Author's Notes & Victim
New
Hey all! I'm here with a new oneshot. This oneshot is an exercise I wanted to do to finally get something to write after a longer drought (and sorta not wanting to write The Bringer too much right now since it's being a downer). It's a story that covers an existing scene from Hunter, Haunted from a new perspective - Joanna's - as well as a bunch of new never-before-seen material.
You do not need to have read any of Hunter, Haunted to read this. In fact, I'm very curious as to what someone who hasn't touched HH would think about this. So don't be shy about reading/reviewing if you're new to the HHverse!
Content warnings for this story are strong language and mentions of pedophilia and occult themes. While there are no other specific content warnings, the tone of the story is still heavy (mostly due to the end), so it is rated mature.
Enjoy!
Trees. Sunlight filtered through their evergreen branches. Rocks and moss and needles on the forest floor.
I sigh. Yeah. Right where I fell asleep, except it's no longer night. I prefer it that way. I may be a ghost now, but I'm still not a fan of the dark.
I bound up from the moss and begin to float. I look at my body. Still invisible save for my mask. Haven't figured out why or how to fix this, but maybe I'll find out with time. I then look around for any wild mon that might be there, but I can't see any. I can hear birdsong, though - pidgey and starly. Neither of those has caused me any trouble so far, though, so I'd wager I can enjoy some breakfast in peace.
I hover over to a fern and place my invisible hand on it. Drawing from its well of vitality, I absorb its life force. The fern browns and withers, and I feel a little less hungry. I repeat this for a few more ferns until I'm sated.
Okay. That's that taken care of. I guess I'll get back to wandering.
As I pick the direction opposite to where I remember coming from and float on, my mind is free to ruminate again.
So. I'm dead. There's several reasons why I know this. One: I woke up a few days ago as a ghost with no explicit memories yet with a fully developed mind. That means I can't have been a natural-born ghost, as I would be akin to an infant in that case. Two: the face on my mask looks like a real human's face and not a symbolic scribble of one. This also means I've come from a human. Three: I might not have any explicit memories, but I'm certain I used to have the body of a human, or at least a humanoid, because this new one has been disorientating as all hell.
Okay, dead, that's established. Why, though? How did I die? When I first awakened, I didn't see a corpse anywhere, so that gives me nothing to work with. I think the time and place ghosts spawn might be temporally and spatially displaced anyway. I don't know where I know that from, as I don't know where I know any of my ghost facts from, but it doesn't feel as certain as those other ones, so… I think it must have been a plot point in some movie or something.
Thinking about more ghost facts, there's the fact that folklore says ghosts are formed when someone dies while still having unfinished business. But there's also the fact that research doesn't seem to back that up. Dying from a jealous spouse's murder or peacefully in your old age doesn't appear to make a difference for your odds of reincarnation. Some people just get a second chance by the roll of the dice. I guess I should consider myself lucky.
Having spent the past few days floating around aimlessly and dodging other ghosts I think might try to prey on me, 'lucky' is not the word I'd use for myself.
What's my endgame here, even? I'm not gonna get any closer to figuring out who I was if I just stay in the woods. Leaving the woods and stepping into the streets, though, somehow feels even worse. I feel so… exposed there. And the thought of meeting a human, even if they might be able to help me… they might also try to hurt me. Humans are usually wary around ghosts, and some are openly hostile.
Gods. This sucks. Maybe I'll just shut my brain up and keep floating.
Before long, I see signs of civilization again. This time, a graveyard. How darkly comical. I guess I could at least spend some time there to see if any names seem familiar. I might be buried there for all I know.
I make my way to the edge of the forest and look around. No visitors right now. Feeling confident enough, I enter the graveyard from its back corner and take in the scene. Stone monuments of different shapes and sizes. Flowers set before some of them. Soft moss and short grass at the edges of the cobblestone paths. In the front, there's a fence to separate the yard from the street, and a gate in the middle. Seems like standard fare for a smaller population center in a smaller town.
I slip in front of my first grave. The names engraved on the monument seem familiar only in the way that a Tohjoan name is more familiar than a Kalosian. No luck here.
I check a few other graves. More names, still mostly Tohjoan, and some aphorisms here and there. Nothing that really makes me rethink my life. Or… death. Unlife.
I finish checking the rest of the graves. Nope, nothing jumped out at me. Little good this excursion did. Better keep moving, then.
As I float my way to the edge of the yard, my tail catches on a bush, rustling it. After freezing for a second, I dive behind it and hide. No one heard that, right? I didn't check if there was anyone on the street as I was leaving…
Wait… wait, this is dumb. No human is going to pursue a ghost for hanging out at a graveyard. That's just something ghosts do.
I upright myself and float deeper into the woods, though I can't really shake this anxiety over being spotted. I try to soothe it a little bit by slipping behind the trunk of a tall pine. Okay, that's better.
But, well, I gotta move again soon. Gotta keep trying to find something that'll give me answers without freaking me out so much.
When I've calmed down enough, I begin floating out. Yet I also start to question my plan. Should I really continue to just fuck around in the woods? Shouldn't I try to face my fears instead?
I grab my mask and begin to fidget. I don't like this. I feel like it's very much like me not to like this, too. I must have been someone who hated getting stuck on decisions. Nice that I've found that out now, but I would much rather have a name or --
A shuffling somewhere behind me. I turn around immediately. What was that?
I can't see anyone. I feel like that noise came from the bushes, though. Maybe the same one I rustled.
I want to float away and leave it at that, but that cowardice is really starting to piss me off. I gather my courage and start to hover towards --
"Hello?"
I flinch at the voice. It came from the opposite direction of the shuffling. I hide behind a tree. Wait. Was that a… child's voice, though?
"Hello?" the voice calls again. I peek out from behind the tree while making sure to still keep my mask concealed. I can spot someone beyond the trees in the distance. Someone short - well, she is a kid. She looks to have pink hair, a brown beanie and a brown jacket with a wool-lined hood.
She takes a few steps towards my direction, and I freeze, though I'm not sure why. This is just a kid, right?
“There’s no need to hide,” the girl calls, then approaches again. "I know you’re there behind that tree. Just come on out, I wanna help.”
Aw, fuck. How does she know? Is she, like… aura sensitive or something? Probably. Would explain why she's interested in ghosts.
I shift around, weighing my options, even if there's not much to weigh. It's just a kid, and I need help anyway. I just have this fucking… human-phobia holding me back.
Eventually, though, I manage to tear myself away from my hiding spot and float out into the open. The girl spots me and stops her approach. She's smiling, and her baby blue eyes are bright.
“Hi,” she says. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”
New? Yeah, pretty much. I'm not sure if I can talk, though, or if she'd understand, so I nod.
Oh, wait. She might not be able to see my head if my body's invisible. I decide to bob my mask instead as if it was my true face.
“Oh, you can turn yourself visible if you want," the girl says, then pauses. "Do you know how to do that?"
Uhh…
I shake the mask from side to side.
"Oh, well, it's like… you imagine your body turning to stone," the girl explains. "That's how the others say how it works, anyway."
Turning to stone. Okay. I'll give it a shot.
I close my eyes and focus on my body, willing it to be material or something, I don't know. To my shock, I do start to feel some kind of change. I see it through, then open my eyes again. What do you know, I'm visible.
The girl chuckles. "This is so cool. I've never met a yamask before."
She takes a step toward me, and on instinct, I jerk back. My body also becomes more translucent again. Oh, fuck, come on. Don't turn back now right after I managed to fix the visibility issue.
"No, no, it's okay," says the girl. "I couldn't hurt you even if I wanted to. I can't do any energy-based attacks."
I believe her in that, but… something tells me I should still be worried for my mask. It seems so important that I haven't even been able to let go of it once.
I want to express this somehow, but as I open my mouth and try to speak, all that comes out is…
"Maaaa…"
My voice sounds human, but not quite. I wonder if that's close at all to how I used to sound in my past life.
"Well, I guess that part I could damage… but I won't. I promise not to." The girl slips her hands into the pockets of her jacket and gives another encouraging smile.
I guess she understood what I meant somehow. Was it because I looked at my mask? Or does she have a way of deciphering my intent through some other means?
…Oh. It's probably aura. Ghosts use aura to communicate. I just didn't realize it would be so… easy.
Regardless, I guess I can trust this kid well enough. I float closer to her, weaving through some spruce branches in the way.
"So, what's your name?" she asks.
Well, isn't that the million dollar question. I feel like I should give recollection another try, though. I rack my brain for random names that might set off some spark, but none of them do.
"...It's okay, not everyone has one," the girl then says.
I guess not.
She reinforces her weakening smile. "My name's Michi," she says. "I'm friends with a lot of ghosts round these parts. They told me they'd seen someone new floating about, a yamask. That must be you."
Ghosts…? Could it be that the gastly I saw that acted kind of weird around me was one of those?
I try my best to ask about a gastly the only way I know how - by making my nonsense noises and hoping the message gets across. "Maa? Maa, maa…"
Michi grins. “Yeah, that must’ve been Gabby! She’s the one that told me about you. Sorry about her, she can be kind of prickly… but she’s a good girl once you get to know her.”
I hope so. I didn't like the way she looked at me. Or…
"M-maa…" I mumble, trying to say that I'm not sure if I want to meet all of her friends right away.
"Oh, no, you don't have to meet them all right away. Actually, they're used to leaving me alone with any new one for a while so I can make them feel more comfortable."
Uh, alright. I guess that's better.
Suddenly, Michi's eyes dart off to the side - in the direction where I came from. Did she see something? Sense something with her aura sense? Come to think of it, why haven't I been able to sense anything like that? Ghosts all have that sense, right?
Before I can ask about it, though, she turns back to me. "Say…" she starts, grasping her arms, "it's pretty cold and windy out here. There's an abandoned cabin nearby I like to hang out at. Do you wanna come?"
Creepy abandoned cabin? Awesome. Well, I better go with her anyway. She seems to know about ghosts and how to handle them, and I don't yet know how to handle myself.
I nod, this time with my real head instead of the mask.
"Alright, cool! This way," she says, gesturing me to come with as she turns around and begins leading me back the way she came.
We're silent for kind of a while. I wonder if I should start a conversation, but I'm not sure where to start. Eventually, though, she spares me the trouble.
"So," she begins, “what brought you to these woods? Where did you come from?”
"Aa, maa. Mah, maah, maah…" I say. 'I woke up here a few days ago with no memories and I've been wandering around since.'
"Ah, I see." She pauses. "Has it gone well for you?"
What a stupid question. But this kid is, like, twelve. "Mah, mah," I say - 'I've been managing.'
"Any wild mon been giving you trouble?"
'Well, I tried going into a den for shelter and a raticate chased me out. But I guess I was asking for that.'
"Did you get hurt?"
'Nah, got off with a scare.'
"Okay, good."
A pause.
"You know, I've had some run-ins with wild mon of my own," Michi starts. "Sorta happens when you spend this much time in the woods."
I eye her up and down - her clothing's a bit dirty, and the fingertips of her gloves have been worn away. That does make sense for someone outdoorsy… but it brings up a question that might be insensitive.
'Um, if you don't mind me asking…' I begin in my wails. 'Shouldn't you be at school?'
Michi huffs. "The adults say I should, sure," she says, "but I don't think I need to go. I have a bad time there, anyway."
'How come?'
Michi flinches. "Oh, sorry, I shouldn't get started on that. It's just that I… I'm an orphan, you see, and the other kids think that somehow makes me worse than them."
'Oh, sorry to hear.' I feel some kind of kinship. Was I bullied growing up, too? I feel like it wasn't for being an orphan, though.
"Yeah, but… that's Viridian business. We're in Pallet now."
'You come here all the way from Viridian?'
"Yeah," she says. "I mean, I used to live here, close to these woods. Made all my ghost friends here. My, uh, only friends."
'Oh.' This kid's not having the best life. 'But at least you have them, right?'
The girl smiles. "Yeah. I'm lucky to be aura-sensitive - lets me understand the ones that can't speak human language." Her smile falls off. "But, uh, it's been a bit harder coming here to see my friends now that I've been moved to the orphanage in Viridian. They said my old one had gotten too full."
'That sucks. I'm sorry to hear that.'
"Yeah," Michi says. “Anyway… I come back here a lot and stay at the cabin if the nights are warm enough. My friends would probably understand if I didn't come here anymore, but I couldn't leave them. They’re kinda like orphans in their own way… no parents, lonely and scared, people usually don't want much to do with them…”
'Wait, what?' That doesn't bode well for me…
“Oh, no, sorry, I mean… you're gonna be fine, that's what we're here for.”
'Uh-huh…'
Another brief silence reigns - but then I notice the branches becoming sparser up ahead. As we advance, we come upon a clearing with a run-down shack at the edge of it. You can tell it used to be red, but isn't doing a bang-up job of it anymore, with the paint peeling off and everything. At least the windows are intact.
"Okay, we're here," Michi says. She leads me through the clearing to the cabin and holds the creaky door open for me to float in. Since serial killers are never little girls and probably never target ghosts, I hover over the threshold.
It's a dump, alright, but I guess it works. The paint of the interior is a bit less deteriorated than outside. There's a brick hearth and a dusty cracked full-length mirror next to it. There's also a wooden table with benches on either side. An old unlit oil lamp stands on the table. There's a door leading to some other, probably quite small, room. Then there's a pile of blankets and mattresses in the corner, which is surely a fantastic place for mold to grow. This kid is going to get sooooo sick.
“Yeah, as I said, it’s not much,” says Michi, stretching. “Still, it’s cozy when you get used to it. Those blankets in the corner help.”
A question arises in my mind. 'Where did you get them from?'
“I -- well, places. People throw old stuff out. Even though it’s good. Like this cabin. Whoever lived in it left it long ago, but I still think it’s neat.”
If you say so…
“This mirror, too”, she continues, gesturing to the mirror. “Just because it’s cracked doesn’t mean it’s worthless. You can still see yourself just fine.”
I take a closer look at my reflection, focusing on the face on my mask that still remains so distant. 'I guess…'
“...Do you know her?”
I wish I did, but… 'Nah.'
“Oh... well, maybe with time.”
Let's hope so. The sooner I figure out who I am, the sooner I can form some sort of self outside just… 'ghost wandering the woods'.
“Anyway," Michi says, "I’m gonna go gather some firewood. I’m gonna be back soon, just stay here. And make yourself at home.”
Not wanting to burst her bubble by calling this place uninhabitable, I just nod, and she leaves, closing the door behind me. I listen to her steps fade away, then float to the edge of the table to have a seat. Or lie down on my back. Not much sitting to do when you have no legs but a massive tail.
Okay, so, I guess I have an ally of sorts now. I can tell she means well even if I don't seem to be able to sense her aura or any other aura. I should probably ask her about that if she's supposed to be a ghost enthusiast.
And, hey, as shitty as this shack is, it's shelter. Don't have to worry about wild mon too much with a closeable door and intact windows. Overall, this is an improvement over my previous situation even if it somehow doesn't feel like it. Maybe I was just a bitch in my previous life.
I spend some time just lying there, staring at the dilapidated ceiling, until I get bored and decide to snoop around the shack some more. There's not much to see - a gray backpack on the floor that probably belongs to Michi, an empty picture frame on top of the hearth, some fire irons which I guess could come in handy if I ever need to fight anyone off and then that door I noticed before leading into an utterly empty second room. Honestly, I could go for a walk -- hover, but I should be here when the kid gets back.
Eventually, she does.
"Okay, got the firewood," she says as she opens the door, a bundle of sticks in her hand. These aren't really the logs I was thinking of, but I have to remember that this is a child that probably hasn't even gone on the rag yet. It's not like I have to worry about freezing to death, either, being a ghost and all. I don't think I can even feel temperature, which makes it bizarre that Michi justified coming here with keeping me warm to begin with. She was probably just excited to show me this place. That in mind, I should be less of a sourpuss.
She brings the 'firewood' to the hearth and places them in after snapping a few in half so that they'll fit. "That'll make an okay fire tonight," she says. "I have some bark in my pockets to make it even better."
I nod, not really knowing what to say.
She then stares at the hearth a bit longer, stuck in thought. Okay?
She turns to me and opens her mouth, but it takes her a while to start speaking. "Say, did you sense anyone following us when we came here?"
Following? 'No,' I say, 'but I don't know if I can sense aura at all.' Someone was following us?
Michi's eyebrows rise. "Really? Huh." She brings a hand to her chin. "I know there are some ghosts that don't have that ability for some reason."
I frown. 'Like, permanently?'
She flinches. "Uh, yeah, but we can't know if that's the case with you. Maybe all of your ghostly instincts just haven't kicked in yet."
I blink, then shrug. 'Well, can't know what I'm missing if I've never had it.'
"Yeah… uh, I can hit the library and try to read about this," she offers. Her eyes light up. "You can come with, too!"
I think about all the people that are going to be there and shudder. 'Uh, no thanks.'
Michi deflates. "Right, I get it. You're probably skittish in that new body of yours. You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."
'Right. Thanks.' I pause until I remember how she started this conversation. 'So, wait, someone was following us?'
"Yeah, some creep. I don't know what he wanted. I found him again and scared him away with this, though." She reaches into her pocket and draws out a -- switchblade? This kid has a switchblade on her?
'Should you have something like that?' I ask.
She huffs. "Why not? I know how to use it."
'Where did you get it?'
"Found it on the ground once."
'That could have belonged to, like, someone in a gang.'
"Should've taken better care of their stuff," Michi says. "Besides, I found it like a year ago. No one's given me trouble since. And do they even have gangs in Pallet?"
I sigh. 'I guess not.' I give her another look. 'But, like, back to that creep. You know he could have been, like, a pedophile or something?'
"Nah, he didn't look like it."
'What did he look like, then?'
"He looked like, eighteen or something, with long black hair. Not like some old man."
Eighteen… it feels young to me, but not that young. A clue? Was I maybe in my twenties before I died? I mean, the face on my mask could match that age, though it's not hyperrealistically detailed. It could be leaving out some wrinkles for all I know. But regardless…
'Eighteen-year-olds can still be pedos,' I say. 'What exactly did he say to you when you confronted him?'
"Well…" Michi grasps her chin again. "At first, I asked him why he was following us, and he tried to lie that he was just passing by. I called him out on this, and then he said he was interested in you since yamask are rare and he was just curious. Then we had like a squabble about me being an orphan or something. Whatever, I won anyway. He saw my knife and ran like a pussy."
'Language,' I say, not thinking too much about it.
"Why's everyone got such a problem with me swearing?" Michi says, frowning. "Adults just wanna hog all the cool words to themselves."
'Alright, kid, just don't start saying slurs,' I say.
"Like what?"
'I'm not teaching you slurs.'
"Right, true," she says. "You're a ghost that can only communicate through aura. You're stuck with ghost language. You couldn't teach me human slurs if you tried."
Not my point, but what fucking ever.
"So, what do you want to do now?" Michi asks.
'Uh…' I scratch my arm. 'I don't know. It's not like I have anything I really could be doing right now.'
"Hmm." She pauses. "Wanna play cards? Do you know how?"
I shrug. 'Maybe? We can try.'
"Okay, cool!"
She shuffles to her backpack and digs out a container with a deck of playing cards. I guess we're doing this now.
I did know how to play cards, though just Go Fish. It was alright fun, at least, I suppose. Passed the time. I do have to wonder how much time I'm going to need to pass before I can move on to doing something actual, whatever it is. I guess I should go to the cops at some point when I'm not as terrified of people to see if they can pinpoint my face in some database and tell me who I am, if I have any family. They'd probably be glad to see me. Or maybe not. Not every family is loving.
Right now, though, as I've just told Michi that three games of Go Fish was enough for me, I begin to feel tired. This has happened before on prior days - I just get drained for no real reason. I don't know if it's because I'm not draining enough life or something, but I just don't feel like doing it more than I already do.
"Oh, that's maybe because you haven't drained from any animals," says Michi after I've communicated the previous thought to her. "Plants can keep you alive, but they won't make you strong like animals will. Wild mon here can be pretty feisty for a new ghost, though. You wanna drain from me?"
'What?' I grimace. 'No, I'm not gonna drain life from you.'
"It'll be fine," Michi says. "I'm full of energy, and I let my ghost friends feed from me sometimes when they're feeling low."
'Won't it, like, screw up your growth? Or shorten your lifespan?'
She frowns. "People really overblow how much a little ghost is gonna drain. And it doesn't shorten lifespans, that's just a myth. It's as harmless as, like, a mosquito bite to me."
'Yeah, well, I'm still not comfortable doing that,' I say, then yawn. 'I'll be fine. I just need… a little nap.'
"Well, suit yourself," Michi says. "I might as well get some writing done while you're catching z's."
'You write?' I ask.
"Well, a little bit," Michi says shyly. "It's nothing special. I'm only learning so far."
'Well, maybe after I wake up, you can tell me some more about it,' I say. I'm not really sure why I've said this. I would have expected not to care about some kid's writing. Maybe I was interested in writing myself in my past life?
"Sure thing!" she says, grinning. "I'll just stay here. Feel free to use those blankets and mattresses."
I grimace a bit, but after I float over, I remember I actually can't smell anything. And I've never heard of a ghost getting sick from mold, if there is mold here. Maybe it'll be fine.
I lie down on the pile of mattresses a bit like a meowth would, curling around my mask. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. Slowly, the sound of birdsong outside and Michi scribbling something calm me down, and I sink into slumber…
Something is in my mouth. Something I can't spit out.
I open my eyes, and I'm somewhere else. A dark room lit by nothing but candles and a fire beneath a bowl of bubbling water. There's someone sitting by the fire - a young man with long black hair and… no clothes.
I also have no clothes on. Instead, I'm… strapped to some kind of upright board with belts running over my arms and legs and neck and forehead. And the thing in my mouth is a gag.
Oh. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck!
In my realization, I seem to breathe louder, since the man notices me. He smiles as if this is what he's been waiting for. It shoots a shiver down my body.
He gets up, picking up -- a knife. Oh Gods. But he doesn't come my way. He steps past the fire to some kind of… makeshift altar, and uncovers a shape obscured by a piece of cloth. It appears to be a… fossil. Of the shell of an omanyte.
The man, though, looks at this rock as if it's meaningful. He sets down the cloth and returns to stand before the fire.
He opens his mouth and begins to speak to the fossil. I have no idea what he's saying. I've never heard a language that sounds like this before. His words, though, sound rehearsed. At one point, he gestures to me. Oh Gods. What is he going to do to me?
Suddenly, the man's voice changes. Becomes laboured, just like his breathing. His words slur, and the hand holding the knife then opens, dropping it to the tiled floor with a clatter. He quiets. What?
He gasps. He grasps his head. He totters.
Then his breathing ceases, and he's frozen in place.
Slowly, I see his chest expand again as he takes in a breath. What little I can see of his face relaxes. He takes his hands off his head, though the motion is oddly mechanical. He then looks at his hands. Extends his fingers, flexes them.
He turns to me, his eyes meeting mine. The gaze is empty. He approaches. No, no, no. I try to protest, I try to whine, but he doesn't react. He steps up to me and raises a hand, a tensed hand with fingers bent like claws, and --
He tears through me with a scalding pain.
I scream and I keep screaming, but my scream changes to a wail, and the room is not there, the room is not there but something else is, and it's the shack, the run-down shack, and I'm a yamask again.
"Hey, hey! It's okay!" Michi says, standing next to me. I stop screaming and draw in a breath, let it out, draw in another, let it out, I…
Michi wraps her arms around me. I freeze, scared of what she might do to me, until I realize she's just a girl who's been nothing but friendly to me.
"It's okay," she says. "It's okay. You're safe now."
Safe…
I stare at the shack around me. The brick hearth, the mirror, the mattress I'd fallen asleep on. I feel Michi's arms. There is no warmth, because I can't feel warmth, but there is a squeeze that tells me she isn't afraid to help me.
I feel tears well up in my eyes. I sob as they leak down, wetting Michi's sleeves before dissipating, because a yamask's tears aren't water but red and impermanent. I feel small. Incredibly small.
"It's okay," says Michi. "It's okay."
You do not need to have read any of Hunter, Haunted to read this. In fact, I'm very curious as to what someone who hasn't touched HH would think about this. So don't be shy about reading/reviewing if you're new to the HHverse!
Content warnings for this story are strong language and mentions of pedophilia and occult themes. While there are no other specific content warnings, the tone of the story is still heavy (mostly due to the end), so it is rated mature.
Enjoy!
---
VICTIM
Synopsis:
A newly-born yamask unable to recall her past life wanders the woods.
Genre:
Horror
Status:
Complete oneshot.
Length:
5 200~ words
---
I wake up with a start, opening my eyes.VICTIM
Synopsis:
A newly-born yamask unable to recall her past life wanders the woods.
Genre:
Horror
Status:
Complete oneshot.
Length:
5 200~ words
---
Trees. Sunlight filtered through their evergreen branches. Rocks and moss and needles on the forest floor.
I sigh. Yeah. Right where I fell asleep, except it's no longer night. I prefer it that way. I may be a ghost now, but I'm still not a fan of the dark.
I bound up from the moss and begin to float. I look at my body. Still invisible save for my mask. Haven't figured out why or how to fix this, but maybe I'll find out with time. I then look around for any wild mon that might be there, but I can't see any. I can hear birdsong, though - pidgey and starly. Neither of those has caused me any trouble so far, though, so I'd wager I can enjoy some breakfast in peace.
I hover over to a fern and place my invisible hand on it. Drawing from its well of vitality, I absorb its life force. The fern browns and withers, and I feel a little less hungry. I repeat this for a few more ferns until I'm sated.
Okay. That's that taken care of. I guess I'll get back to wandering.
As I pick the direction opposite to where I remember coming from and float on, my mind is free to ruminate again.
So. I'm dead. There's several reasons why I know this. One: I woke up a few days ago as a ghost with no explicit memories yet with a fully developed mind. That means I can't have been a natural-born ghost, as I would be akin to an infant in that case. Two: the face on my mask looks like a real human's face and not a symbolic scribble of one. This also means I've come from a human. Three: I might not have any explicit memories, but I'm certain I used to have the body of a human, or at least a humanoid, because this new one has been disorientating as all hell.
Okay, dead, that's established. Why, though? How did I die? When I first awakened, I didn't see a corpse anywhere, so that gives me nothing to work with. I think the time and place ghosts spawn might be temporally and spatially displaced anyway. I don't know where I know that from, as I don't know where I know any of my ghost facts from, but it doesn't feel as certain as those other ones, so… I think it must have been a plot point in some movie or something.
Thinking about more ghost facts, there's the fact that folklore says ghosts are formed when someone dies while still having unfinished business. But there's also the fact that research doesn't seem to back that up. Dying from a jealous spouse's murder or peacefully in your old age doesn't appear to make a difference for your odds of reincarnation. Some people just get a second chance by the roll of the dice. I guess I should consider myself lucky.
Having spent the past few days floating around aimlessly and dodging other ghosts I think might try to prey on me, 'lucky' is not the word I'd use for myself.
What's my endgame here, even? I'm not gonna get any closer to figuring out who I was if I just stay in the woods. Leaving the woods and stepping into the streets, though, somehow feels even worse. I feel so… exposed there. And the thought of meeting a human, even if they might be able to help me… they might also try to hurt me. Humans are usually wary around ghosts, and some are openly hostile.
Gods. This sucks. Maybe I'll just shut my brain up and keep floating.
Before long, I see signs of civilization again. This time, a graveyard. How darkly comical. I guess I could at least spend some time there to see if any names seem familiar. I might be buried there for all I know.
I make my way to the edge of the forest and look around. No visitors right now. Feeling confident enough, I enter the graveyard from its back corner and take in the scene. Stone monuments of different shapes and sizes. Flowers set before some of them. Soft moss and short grass at the edges of the cobblestone paths. In the front, there's a fence to separate the yard from the street, and a gate in the middle. Seems like standard fare for a smaller population center in a smaller town.
I slip in front of my first grave. The names engraved on the monument seem familiar only in the way that a Tohjoan name is more familiar than a Kalosian. No luck here.
I check a few other graves. More names, still mostly Tohjoan, and some aphorisms here and there. Nothing that really makes me rethink my life. Or… death. Unlife.
I finish checking the rest of the graves. Nope, nothing jumped out at me. Little good this excursion did. Better keep moving, then.
As I float my way to the edge of the yard, my tail catches on a bush, rustling it. After freezing for a second, I dive behind it and hide. No one heard that, right? I didn't check if there was anyone on the street as I was leaving…
Wait… wait, this is dumb. No human is going to pursue a ghost for hanging out at a graveyard. That's just something ghosts do.
I upright myself and float deeper into the woods, though I can't really shake this anxiety over being spotted. I try to soothe it a little bit by slipping behind the trunk of a tall pine. Okay, that's better.
But, well, I gotta move again soon. Gotta keep trying to find something that'll give me answers without freaking me out so much.
When I've calmed down enough, I begin floating out. Yet I also start to question my plan. Should I really continue to just fuck around in the woods? Shouldn't I try to face my fears instead?
I grab my mask and begin to fidget. I don't like this. I feel like it's very much like me not to like this, too. I must have been someone who hated getting stuck on decisions. Nice that I've found that out now, but I would much rather have a name or --
A shuffling somewhere behind me. I turn around immediately. What was that?
I can't see anyone. I feel like that noise came from the bushes, though. Maybe the same one I rustled.
I want to float away and leave it at that, but that cowardice is really starting to piss me off. I gather my courage and start to hover towards --
"Hello?"
I flinch at the voice. It came from the opposite direction of the shuffling. I hide behind a tree. Wait. Was that a… child's voice, though?
"Hello?" the voice calls again. I peek out from behind the tree while making sure to still keep my mask concealed. I can spot someone beyond the trees in the distance. Someone short - well, she is a kid. She looks to have pink hair, a brown beanie and a brown jacket with a wool-lined hood.
She takes a few steps towards my direction, and I freeze, though I'm not sure why. This is just a kid, right?
“There’s no need to hide,” the girl calls, then approaches again. "I know you’re there behind that tree. Just come on out, I wanna help.”
Aw, fuck. How does she know? Is she, like… aura sensitive or something? Probably. Would explain why she's interested in ghosts.
I shift around, weighing my options, even if there's not much to weigh. It's just a kid, and I need help anyway. I just have this fucking… human-phobia holding me back.
Eventually, though, I manage to tear myself away from my hiding spot and float out into the open. The girl spots me and stops her approach. She's smiling, and her baby blue eyes are bright.
“Hi,” she says. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”
New? Yeah, pretty much. I'm not sure if I can talk, though, or if she'd understand, so I nod.
Oh, wait. She might not be able to see my head if my body's invisible. I decide to bob my mask instead as if it was my true face.
“Oh, you can turn yourself visible if you want," the girl says, then pauses. "Do you know how to do that?"
Uhh…
I shake the mask from side to side.
"Oh, well, it's like… you imagine your body turning to stone," the girl explains. "That's how the others say how it works, anyway."
Turning to stone. Okay. I'll give it a shot.
I close my eyes and focus on my body, willing it to be material or something, I don't know. To my shock, I do start to feel some kind of change. I see it through, then open my eyes again. What do you know, I'm visible.
The girl chuckles. "This is so cool. I've never met a yamask before."
She takes a step toward me, and on instinct, I jerk back. My body also becomes more translucent again. Oh, fuck, come on. Don't turn back now right after I managed to fix the visibility issue.
"No, no, it's okay," says the girl. "I couldn't hurt you even if I wanted to. I can't do any energy-based attacks."
I believe her in that, but… something tells me I should still be worried for my mask. It seems so important that I haven't even been able to let go of it once.
I want to express this somehow, but as I open my mouth and try to speak, all that comes out is…
"Maaaa…"
My voice sounds human, but not quite. I wonder if that's close at all to how I used to sound in my past life.
"Well, I guess that part I could damage… but I won't. I promise not to." The girl slips her hands into the pockets of her jacket and gives another encouraging smile.
I guess she understood what I meant somehow. Was it because I looked at my mask? Or does she have a way of deciphering my intent through some other means?
…Oh. It's probably aura. Ghosts use aura to communicate. I just didn't realize it would be so… easy.
Regardless, I guess I can trust this kid well enough. I float closer to her, weaving through some spruce branches in the way.
"So, what's your name?" she asks.
Well, isn't that the million dollar question. I feel like I should give recollection another try, though. I rack my brain for random names that might set off some spark, but none of them do.
"...It's okay, not everyone has one," the girl then says.
I guess not.
She reinforces her weakening smile. "My name's Michi," she says. "I'm friends with a lot of ghosts round these parts. They told me they'd seen someone new floating about, a yamask. That must be you."
Ghosts…? Could it be that the gastly I saw that acted kind of weird around me was one of those?
I try my best to ask about a gastly the only way I know how - by making my nonsense noises and hoping the message gets across. "Maa? Maa, maa…"
Michi grins. “Yeah, that must’ve been Gabby! She’s the one that told me about you. Sorry about her, she can be kind of prickly… but she’s a good girl once you get to know her.”
I hope so. I didn't like the way she looked at me. Or…
"M-maa…" I mumble, trying to say that I'm not sure if I want to meet all of her friends right away.
"Oh, no, you don't have to meet them all right away. Actually, they're used to leaving me alone with any new one for a while so I can make them feel more comfortable."
Uh, alright. I guess that's better.
Suddenly, Michi's eyes dart off to the side - in the direction where I came from. Did she see something? Sense something with her aura sense? Come to think of it, why haven't I been able to sense anything like that? Ghosts all have that sense, right?
Before I can ask about it, though, she turns back to me. "Say…" she starts, grasping her arms, "it's pretty cold and windy out here. There's an abandoned cabin nearby I like to hang out at. Do you wanna come?"
Creepy abandoned cabin? Awesome. Well, I better go with her anyway. She seems to know about ghosts and how to handle them, and I don't yet know how to handle myself.
I nod, this time with my real head instead of the mask.
"Alright, cool! This way," she says, gesturing me to come with as she turns around and begins leading me back the way she came.
We're silent for kind of a while. I wonder if I should start a conversation, but I'm not sure where to start. Eventually, though, she spares me the trouble.
"So," she begins, “what brought you to these woods? Where did you come from?”
"Aa, maa. Mah, maah, maah…" I say. 'I woke up here a few days ago with no memories and I've been wandering around since.'
"Ah, I see." She pauses. "Has it gone well for you?"
What a stupid question. But this kid is, like, twelve. "Mah, mah," I say - 'I've been managing.'
"Any wild mon been giving you trouble?"
'Well, I tried going into a den for shelter and a raticate chased me out. But I guess I was asking for that.'
"Did you get hurt?"
'Nah, got off with a scare.'
"Okay, good."
A pause.
"You know, I've had some run-ins with wild mon of my own," Michi starts. "Sorta happens when you spend this much time in the woods."
I eye her up and down - her clothing's a bit dirty, and the fingertips of her gloves have been worn away. That does make sense for someone outdoorsy… but it brings up a question that might be insensitive.
'Um, if you don't mind me asking…' I begin in my wails. 'Shouldn't you be at school?'
Michi huffs. "The adults say I should, sure," she says, "but I don't think I need to go. I have a bad time there, anyway."
'How come?'
Michi flinches. "Oh, sorry, I shouldn't get started on that. It's just that I… I'm an orphan, you see, and the other kids think that somehow makes me worse than them."
'Oh, sorry to hear.' I feel some kind of kinship. Was I bullied growing up, too? I feel like it wasn't for being an orphan, though.
"Yeah, but… that's Viridian business. We're in Pallet now."
'You come here all the way from Viridian?'
"Yeah," she says. "I mean, I used to live here, close to these woods. Made all my ghost friends here. My, uh, only friends."
'Oh.' This kid's not having the best life. 'But at least you have them, right?'
The girl smiles. "Yeah. I'm lucky to be aura-sensitive - lets me understand the ones that can't speak human language." Her smile falls off. "But, uh, it's been a bit harder coming here to see my friends now that I've been moved to the orphanage in Viridian. They said my old one had gotten too full."
'That sucks. I'm sorry to hear that.'
"Yeah," Michi says. “Anyway… I come back here a lot and stay at the cabin if the nights are warm enough. My friends would probably understand if I didn't come here anymore, but I couldn't leave them. They’re kinda like orphans in their own way… no parents, lonely and scared, people usually don't want much to do with them…”
'Wait, what?' That doesn't bode well for me…
“Oh, no, sorry, I mean… you're gonna be fine, that's what we're here for.”
'Uh-huh…'
Another brief silence reigns - but then I notice the branches becoming sparser up ahead. As we advance, we come upon a clearing with a run-down shack at the edge of it. You can tell it used to be red, but isn't doing a bang-up job of it anymore, with the paint peeling off and everything. At least the windows are intact.
"Okay, we're here," Michi says. She leads me through the clearing to the cabin and holds the creaky door open for me to float in. Since serial killers are never little girls and probably never target ghosts, I hover over the threshold.
It's a dump, alright, but I guess it works. The paint of the interior is a bit less deteriorated than outside. There's a brick hearth and a dusty cracked full-length mirror next to it. There's also a wooden table with benches on either side. An old unlit oil lamp stands on the table. There's a door leading to some other, probably quite small, room. Then there's a pile of blankets and mattresses in the corner, which is surely a fantastic place for mold to grow. This kid is going to get sooooo sick.
“Yeah, as I said, it’s not much,” says Michi, stretching. “Still, it’s cozy when you get used to it. Those blankets in the corner help.”
A question arises in my mind. 'Where did you get them from?'
“I -- well, places. People throw old stuff out. Even though it’s good. Like this cabin. Whoever lived in it left it long ago, but I still think it’s neat.”
If you say so…
“This mirror, too”, she continues, gesturing to the mirror. “Just because it’s cracked doesn’t mean it’s worthless. You can still see yourself just fine.”
I take a closer look at my reflection, focusing on the face on my mask that still remains so distant. 'I guess…'
“...Do you know her?”
I wish I did, but… 'Nah.'
“Oh... well, maybe with time.”
Let's hope so. The sooner I figure out who I am, the sooner I can form some sort of self outside just… 'ghost wandering the woods'.
“Anyway," Michi says, "I’m gonna go gather some firewood. I’m gonna be back soon, just stay here. And make yourself at home.”
Not wanting to burst her bubble by calling this place uninhabitable, I just nod, and she leaves, closing the door behind me. I listen to her steps fade away, then float to the edge of the table to have a seat. Or lie down on my back. Not much sitting to do when you have no legs but a massive tail.
Okay, so, I guess I have an ally of sorts now. I can tell she means well even if I don't seem to be able to sense her aura or any other aura. I should probably ask her about that if she's supposed to be a ghost enthusiast.
And, hey, as shitty as this shack is, it's shelter. Don't have to worry about wild mon too much with a closeable door and intact windows. Overall, this is an improvement over my previous situation even if it somehow doesn't feel like it. Maybe I was just a bitch in my previous life.
I spend some time just lying there, staring at the dilapidated ceiling, until I get bored and decide to snoop around the shack some more. There's not much to see - a gray backpack on the floor that probably belongs to Michi, an empty picture frame on top of the hearth, some fire irons which I guess could come in handy if I ever need to fight anyone off and then that door I noticed before leading into an utterly empty second room. Honestly, I could go for a walk -- hover, but I should be here when the kid gets back.
Eventually, she does.
"Okay, got the firewood," she says as she opens the door, a bundle of sticks in her hand. These aren't really the logs I was thinking of, but I have to remember that this is a child that probably hasn't even gone on the rag yet. It's not like I have to worry about freezing to death, either, being a ghost and all. I don't think I can even feel temperature, which makes it bizarre that Michi justified coming here with keeping me warm to begin with. She was probably just excited to show me this place. That in mind, I should be less of a sourpuss.
She brings the 'firewood' to the hearth and places them in after snapping a few in half so that they'll fit. "That'll make an okay fire tonight," she says. "I have some bark in my pockets to make it even better."
I nod, not really knowing what to say.
She then stares at the hearth a bit longer, stuck in thought. Okay?
She turns to me and opens her mouth, but it takes her a while to start speaking. "Say, did you sense anyone following us when we came here?"
Following? 'No,' I say, 'but I don't know if I can sense aura at all.' Someone was following us?
Michi's eyebrows rise. "Really? Huh." She brings a hand to her chin. "I know there are some ghosts that don't have that ability for some reason."
I frown. 'Like, permanently?'
She flinches. "Uh, yeah, but we can't know if that's the case with you. Maybe all of your ghostly instincts just haven't kicked in yet."
I blink, then shrug. 'Well, can't know what I'm missing if I've never had it.'
"Yeah… uh, I can hit the library and try to read about this," she offers. Her eyes light up. "You can come with, too!"
I think about all the people that are going to be there and shudder. 'Uh, no thanks.'
Michi deflates. "Right, I get it. You're probably skittish in that new body of yours. You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."
'Right. Thanks.' I pause until I remember how she started this conversation. 'So, wait, someone was following us?'
"Yeah, some creep. I don't know what he wanted. I found him again and scared him away with this, though." She reaches into her pocket and draws out a -- switchblade? This kid has a switchblade on her?
'Should you have something like that?' I ask.
She huffs. "Why not? I know how to use it."
'Where did you get it?'
"Found it on the ground once."
'That could have belonged to, like, someone in a gang.'
"Should've taken better care of their stuff," Michi says. "Besides, I found it like a year ago. No one's given me trouble since. And do they even have gangs in Pallet?"
I sigh. 'I guess not.' I give her another look. 'But, like, back to that creep. You know he could have been, like, a pedophile or something?'
"Nah, he didn't look like it."
'What did he look like, then?'
"He looked like, eighteen or something, with long black hair. Not like some old man."
Eighteen… it feels young to me, but not that young. A clue? Was I maybe in my twenties before I died? I mean, the face on my mask could match that age, though it's not hyperrealistically detailed. It could be leaving out some wrinkles for all I know. But regardless…
'Eighteen-year-olds can still be pedos,' I say. 'What exactly did he say to you when you confronted him?'
"Well…" Michi grasps her chin again. "At first, I asked him why he was following us, and he tried to lie that he was just passing by. I called him out on this, and then he said he was interested in you since yamask are rare and he was just curious. Then we had like a squabble about me being an orphan or something. Whatever, I won anyway. He saw my knife and ran like a pussy."
'Language,' I say, not thinking too much about it.
"Why's everyone got such a problem with me swearing?" Michi says, frowning. "Adults just wanna hog all the cool words to themselves."
'Alright, kid, just don't start saying slurs,' I say.
"Like what?"
'I'm not teaching you slurs.'
"Right, true," she says. "You're a ghost that can only communicate through aura. You're stuck with ghost language. You couldn't teach me human slurs if you tried."
Not my point, but what fucking ever.
"So, what do you want to do now?" Michi asks.
'Uh…' I scratch my arm. 'I don't know. It's not like I have anything I really could be doing right now.'
"Hmm." She pauses. "Wanna play cards? Do you know how?"
I shrug. 'Maybe? We can try.'
"Okay, cool!"
She shuffles to her backpack and digs out a container with a deck of playing cards. I guess we're doing this now.
---
I did know how to play cards, though just Go Fish. It was alright fun, at least, I suppose. Passed the time. I do have to wonder how much time I'm going to need to pass before I can move on to doing something actual, whatever it is. I guess I should go to the cops at some point when I'm not as terrified of people to see if they can pinpoint my face in some database and tell me who I am, if I have any family. They'd probably be glad to see me. Or maybe not. Not every family is loving.
Right now, though, as I've just told Michi that three games of Go Fish was enough for me, I begin to feel tired. This has happened before on prior days - I just get drained for no real reason. I don't know if it's because I'm not draining enough life or something, but I just don't feel like doing it more than I already do.
"Oh, that's maybe because you haven't drained from any animals," says Michi after I've communicated the previous thought to her. "Plants can keep you alive, but they won't make you strong like animals will. Wild mon here can be pretty feisty for a new ghost, though. You wanna drain from me?"
'What?' I grimace. 'No, I'm not gonna drain life from you.'
"It'll be fine," Michi says. "I'm full of energy, and I let my ghost friends feed from me sometimes when they're feeling low."
'Won't it, like, screw up your growth? Or shorten your lifespan?'
She frowns. "People really overblow how much a little ghost is gonna drain. And it doesn't shorten lifespans, that's just a myth. It's as harmless as, like, a mosquito bite to me."
'Yeah, well, I'm still not comfortable doing that,' I say, then yawn. 'I'll be fine. I just need… a little nap.'
"Well, suit yourself," Michi says. "I might as well get some writing done while you're catching z's."
'You write?' I ask.
"Well, a little bit," Michi says shyly. "It's nothing special. I'm only learning so far."
'Well, maybe after I wake up, you can tell me some more about it,' I say. I'm not really sure why I've said this. I would have expected not to care about some kid's writing. Maybe I was interested in writing myself in my past life?
"Sure thing!" she says, grinning. "I'll just stay here. Feel free to use those blankets and mattresses."
I grimace a bit, but after I float over, I remember I actually can't smell anything. And I've never heard of a ghost getting sick from mold, if there is mold here. Maybe it'll be fine.
I lie down on the pile of mattresses a bit like a meowth would, curling around my mask. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. Slowly, the sound of birdsong outside and Michi scribbling something calm me down, and I sink into slumber…
---
Something is in my mouth. Something I can't spit out.
I open my eyes, and I'm somewhere else. A dark room lit by nothing but candles and a fire beneath a bowl of bubbling water. There's someone sitting by the fire - a young man with long black hair and… no clothes.
I also have no clothes on. Instead, I'm… strapped to some kind of upright board with belts running over my arms and legs and neck and forehead. And the thing in my mouth is a gag.
Oh. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck!
In my realization, I seem to breathe louder, since the man notices me. He smiles as if this is what he's been waiting for. It shoots a shiver down my body.
He gets up, picking up -- a knife. Oh Gods. But he doesn't come my way. He steps past the fire to some kind of… makeshift altar, and uncovers a shape obscured by a piece of cloth. It appears to be a… fossil. Of the shell of an omanyte.
The man, though, looks at this rock as if it's meaningful. He sets down the cloth and returns to stand before the fire.
He opens his mouth and begins to speak to the fossil. I have no idea what he's saying. I've never heard a language that sounds like this before. His words, though, sound rehearsed. At one point, he gestures to me. Oh Gods. What is he going to do to me?
Suddenly, the man's voice changes. Becomes laboured, just like his breathing. His words slur, and the hand holding the knife then opens, dropping it to the tiled floor with a clatter. He quiets. What?
He gasps. He grasps his head. He totters.
Then his breathing ceases, and he's frozen in place.
Slowly, I see his chest expand again as he takes in a breath. What little I can see of his face relaxes. He takes his hands off his head, though the motion is oddly mechanical. He then looks at his hands. Extends his fingers, flexes them.
He turns to me, his eyes meeting mine. The gaze is empty. He approaches. No, no, no. I try to protest, I try to whine, but he doesn't react. He steps up to me and raises a hand, a tensed hand with fingers bent like claws, and --
He tears through me with a scalding pain.
I scream and I keep screaming, but my scream changes to a wail, and the room is not there, the room is not there but something else is, and it's the shack, the run-down shack, and I'm a yamask again.
"Hey, hey! It's okay!" Michi says, standing next to me. I stop screaming and draw in a breath, let it out, draw in another, let it out, I…
Michi wraps her arms around me. I freeze, scared of what she might do to me, until I realize she's just a girl who's been nothing but friendly to me.
"It's okay," she says. "It's okay. You're safe now."
Safe…
I stare at the shack around me. The brick hearth, the mirror, the mattress I'd fallen asleep on. I feel Michi's arms. There is no warmth, because I can't feel warmth, but there is a squeeze that tells me she isn't afraid to help me.
I feel tears well up in my eyes. I sob as they leak down, wetting Michi's sleeves before dissipating, because a yamask's tears aren't water but red and impermanent. I feel small. Incredibly small.
"It's okay," says Michi. "It's okay."
---
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