A/N: This was really fun to write and my first finished story in present tense. BEAR WITH ME. Btw, you shouldn't read this if you're easily disturbed. I'm pretty sure I made it super freaky. :>
Pokemon Captured: Baltoy
Needed Characters: 10k
Actual Characters: 10138
"It is a very mixed blessing to be brought back from the dead."
“Awake.” The voice is commanding, and my eyes flicker open. I feel heavy. My limbs are stiff and at first I cannot move them. The weight of the earth pressing down on me is comfortable, reminds me of being covered by a blanket and wanting to stay in bed. Yet something forces me to stir, to move my arms and legs that refuse to bend, and I reach one hand upward. It claws out of the dirt and I can feel the cold of the night air. Slowly, I sit up, rising out of my shallow grave. I am bathed in moonlight; looking at the sky, I see the moon is full. To me it is as bright as day. I turn my head and my neck cracks loudly, disturbingly. To my left is where the force is coming from. There is a figure in a black cloak that covers them completely. I cannot make out the form inside, but I smell warm flesh, can hear the blood gurgling through their veins. A tongue half eaten by worms slips out of my mouth and licks my lips. In front of the figure is a smaller shape, a little bigger than my head. It is brown with red markings, but that is not important. What is important is that I feel the awful power coming from it, the power that forces me from my sleep.
“Come,” says the voice, and against my will, I rise to my feet and take a step towards it. I look down at my feet, which are sinking into the cool, dark ground, and see that much of the flesh has rotted away. I feel cold air in my middle, and a clammy hand rises to my chest. There is a hole there, in the middle of the ragged shirt I am wearing. Dried blood covers it. I look back up and resume walking to the figure, my master. Standing in front of it, I can see the lower half of their face under the hood they are wearing. I see a smile, teeth shining in the darkness. “Brother… “ the figure whispers, the voice as light as a breeze whistling between branches and my mind settles on it, trying to remember where I heard it last. “Brother,” the figure says again, “I need you.” My mind slips on a memory of a girl smaller than me, with soft black hair and green eyes. She is clinging to me and we are in the rain. I growl. Sister.
Slowly my lips form words, “I. Am. Here.” Her grin widens and she flips the cloak back so that I can see her face. She looks like what I remember, but her face has more angles, is harder and I frown. She jumps forward, embracing me, and I almost fall over. This close, I can almost taste her skin. I look at her from empty eye sockets, and she seems to understand. She takes a step back.
“He’s hurting me again,” she tells me, and I try to remember what that means. I remember an empty house, crying, mother is gone, no food, man upstairs, and awful noises. I hear screaming. I hear screaming and he is hurting her and when he is done, my sister is different, curled up in the corner, her arms and legs held tightly to her. There is blood on her dress and I go to her, sitting before her like a guard dog. The man comes back and I yell at him, scream at him, and then he reaches for something and there is noise, then darkness. I make a sighing sound, as I suck in air uselessly and it escapes through the holes in my jaw.
“I. Can. Help.” It is difficult to speak. My mouth struggles to make the sounds recognizable. I see tears forming in her eyes, making them shine as brightly as her smile had.
“I know you can.” Despite my warnings, the urge to sink my teeth into her, she curls one hand around mine, not flinching when she touches bone. The hand is soft and warm against the night. She walks hand in hand with me, slowly so that I can stay with her. Her Pokemon floats behind us slowly. As we walk through the birch trees that surround our family graveyard, I can start to see the bruises on her face, the bags under her eyes, the way she clutches her cloak to her, trying to hide under it. I feel something moving in my belly. I don’t know if it’s anger or maggots, but as I slowly awaken, all I know is that I want to hurt him and that I will. We are walking uphill and occasionally I stumble on twigs and her hand tightens around mine as she keeps me upright. Finally, we reach the hill’s crest and I stare down at the town below, its lights illuminating the entire valley it lies in. Our home is farther away, in the shadow of a mountain. “Can you get down the mountain alright?” There is worry in her voice, and despite myself I smile. Why worry for the dead?
“Yes. I. Am. Fine,” I respond. As we start to walk down the hill, I realize I am constantly on the verge of tipping forward. A roll down this hill may snap me in half.
“Stop,” she says, the same commanding tone in her voice, though the worry has increased and she sounds on the verge of tears. She turns to her Pokemon. “Baltoy, can you pick him up and carry him down?” The Pokemon bows slightly, a gesture that I assume is meant to be a nod. Then I am swept off my feet, and find that I am floating a few inches above the ground. The sensation is strange, but I go limp and let myself be carried. I watch helplessly as my sister catches her feet in the vines a few times, but she never falls, though I would catch her if she did. Eventually, we reach the foot of the hill, and I am morbidly impressed that the man was able to drag my body up that hill, most likely under the cover of darkness.
“He. Is. Home?” I ask her. I don’t know why, but I know that others can’t see me. They cannot know what my sister has done to save herself.
She nods, biting her lip, and I know that she is beginning to have second thoughts, but it is too late. I am awake now. And I am hungry. I walk towards the house. It is much closer now, and she trails behind me, the tiny creature that he has broken. It makes me angrier and I begin to limp faster. My teeth are grinding into each other and I barely am aware of my sister and her Baltoy. At last I am standing at his door. I try to wrap my hand around it, but can’t. I feel her hand on my shoulder and she reaches forward and opens the door.
“Oh, good, you’re finally home, you lazy bitch!” yells a man’s voice and if I still had most of my esophagus, my throat would tighten. I walk through the doorway and I am confronted with my stepfather. He is fatter than I remember, his watery eyes have sunk back into his head. He is wearing loosely fitting clothes, and when he sees me, his mouth stops moving midsentence. There is fear in his eyes and I smile grimly. I will hurt him like he hurt her.
“Will?” he asks, and my name strikes a chord in the back of my head and I shudder. I growl at him. He cringes.
“I’m. Home.” He goes still at my words and then I make a sound halfway between a scream and a roar, and he jumps from his seat and runs to the back of the house. I follow slowly, but not before I tell my sister, “Stay. Hide.” I assume she will listen.
I hear his breathing before I see him. He is gasping and moaning, clawing at the window in his bedroom, though even if he could get it open, he’s too fat to get through. I take my time getting to the bedroom, letting his fear and horror grow. Then I am in front of him, and he is standing with his back against the wall, unable to escape. The same place my sister was when he first raped her. He whimpers and tries to plead, “Don’t hurt me.” I grin as I firmly grab his arm, before ripping it away from his shoulder. He screams and I bury my mouth in the wood, gnawing at the flesh and letting the blood run down what’s left of my throat. I burrow into him, tearing apart skin, muscles, tendons, snapping bones in half where I find them. For a while he claws at me, but at last he is too weak to do anything but lay there as I destroy him. My sister will not be blamed for this. She can say a wild Pokemon got in through the open window while he was sleeping. The wounds my teeth have left back her story. I watch him as his breathing grows fainter, before gouging out his eyes with my fingers. He uses the last of his strength to scream like a dying animal, and then he is gone, out of our lives. I exit the room, hoping someone else will clean up the mess for her.
I find her in the front room, rocking back and forth behind the couch, muttering to herself. “What have I done? What have I done? I killed him, I killed him, what have I done, I killed him.” Her Baltoy floats beside her motionlessly, appearing deep in thought.
“No,” I say loudly, and she jumps with surprise. She has gone into shock; she didn’t realize I was there. “I. Killed. Him.” She looks down and I grab her face gently, holding it in one bloody hand and force her to look at me. “I. Did. It. You. Tell. People. It. Was. Pokemon.” She nods and buries her head in her hands, crying. I sit beside her, half falling as I try to sit down, so unsteady on my feet. I cradle her in my arms, covered in the gore of the man who hurt her, who killed me. She sobs and I am gone, don’t know how much time has gone by, but I go far away in my head. She moves, eventually, and I spring back awake. She crawls out of my embrace and kisses me on the cheek. I feel warmth. I pick at the wound in my chest nervously. “I. Have. To. Go,” I tell her, wishing the words weren’t true.
“I know,” she says, and kisses me on the cheek again. The touch of lips on rotting flesh make me feel alive again, for only a moment.
“Take. Me. Back.”
She nods, a few tears streaming down her face. I wipe them away clumsily, and she helps me to my feet. We start the journey back to the graveyard. Her Baltoy has to help me up the steep hillside, and at one point she almost falls. I cry out, but she catches herself, and we continue upwards. When we reach the top, I can see that the sky is lightening to the east. I know we have to hurry, but I don’t know why. At last, I am back at my grave. I notice now that it is unmarked, and only a few feet deep. I stand by it for a moment, unsure how to end myself. My sister stands beside me for a moment, clutching my hand, then whispers, “I love you.”
“I. Love. You. Too.” She kisses my cheek again and I lay down in the grave. She cries as she begins to pile dirt on top of me. I sigh as I sink into the earth, feeling myself fall back asleep.
I hear the words, “Let him go now, Baltoy.” I felt-