make a sound.
“Anise, are you awake? You’re home. It’s okay, you’re home.”
Home. Okay? Then that wasn’t a dream. “I’m fine,” I said.
“Thank goodness…”
The Goodra peered into my room—he was the new voice. “See, I told you!” he said cheerily. “Northern blessings are pretty strong, huh?”
“Er, right.” Whystle sat next to me and gently placed a hand on my shoulder. The familiar touch relaxed me enough to breathe evenly.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Spice saw you running into a Dungeon and away from a Luxray,” Whystle said. “She let us know. We were about to set up a rescue party, but then Goodra here—his name is Anam—he managed to rescue you while passing through.”
“Was… Luxray your friend?” Anam asked nervously, poking his grabbers together.
“…No. He…” I glanced at my kids. “No. He wasn’t. He wasn’t a good Pokémon.”
Something wasn’t adding up. This felt too real to be a dream. But I should have died.
“Oh. Okay.” Anam nodded. “Um. Well… he’s…” He also glanced at the kids. “Not around to bother you anymore.”
Then he did die. What a horrible fate.
“But don’t worry,” Anam said. “I saved him!”
I was too tired to ask what that meant. Instead, I nodded and said, “Thank you… I… don’t know what happened. There were… wraiths, and…”
Spice shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze.
Spice…
Time froze.
The events ran through my head with more clarity. Lured into the Dungeon; it felt like I’d been going home. But what if I’d been approaching Spice?
Spice, who was in the Dungeon… as… as…
And I realized… so many things. So many little things. The knowing looks, that terrified stare Spice had. And this Goodra… What about him was so special? Why did Spice fear him? What did he know?
“Anam,” I said. I didn’t want to ask it but I had to. I had to seize the opportunity. “How was my daughter, Spice? Was she safe? Did nobody harm her when she saw me?”
Whystle frowned at that. “She came straight home when she saw you running.”
I didn’t buy that. Only Spice was around. And she…
“Your daughter,” Anam said, “was super duper brave! And smart! She went right home, yep, and was right there with Papa and Sister when I brought you back.”
Spice flinched, behind all the others. Only I saw the reaction. That was a lie. Spice knew it was a lie. But Anam seemed to know it was a lie. When I looked into his eyes, there was a faint hint… that I should play along.
“…That… I…” I rubbed my head, closing my eyes. “Good. I’m glad,” I said. “I’m glad Spice is so resourceful. But…” I frowned, staring pointedly at her. “You should… not wander too far! If Luxray found you instead…”
“Sorry…” Spice bowed her head. The little Salandit pawed on the ground, stealing a few glances at Anam. But that fear in her eyes had faded.
“She didn’t wander far,” Anam said. “She’s very good. You have a nice daughter! Um, two daughters!”
Spice was holding her breath. There was a strange… forcefulness in the way Anam spoke.
Two daughters…
I chuckled a little and rested against my nest. “Who are you, Anam?”
“Aw, I’m just traveling! Seeing other parts of the world. Oh, and taking care of wraiths and Dungeons. I try to make sure that they can’t bother people. It sure is a good thing wraiths can’t leave Dungeons! I have a sixth sense for them.”
“Oh, I see.” That was a lie, wasn’t it? Some of it… was. Or… wasn’t it? Ugh, this Goodra was so confusing. “Well, thank you for being where you were. Spice, thank Anam, too.”
“H-huh?” Spice flinched. She stared at the Goodra, who only smiled wider.
If Anam could sense wraiths, and he hunted them… and Spice was right there… Then whatever Spice was, she was different. Maybe she was a wraith. But someone like Anam made an exception.
And Spice saved my life.
“Oh. Um… thank you…” Spice poked the ground, looking guilty.
Anam beamed and leaned forward, holding out his hand far, far down. “It was nice to meet you, Spice. Keep being smart and brave, okay? And nice, too!”
“Okay.” She reluctantly took his hand and shook it. A string of slime connected them, which she wiped on the ground with a grimace.
“Anyway,” Anam said, “it smells like dinner’s ready! Do you need help standing?”
“No, I think I’ll be fine,” I said. “…Spice?”
She jolted up. “Huh?”
“Let’s go have dinner. Maybe you and Mister Anam can fill me in on what happened. My memory is a little foggy…”
“Oh, it is?” Spice asked. “Foggy how?”
Spice was also the one who had manipulated me before, hadn’t she? Manipulated the whole family to think she’d always been there. It was all her.
Was that all she wanted? In her own, strange, wraith-like way, did she desperately want… family?
“I can’t seem to remember what happened in the Dungeon,” I explained. “I remember the Luxray attacking me… and then I saw someone purple?”
“Oh.” Spice relaxed. “It’s okay. Mister Anam just saved you.”
I nodded more easily. “I see. Well… thank you, Anam.”
I hobbled over to the dinner table. My leg ached, but the wound was gone. The bruised feeling will fade.
It occurred to me that Spice, if all these other things were true, could have… replaced Sugar. Killed her and took her place. It was a horrible, terrifying thought, but it was also what didn’t happen. Spice chose the harder route, convincing a whole family that they had two children instead of simply replacing the one.
In her twisted way… Spice was kind, too. That must have been what Anam was urging.
I would place my faith in his judgment. And I would place my faith in Spice’s protection.
Perhaps I never had that second egg. But… the second one deserved a part in the family anyway.
Just in case, I’d watch over her quietly. Support her. And try my best to understand.
In the end, it’s all a mother could do.
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