Young Writers Society

Jasmine
What Feels Like Home

Dark, creepy, thundering and surrounded by nothing but abandoned buildings, tombstones and trees without leaves. While Jasmine wasn't exactly sure where they were, considering the storm had messed with cell reception worse than being in the middle of nowhere had, she did find the environment comforting. It was like when she'd travel around abandoned sites back home.

What didn't happen back home was trucks breaking down right in the middle of the abandoned area, causing them to be stranded where they probably shouldn't be.

The boys went out to be boys and try to figure out what was wrong with the car. Annie and Jasmine stayed inside, watching as the hood went up.

Annie squirmed in her seat. "D'you think they'll figure it out?"

"Nope."

Her eyes widened. "Why not?"

Jasmine gestured to the boys now talking loud enough to hear them over the rain. "Do you honestly believe any of them know anything about cars?"

There was a swear half muffled by the rain.

Jasmine put her hands back in her lap. "See what I mean?"

Annie pouted and might as well have whined. The noise was cut off by a soaking wet Miles opening the door. "No use. We'll have to find a place to stay the night."

Jasmine grabbed the umbrella she had pulled out of her suitcase when clouds became visible with one hand, and two pokeballs with the other. "Ariel and Murtle, go scout out a place for us to wait out the storm."

Annie slid out behind Jasmine, coat wrapped around herself and Lollipop. "Do you think they'll find something?"

Jasmine nodded. "Unlike those boys, they actually know what they're doing."

The boys glared at her. Jasmine smirked.

Miles
Somewhere East of Spooklich

Miles threw on his coat and wiped his face of the water and hair plastered to his scowl. The whole group was trudging forward, but the storm was getting worse, seemingly, with every step. Miles took a second to look up at the sky. Blacks and purples burned across the red twilight sky. If they didn't find shelter soon, they'd lose their vision entirely.

"I think I see a house up ahead," shouted Art.

"OH SWEET," shouted Mal in return, "LET'S JUST RUN ACROSS THE SCARY GRAVEYARD TO GET TO IT."

"Put it to a vote," Miles said, and the gang circled up.

"Rock! Paper! Scissors! Go!"

Five rocks, one paper. "Annie, vote."

"House ASAP please! I can run through a graveyard, but not a lightning bolt socanwepleasejustgetinsidesoon."

The others moved forward towards the cemetery gate. Mal looked on, defeated. "Have you all lost your minds?! It's a house surrounded by graves. Does this ring NO alarms with anyone but me? No?" He grumbled and pulled his back onto his shoulder, muttering: "I'd better get to wear my scooby doo mask in here."

Miles and the others stopped at the front door, relaxed that the small dry zone of the porch was keeping them dry...er. Miles cleared his throat and knocked.

...

... ...

... ... ...

... ...

...

"Why'd he clear this thro--"

"OCD," Annie whispered, "he's got tons of it, but he hates people talking about it." Jasmine slowly nodded.

Miles continued knocking. Jasmine turned around as Murtle swooped in with a piece of broken glass in her hand, pointing to the side of the house with the other. Jasmine took the glass and studied it. "Nice and bloody. Dried from age, I'd say probably ten years since someone broke into this place." Jasmine turned back to Miles. "Woody Woodpecker and his friends are welcome to stay here and continue barking up whatever tree your nuts want to be in, but Annie and I will be inside." She waved goodbye as they made their exit.

The boys watched incredulously.

"Annie actually left me," squeaked Miles.

"Jasmine certainly is alive here," noted Art.

"What'd she say about my nutts?" Asked Matt.

They all looked at one another, and then at Mal, wearing a dog suit. "What, too soon?"

They all nodded. Matt took out a pokeball. "Shedinja, follow those ghosts."

Shedinja appeared in a puff of black smoke, its exoskeleton crackling as it formed. A soft hiss came from the hole in its back. Slowly, it moved forward into the rain.

The others followed, and Mal stumbled after, trying to get out of his costume without falling over.

“Quick question, not that I agree with this stupendously stupid idea of going into an abandoned castle during a lightning-

“Just ask the question.”

“Why are we knocking? I mean look at this place, the only person who might be in there is a rotting corpse. We would be better off knocking down the door.”

“I like that plan,” Matt said, a tiny trace of giddiness in his voice. He rolled Metang out onto the porch, and with a word the old, crusted door was on the ground, a clear path for the five of them to enter.

Matt marched in first, lighter held high as he scanned the rubble in the main hall, making sure there weren’t any nasty wild ‘mons around. “All clear. Lassie, get out that weasel, we need a light.”

“Fine, but when you guys get murdered or possesed don’t blame me.” Mal let Marty into the abandoned room, the flames on his back instinctively becoming brighter to adapt to the darkness. The pokemon looked around the room, slightly confused, but quickly lost interest and laid down to rest, his flames still illuminating the area.

“This place is filthy,” Eric commented as he entered, his arm covering his nose. “And it smells like death.”

“Probably because of death,” Matt added, kicking some rubble aside. “A house like this in the middle of nowhere? The geezer probably kicked it and no one ever noticed.”

“Does everything need to be so dark with you?” Miles asked as he let out Juice. “Hey buddy, mind taking a look around? We need to find a door, and it’s a bit too dark for us to make it out.” The Patrat nodded enthusiastically, taking off into the darker corners of the house, his feet pattering against the, probably rotted, wood floor.

Above them Ohm floated around from light to light, trying his best to get them to flicker on, but it kept going in circles, trying each one over and over again.

“I could just have Gaahl punch another hole down there,” Matt said, still kicking rubble around. “It would speed things up real quick.”

“If you did that this entire house might come down,” Mal said, tapping knocking lightly on one of the walls. “Look at these walls and beams, they’re rotted to the core. It is a miracle this place is still standing, let alone with our combined weight.”

“What do we do then?” Eric asked, a scarf now tied around the entirety of his lower face.

“I say we wait for Juice to find the girls,” Mile answered. “Until then, we clear the rubble. Art, think you could get that door back in place? Could get chilly.”

Art pulled a screwdriver out of his pack. “On it, captain.”
“Eric, lend Art a hand. Matt, Mal, you two clear out the rubble in here, we don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“What are you going to do?” Mal asked.

“Supervise.” Miles answered with a grin.

“At least you didn’t ask us to split up,” Mal muttered as he started piling rubble into the corner, Chivalry twitching at his side. “You okay man?”

The ghost twitched once more, but shook his head as if to say “I’m fine, just uneasy.” and Mal went back to work, unsure how to feel about this whole ordeal.

She was a bit miffed that even Miles couldn't hear her while at the front door, but the storm was severely loud, so it was difficult to hear anyway. Everyone had been shouting at each other to get their messages across.

But the glass Murtle had and Jasmine's confidence told Annie that this seemed like a promising entrance rather than knocking at a door. Also judging from what Jasmine had told her earlier when the boys were failing to work the truck at all, they wouldn't figure out how to get into a locked house either. Additionally, Jasmine was the most confident... most comfortable, even, around this place.

It took all of her brain power and reasoning, but Annie was betting on Jasmine for this one.

She was completely drenched by the time they had found the window, which wasn't long at all since it was just around the corner. It had been raining just that much.

Annie had to put larvitar in his ball before crawling onto the window sill after Jasmine. She didn't want larvitar to stumble onto a piece of broken glass. Annie even nicked herself a few times before she was able to jump onto the floor inside.

Now that she was properly drenched and bloody, she took a deep breath and let in the smell of--

"Peeek...ahhhhh...CHOO!" Wiping the tears from her eyes with a sopping wet sleeve and wrinkling her nose, she looked up at Jasmine's quizzical look. Annie giggled and scratched her head nervously. "Bless me!"

"Did you just turn your sneeze into a pokemon?"

"Makes a sneeze more worth it, wouldn't you say?" she beamed.

A thunder crash put the light mood away with one swift CRASH!, making Annie jump backward toward Jasmine as she observed the outside rain. Jasmine, on the other hand, paid no mind, admiring the filthy, dark, dank basement they had crawled into.

From the corner of her eye, Annie saw something skitter across the floor. She squeaked and turned toward Jasmine only to find her walking away. Annie hurried after her, looking around nervously. "Isn't there any... any light to turn on? I can barely see a thing."

"The lightning is enough," Jasmine hummed, running her fingers across a dusty side table.

Dust crept up her nose, and Annie stopped in her tracks. She huffed. Puffed. Huffed. Aaaand--

"DREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAV!"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Annie shrieked and twirled in her spot, her hands flopping helplessly as she wailed. When she could hear Ariel laughing through her panic, her face fell and lip trembled. "Ariel, don't do that!"

The misdreavus only laughed and phased out.

Annie could imagine the amusement in Jasmine's face, which made Annie all the more hurt, but she wiped her wet face with her wet sleeve and sloshed after Jasmine in her wet sneakers. Which were brand new before their Pokefest trip to London.

Of course, sloshing after Jasmine only meant walking straight into a large cobweb hanging from the doorframe. Squealing, Annie flailed and flailed until finally Jasmine herself pulled off the cobweb and glared at Annie. "Would you calm down?"

"I'm sorry," Annie sniffed. "I don't know where I am and I'm scared and I can't see and there's something crawling around here and I think someone's following us and I just want--"

"Let larvitar out, then," Jasmine muttered, walking away.

"He's afraid of the dark, too." Sighing, Annie rubbed down the goosebumps on her arm (or was failing to) as she stumbled after Jasmine.

Annie took a sudden breath, trying to hold her whimpering back, but Jasmine recognized her tension and, rubbing the bridge of her nose, asked, "What now?"

"Seriously, I think I hear someone whispering."

"I don't hear anyone except you."

Annie bit her lip and looked around her, hands twisting over one another and water dripping down her face. The silence was heavy aside from the pouring rain and rumbling thunder outside. She kept seeing things crawling around and shadows moving about, but she tried her hardest to stay calm and behind Jasmine. Stay calm and behind Jasmine. Stay calm. Behind Jas--

"MiiiiiisdddrrEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAVUUUuuuuuusssss!"

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!" Annie shrieked, jumping a foot in the air.

Ariel cackled, flying circles around an amused Jasmine with glee before disappearing once again.

Annie whimpered.

It was nice to be able to let her ghosts off leash for once, letting them prank people— specifically Annie— to their heart's content. Hopefully either Murtle or Ariel would find those boys.

The ceiling creaked with movement and from the storm. A loud clap of thunder illuminated the area, revealing many more hallways and alcoves in the basement than previously thought. Annie had gripped Jasmine's shoulders in an attempt to hide.

"What is this place?"

Jasmine shrugged. "Dunno. Old plantation, I guess. They had to store stuff."

Annie's grip tightened. "It's a cemetery out there! What did they store, corpses?!"

Jasmine looked back at her, prying her hands off. "I've seen stranger."

The look of sheer horror on the girl's face was utterly priceless.

Jasmine held onto Annie's hands until they stopped shaking, which was only after another clap of thunder and shadows changing as a result. This kept her from latching on again and causing even worse bruises than she already had.

"This place is a ghost town," she said.

Jasmine smiled and looked around. "Yep."

Annie, however, just shivered.

Murtle flew in, promptly followed by two beams of light and the sound of claws on stone. Miles' ever-faithful Patrat.

Once he'd spotted his obvious target, Juice stood up on his hind feet. "Patpat!"

Annie let go on her own and skipped up to the patrat, picking him up with her usual enthusiasm. "Juice! You're here! Did Miles send you?"

Jasmine walked towards the two, her skirt snagging something right near the belt. She looked to see a splintered wooden board tangling the fabric right near her pokeballs. One that was surprisingly difficult to undo.

Once that was undone, she had to jog to catch up to the rest.

Art
With the astounding power of carpentry!

"I think that'll do it," Art muttered, wiping his brow. "Care to do the honours?"
"You want me to touch zat filthy thousand-year door? Please." Eric shuddered. "Eet eez bad enough zat we are stranded in zis dusty, dank pit of despair - Look at zis! My scarf already 'as patches on eet!"
"And you'll ditch it next time we come across a town with a Calvin Klang outlet where you can hand over the receipt and kick up a fuss to get it replaced," Art suggested, rolling his eyes. "Like you did when your scarf got a little wet on the S.S. Middle of Nowhere and shrunk, or when a large chunk of your scarf was eaten by a Dustox at Sanctuary. Oh! Or when Bong Strad spilled a Cold One™ on your scarf at the bar."
Eric huffed. "You just don't understand ze importance of dressing to be impressing."
"I suppose not. But I think I have some semblance of understanding," Art retorted, testing the restored door himself, which creaked loudly as it turned, "of dressing for the occasion. Where exactly did you get the idea that wearing expensive designer clothes was appropriate for a cross-country tour?"

Eric was silent for a moment; then, opening his mouth to answer, was immediately cut off by a bizarre humming sound. He shut his mouth in confusion; the humming stopped. Eric stared suspiciously at Art, who shrugged, before he opened his mouth again; inexplicably, the humming started again. This time, Art flipped his goggles down over his eyes and pushed a button on the right-hand side, activating a flashlight over the headset. He peered into Eric's gaping maw.
"Well, I don't think that's coming from in there," he said thoughtfully. Eric pushed Art's face out of his own.
"Of course eet ees not! What are you implying by such a suggestion?" he fumed. Art shrugged.

Before either of them could give it any more thought, the humming grew louder. Eric clamped his mouth shut, but the sound grew and grew until it abruptly stopped again. It took the two a full ten seconds after that to notice a little orange ball chewing on Eric's scarf. Eric recoiled in horror and dragged his scarf back as Art smirked.
"Was that you, Citrus?" he asked. The ghost nodded and gave a wide fangorious grin.
"Keep zat zing under control, please, merci!" Eric snapped, shooting a glare at Citrus as he inspected the damage to his precious accessory.
"Citrus is under control," Art shot back, genuinely annoyed this time. "Its behaviour has improved significantly even since we were at Ein Sekt. Hasn't it?" he asked the Pokémon itself, scratching its semi-tangible head as it made gleeful whirring noises and spun. "I think it deserves a little recreational time."
"Well, kindly recreate elsewhere!" Eric pouted, but Art wasn't listening.
"Plus, just look at this place! Can't you imagine how many other spirits might inhabit it? Citrus might even meet some nice ones - you know, that might be a good influence on him." he muttered.

"You couldn't possibly be referring to Jasmine's angels, could you?" Miles asked sarcastically, having returned to continue "supervising". "Don't let her hear you!"
"I can't imagine her taking offense to that."
"You kidding? It's probably the greatest compliment you could offer her. Anyway," Miles continued, "how's that door goin'?"
"Oh, it's goin'."
"... I'm not sure how to respond to that, so I'm going to assume that means we're all set. Mal and Matt are looking for the most suitable room for us to camp out in, just in case it comes to that." Eric gave an audible shudder at this.

"Any sign of Annie or Jasmine?" Art asked.
"Not since they left us at the front door."
"Hmm. Is it wise to let ourselves get too separated? The place is pitch-black and the storm is far too noisy to hear one another if we're in different rooms."
"I wouldn't worry about it. Annie's tougher than she looks, and I bet Jasmine's having the time of her life. And if anything happens, we'll hear from Murtle or Ariel. Or Shedinja."
"Yeah, I suppose you're right."

"Did you see that?"

"Hm?"

"That picture!"

"What are you on about?"

"It blinked at us!"

Jasmine rubbed the bridge of her nose yet again, turning away from the collection of dusty books stacked on a small table.

Annie gulped, looking away from the creepy fat lady portrait and snuck down the hall further after Jasmine. By now, she had a fairly good grip on her nerves. Now she was just shaking and whimpering. At least the shrieking came down to a minimum! Even Ariel flying right out of her chest only resulted in a sharp intake of breath -- and a small one at that.

That wasn't to say Annie was happy here. She wondered how long a storm could last. Thoughts about tornadoes scared her about as much as every other scary thought she's had so far.

"Pat!"

Annie's heart started a moment as Miles' patrat tugged at her shoelaces. She hadn't realized they'd stopped again. Jasmine was so interested in this place, it was slowing them down trying to reach the boys. Juice gave up trying to get Jasmine's attention as it only ever resulted in either Ariel or Murtle popping up to bother him.

"Jasmine, we really should find the boys," Annie said quietly. She felt tired from all the panicking and worrying she'd been doing.

Jasmine ran a finger down the photo frame of what looked like a Victorian woman staring right back with fierce eyes. Rubbing her fingertips together to shake off the dust, Jasmine continued to the next interesting object that caught her attention. "You can go ahead. I'll catch up."

Annie shook her head, even though Jasmine wasn't looking. "We should stick together--"

"I'm not your babysitter, Annie."

She felt herself stand straighter, a bit taken aback at the remark. Juice nudged her sneaker with his paw, twittering at her irritably. "Pat pat! Patrat!"

Annie took a deep breath and turned around back into the hallway. She had grown completely oblivious to the storm outside which still seemed to physically shake the house. It was practically background noise by now. Didn't stop a thunder crash from giving her a heart attack every once in a while, but the flash of light from the lightning grew to be a relief rather than a shock (no pun intended--well, maybe a little one).

"Come on."

Jasmine had walked into the hallway again, this time with a more purposeful step, and led the way down the hallway. She didn't even wait for Juice, but Murtle had come back, seeing as he was flying with Jasmine now. Annie looked at Juice's crazyjelly look and managed a smile before walking down the hallway.

Annie supposed Jasmine was tired of venturing with her since she was passing all sorts of opportunities to explore some more. The closer they got, however, the more sure Annie was of hearing real voices -- like real voices.

"Aha! A wild! I chooose... Red."

"Go fish--"

"Eric, we're not playing Go Fish." A few groans accompanied this.

Annie smiled widely and quickened her pace. Patrat had already ran ahead and disappeared around the corner.

"HA! Draw two cards, Malcatraz!" Miles shouted victoriously.

"Damnit, c'mon! Why does red keep letting me down...?"

"Lavaaa!"

Annie popped around what she hoped to be the final corner and found herself peering into--

"The kitchen. Of course," Jasmine sighed, walking past Annie.

"Hey, did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"The sound of UNO?!?!?" Matt exclaimed, his hand suddenly shooting up with one card in his hand and waving it madly about. "Eat it, Mildew!"

"That was awful," Miles laughed.

"No, it sounded like...Jasmine! Annie!" Art said, lighting up. Annie found the boys all sitting in a circle, playing (obviously) Uno by Marty's burning flame. Everyone looked up to see the two girls arrive. "Great to see you guys! I'm losing horribly..." His voice trailed off as he showed off his hand of what appeared to be about twenty cards.

"Oh, no."

"What?" Art said, turning back around.

All the boys stared dumbfounded as Marty scooted his final card toward the pile. He squeed up at Mal, clearly proud of himself. The flames on his back even grew with his enthusiasm. "Quil! Lava quilava!"

"I just got beat by a quilava..." Matt muttered.

Jasmine
A Doll's Mansion

Lightning continued flashing and everybody but Mal was relaxing. He was on the hunt for salt, having already made a cross out of broken off chunks of wood.

When asked why, he simply said, "Need to salt and Marty the bones."

Jasmine raised an eyebrow. "Then you'll need to dig around that basement."

Annie's eyes, once again, got wide. "There weren't actual bones down there, were there?"

Jasmine shrugged. "Who knows."

The group continued playing, and she went off to explore a few more rooms of the house. She wished Genie were here; he could provide a little light in these old houses. But she'd released that Lampant in Germany years ago.

She wondered if he still remembered her.

Ariel and Murtle had gone off to explore upper reaches of the house, if only to make sure there were no leaks in the roof. Jasmine highly doubted it, considering how dry this place was, but silent leaks were still possible. Considering she'd met Murtle thanks to a near total cave in of an abandoned mosque, it was something to check.

The rooms were pretty typical, when it came to abandoned places. It was like something out of Scooby Doo, with the crooked picture frames and sheet-covered furniture. The house was beautifully pristine, like the family who'd lived here before had vanished without a trace.

It gave her the shivers in the best way possible.

Lightning flashed again, but this time, Jasmine felt something shift.

Rotom buzzed and whirled from the other room as electricity ran down ancient wiring, but for Jasmine his sounds were slowed down and mixed in with laughter.

Cackling.

Ghost type cackling.

A mix of electricity and ghost realm energy jumped from the walls to her. She felt the voice enter her head. The laugher continued. Electricity coursed through her body. Her hands reached her ears in a vain attempt to stop the cackling. Knives drawn over her skin. Her heart slowing down.

She dropped to her knees.

Miles
Here, and there, and a little there, too

"Jasmine?"
"Jazz? Eric, she's not answering me, what do I do?"
Annie knelt over Jasmine's body, a cold rag placed on her forehead and Larvitar's hands in Jasmine's. "Jasmine, please wake up..." She was in tears, and Eric softly muttered beside her.

"Perhaps it is best that we allow her to rest, no?"

Perhaps it is best
We allow her to rest

"She could have just fainted from the scare! Who knows, after all...we're not doctors."

She fainted from the scare.
We're not doctors.

"Jasmine, wake up, sleepy head..."
__________"Jasmine...wake up, sleepy head..."

Annie came to attention. So did Eric and Larvitar and Flaaffy, who was illuminating their corner of the room.

"It's good that you're awake!"
__________"It's good...that you're awake."

______________

Miles turned his head, turning Patrat and his Flash-light around the dark, dank hall. The whole thing smelled like grandmas and roaches--something Miles never imagined in a perfume together. Something banged against the wall and Miles jumped. "Matt! How many times do I have to tell you not to kick the freaking walls with your giant feet?"

"Wasn't me," came a puff of cigarette smoke.

Miles turned, "Then who the hell waAAAA!!"

"DUUUuuuuUUuUUuuSC!"

Miles jumped back, hitting Mal. Honeedge slid through his chest with a silver light and slashed away a stray Dusclops. They began to roar, and Miles fell to his knees.

Miles covered his ears as the ghostly roar filled the hallway. They were surrounded on all sides. Miles backed into Mal, Art, and Matt and childishly reached out for a hand to hold. He found Matt's, clinging to him like a baby.

"Pokemon Fight!"

"RIGHT!"

"Megaman!"
"Marty!"
"Ohm!"
"Gaahl!"

"Comlavatontang!"

The Dusclops narrowed their eyes, giggling in a freaky low baritone. They shook their heads and pointed at their Pokemon, capturing them in black clouds.

"M-Megaman!"

"Marty, break out of there or I swear I'll turn this house around!"

"Ohm...don't...malfunction."

"Gaahl! Kick that cloud's ass! Confusion!"

"TANG!"
"DUUUUSC!"

The psychic energy burst out of Gaahl's body, covering the hall in a pink glow. The Dusclops began to wave as the purple grew darker and closer, mesmerizing Miles and the others. Miles felt a prick in his chest, one heartbeat too few, before hitting the ground.

"Wait, it'z my turn!"

"Lar?"

"Nooo, Eric, Claude played a Skip card! You're skipped!"

"D: Claude, how could you?!"

"Flaaaaaaf!"

Larvitar drew his card and looked at his hand. Annie, just as she had the whole game, checked on Jasmine next to them just in case she had woken up without saying anything. Every time, however, Jasmine would just lay there breathing steadily eyes closed. They had relocated out of the kitchen into the nearby living room (to stay away from the elctrical appliances juuust in case) and also found a blanket to put over her to help warm up. Annie even let her ponyta out for a bit, but she was too terrified of storms to stay out for long.

"Larvitaaar!"

"Hm? Oh, um..." Annie inspected her hand of three cards then placed a blue Draw 2. "Sorry, Claude!"

"Flaaaffy. :c "

There was a loud thunk upstairs, causing the four of them to look up at the ceiling. "I vonder how zey're search iz going."

"I'm sure they're alright," Annie said mostly to herself. "Do you think--"

"Flaaffy flaaf!" Claude proclaimed, putting down her wild card. She pointed at Annie's red bag. "Flaaf!"

"Laaar," larvitar pouted, staring at his hand.

"Vell, zis vorks for me!" Eric put down his reverse card. "Une!"

"No, it's unO!" Annie giggled. "And why would you play reverse when Claude's the one that put down the wild--ohhh!"

"Flaaf!" she shouted, holding up her one card and laughing.



They all froze, staring at each other and acknowledging to one another that yes, they did all hear the same childish voice. "Vat vas zat?" Eric asked anyway.

"Sounded like a little girl," Annie whispered.



Annie followed the sound of that voice and looked immediately into the eyes of a deadpanned Jasmine. Her eyes seemed empty of life, but she still sat there, staring at Annie intently.

"Vat's wrong vit her?" Eric asked. Jasmine immediately looked in his direction like he was the newest, most intriguing specimen in the room.



"It's not even her voice," Annie noted. Jasmine instantly looked at her with the same creepy look.



"Okay, no, you can stop now," Annie said, scooting back a bit.



"Laaar--"



Larvitar jumped to his feet when Jasmine's gaze narrowed in on him, and he hid behind Annie.

"Eric, what do we do?" Annie hissed at him, her eyes not moving from Jasmine as she repeated her words. She started to stand up, but Jasmine clearly didn't seem interested in copying their body movements. Only their words.

Eric also stood up slowly with her. "Vell, ze's not hurting us--"



Jasmine's voice was now copying at a sooner moment than before. Annie didn't even hear Eric say the last part of his sentence because she was focused on what Jasmine was saying, and she had finished it for her like she didn't want Annie to miss out on what he had said.

"We can't run away, though," Annie said, "and we..."



"...can't fight her. Gah, she's confusing me so much," she whined, holding her head as Jasmine finished repeating her words.

"Vat--"



"Okay, no. Stop. Jasmine, stop!" Annie shouted at her, but she only repeated it right back at Annie with those empty yet hungry eyes. Annie looked desperately to Eric. "She's repeating things sooner and sooner! It's creeping me out!"



Annie looked back at Jasmine as she finished her sentence, then looked immediately down at her terrified larvitar. "Larrrrvitar lar!" he cried. She picked him up and held him close.

"Claude--"




Annie was only picking up the conversation by listening to Jasmine now, and it was terrifying her at the same time. Claude's small electrical shock seemed to give Jasmine a small jolt and then proceeded to stare at Claude, the last person she mimicked.

"MILES!"



Annie's eyes were shut tight, squeezing her larvitar in a tight embrace. She knew she shouldn't and couldn't run from Jasmine, but she didn't know what to do, and she had to get the others somehow. And Miles always had an idea.



"Hear what?" Annie said, eyes still shut tight.



He was right, now that he had pointed it out. Annie could hear her speaking at the exact same time he was speaking. Annie jumped directly by Eric's side, like that was going to make this situation any better for her. "Eric, what's wrong with Jasmine? How is she doing that? I know she's a little creepy at times, but I don't think she can be that creepy!"



"It must be possessed. That's the only--"

Eric stopped talking, and the two of them stared at Jasmine in silence, Jasmine staring at Eric. Then she looked at Annie:



"Did it just?"



"It did."



"It's starting before us now." Annie gulped.



"It reads minds," Eric breathed.

Matteo
alla lavagna

"Il fottutissimo sangue di cristo in croce," Matt cursed.

He was in a classroom. It was all too familiar to him. The same creaky whiteboard, the same desks, side by side, with seats far too small for comfort, the same barred windows, which barely let sunlight through. He immediately sought out his seat, second to the left, fourth row. Memories and images were flashing through his head.
He felt dizzy, and lurched sideways, grabbing a desk to steady himself.

This wasn't possible. This wasn't possible. His eyes scanned the room. There were the others. Their faces revealed they were seeing something equally horrible. Different colors of white-green also revealed they weren't seeing the same thing. Was Annie crying? Miles looked as if he was about to vomit. Matt reached for a cigarette, but couldn't find any.

"Madonna..."

He looked at what had been his classroom again, more closely. Everything seemed exactly as he had left it a year and a half ago.. then again, maybe not everything. The shadows weren't quite right. He strode forward and examined the graffiti scrawled onto the walls. What the hell? It was moving, and certainly wasn't italian. What had the Dusclops done to them? He couldn't remember what happened after Gaahl used confusion. The Pokemon. They weren't here. Where exactly were they? It resembled the Hades he'd studied so many years ago in philosophy class. Matt really wished he had a cigarette on him.

"Guys," said Art, slowly, "I don't think we're in Poland anymore."

Mal glared at him.

"Jasmine," Miles croaked. "Jasmine is gone."

"Gone gone, gone"

Matt swore again. "It came from outside. Come on. I don't... we need to keep moving."
He opened the door.

Matt couldn't even find the breath to curse again. This was most definitely not Poland. Or anywhere in the world, for that matter. Art shrieked.

The door had opened onto what was, for want of a better word, purgatory. Or Nevada. It was black. Everything was black. There seemed to be no way to tell where the ground ended and the sky began. It was solid obsidian, punctuated only by mauve mist, which throbbed ominously. In the distance, he thought he could see flickering ghost fire, green or blue. Matt cleared his throat.

"Come find me me, me, me"

Art shrieked again. Matt cleared his throat again, and really really wished he had a cigarette on him.

"Come on," he said, trying to sound confident. "I almost would say this is better than what we were seeing before, huh? Andiamo, let's go find Jasmine. The longer we take the more sass we're going to hear from her... if we do ever hear from her again."

“Where are we?” Mal groaned, shaking as he got to his feet, his legs feeling like they had been slammed with a sledge hammer. “Guys? Any idea?”

At the other end of the room the rest of the group ignored him, a tight circle, whispering just too soft for him to hear. “Seriously guys, I’m getting freaked out.” Mal started to walk forward, reaching his hand out towards Art’s shoulder, but when he got there they were gone. He looked up, then around the rest of the room, he was still in the corner, the rest of them further away, the whispering becoming quicker, more intense.

“What’s wrong? Is something wrong?” Mal said, worried it was him. Why were they ignoring him? What were they saying? His mind was so focused on them that he failed to notice the spiritual treadmill he was on, every step he took getting him no closer to them.

“Please guys, what’s going on.” he nearly begged. “Why are you-”

The group broke their circle, not even turning to look at Mal for a moment, slowly walking away from him. Mal tried to run after them, but nothing happened. His legs were moving, he was running, but the distance only grew further the faster he went. Desperately he yelled at them, begging them to just say something, anything, but all he heard were the faint, audible, noises.

“Is it me?” Mal screamed at the top of his lungs. “Please, just tell me!” Mal fell to his knees, just watching them fade out of view. “Just...be honest. I’ll change, I swear, I’ll be anything. Just don’t leave. Don’t leave….” Mal couldn’t bear to look up.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Mal said when he looked up, the group completely gone. “Not again.” Nothing happened though, nothing changed, they were already gone, all that was left were the whispers he couldn’t understand. All he could do was think the worst.

“Freak. Loser. Weirdo. Desperate. Annoying. Immature. Useless. Hurtful.” Mal whispered to himself. “That’s me.”

When he opened his eyes the room had changed, the tiles under him turning into dirt around him, walls forming into a chain link dome. The Pit. Mal looked around, his Pokemon were spread around the field, backs to him.

“Don’t stop!” Mal turned around, he saw himself. “Whatever it takes, win!”

Mal turned back around, no longer were his Pokemon standing proudly, instead they were laying on the ground, bloody and bruised, screaming in pain. “What are you doing? Get up! You have to win! If I don’t-”

Mal just stared at their bodies, unable to move. Desperately he wanted to run to them, check on them, but he was stuck, not even able to reach his hand out to the air in front of him. As he stared at them the whispered returned, in the corner of his eye he saw the group again, walking right past him.

“Quil…”

“Lu…”

“Woott…”

Mal forced his eyes open, looking at his team, staring at them. Behind him Other-Mal was stilling screaming orders, devolving more and more into a panic. “If I don’t win then why do I matter? Do this for me!” Mal pushed his face back into the dirt, trying to block out the sounds around him, trying to put the images out of his head.

“This isn’t real,” he told himself. “It can’t be real.”

“Just because it isn’t real, doesn’t make it false,” an unrecognisable voice said, stripped of all emotion.

“Such a waste,” one of them said, Mal couldn’t recognize the voice, but he could tell they were stood around his team. “If their trainer wasn’t so…”

“Stupid.”

“Useless.”

“Yeah,” said, collapsing face first into the blood stained dirt.

“That’s me.” Mal said, utterly defeated. Not even trying to move, giving completely into the nightmare. “Just go. You deserve better, I’m not even worth your time.”

“We know.” they said in unison, walking out the door, leaving Mal laying their as the room faded to black around him.

"One down." A voice cackled from nowhere. "It was almost too easy."

...

“Where are we?” Mal groaned, shaking as he got to his feet, his legs feeling like they had been slammed with a sledge hammer. “Guys? Any idea?”

At the other end of the room the rest of the group ignored him, a tight circle, whispering just too soft for him to hear. “Seriously guys, I’m getting freaked out.” Mal started to walk forward, reaching his hand out towards Art’s shoulder, but when he got there they were gone. He looked up, then around the rest of the room, he was still in the corner, the rest of them further away, the whispering becoming quicker, more intense.

"W-what did you say?" Art spluttered.
"... if we do ever hear from her again," Matt's voice echoed. That's not what it sounded like before.

"Guys, what's going -" Art turned to face Miles and was cut off by his own shock. Or was it Miles? His face was contorting as Art stared in horror.

n07 7@1Lz

Art barely even heard Siiri as he stared at what wasn't Miles at all. "R-ralph!?" he choked.
"GIMME SOME MUFFINS ARTIE" Ralph shrieked in a high-pitched voice, shoving Art to the ground. Art glanced around at the others for support, only to find he was in fact surrounded by Ralph's school cronies.
"I don't have -"
"MUFFINS" Ralph's orange eyes bugged out of his head, completely out of alignment with one another. "I'LL WRECK YA"
"Ralph, leave me alone!"
"I'LL GET YOU KEVIN" Ralph stopped shrieking and began simply muttering under his breath, his body convulsing slightly. Art took the opportunity to get up and attempted to push past Ralph to make his escape. His hands phased right through Ralph and, flickering slightly, the bully and his crew vanished.

2 plus two - tEN%%$ IN BASE FOur

"I need to get out of here," Art muttered.

obvious exits5s are n0rth, south &nd deNNIS

A passing Magnemite was grabbed by an enormous red hand, which bounced away chanting "jibblie-jibblie-jibblie".
"Siirifortheloveofgodwhatisgoingon?"

at the end OF t^he ExperimenT you will~ BE BAKed

A Paras lay on the floor of a familiar-looking fighting arena, not moving.
"Don't... don't hurt -"

and then there will be CAAAAAAAAAAAKE

Siiri's last word echoed and grew in volume; Art clutched his head as whatever light had been present earlier was extinguished. He clicked the button on his flashlight-goggles repeatedly - to no effect.

nice joRB BREAKIng it heroo00o

He wasn't sure how long he was lying there on his back, listening to various pieces of nonsensical chatter emanate from Siiri, before another light appeared in front of him. A Pachirisu scampered over to him and stood next to his face; Art cringed in anticipation, waiting for another chilling vision...

It licked him on the forehead. Not only was Art not expecting something anywhere near as pleasant, he wasn't at all prepared for the other effect it would have: like a ripple, the darkness split and Art could see a dark-purple landscape blanketed by a dark-red sky. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, the inky blackness returning after a split second. Pachirisu smiled at Art and made a familiar chittering sound.

"Ci... Citrus?" Art said shakily. "Is that you? F-for real?" Citrus nodded ecstatically and bounced. For a moment Art was just as happy to see a friendly face, until he remembered the formerly friendly faces of his PokéFest posse.
"No one else is coming, Citrus," he said quietly.

for science... you monster

Siiri's voice seemed much clearer.
"I don't know what happened," Art continued. "But either... either something terrible has happened to them a-and I wasn't able to do anything..."

a horrible person. We weren't even testing for that

"... or they've gone, and left me b-behind, b-b-because -"

right here in your personnel file: Unlikable. Liked by no one. A bitter, unlikable loner

Citrus was frowning angrily at the PokéGear.

your entire life has been a mathematical error

It turned to Art and unleashed an ear-shattering Screech in his face.

"... not real!"

n07 r34l

Two voices made themselves heard in the wake of Citrus's attack. Art shook his head vigorously. "That voice... the one that wasn't Siiri... there's no way. It almost sounded like Jas- but there's no way."
He glanced around to make sure - sure enough, there was no one around but the boy and his ghost. Citrus, with its newly-acquired squirrel arms, shrugged, then scampered up his left leg and torso to perch itself on his head. Instantly, the same effect from earlier occurred. Art could see the landscape, and this time he could make out a few figures dotted along the ground in the distance. There was also a box-like object even further out from them that, for some reason, stood out against the darkness.
"That... looks like Mal. And Miles over there, and Matt's a ways behind him. I can't tell if they're moving," Art said nervously and began running towards them.

"Is it because of you, Citrus?" Art called as he ran. "That I can see this? Was everything else, all those visions... just that: visions?"
Citrus chirped affirmatively.
"Why? Is it because... is it because you're a ghost? Or were a ghost? Were - were you a Pachirisu when you... before you died? Is this some kind of shadow realm?"
"... spirit world..."

5p1r17 w0rld

It was that voice again. Was it Jasmine? It was impossible to tell for sure. At least either it or Citrus had shut the malfunctioning Siiri up.
"Well... Miles doesn't have any Ghost-types. I'll have to go to him first, and hope that maybe Chiv and Shedinja come through for Mal and Matt."
Citrus chittered.
"I can't see anyone else. At the very least, with the ghosts she's got, there's no way Jasmine can be in any trouble."

Miles
DAMN THE DARK

Miles was in a falling dream, completely aware. Lucid, if you would. He’d heard about Lucid dreaming, but doing this during a falling dream...it seemed to break the rules. His eyes opened and he scanned the tunnel around him. Far away was a light, and all around him were clouds of garnet, aubergine, onyx. Colors as hard as stone. He lifted his hand, peered at it through scrutinous eyes, and saw with expectation as it decomposed into a fan of bones and ripped muscle. “I I I am a decomposing mass mass mass, years of experimentation groped into the compendium of scholarly sutures and carnal practices. There is nothing human about me beyond my hunger unger nger.” Miles did not feel like Miles. Or perhaps he was gazing at Miles through a very long and scrutinizing microscope, watching the microcosm of his flesh boil under the amassed heat of darkness. Decomposition, he thought, is an artform.

That, however, is when his face (first) hit linoleum, his flailing body crumpling after.

“Science is a liar,” muttered the decomposed mass. “When I hit the ground I’m supposed to die, not awaken to find my own consciousness outside of my lucid mind.” Miles ambled up onto his feet, unscathed. “Where am I--” A hospital room.

“Well this is new (new, new).”

In the center of the room, as most hospitals arranged, there sat a bed. Curiously, it wasn’t a hospital bed, but a small rectangular box-shaped bed that he had seen once on a tour of a psych ward with Annie. He’d joked that they looked like coffins. Given circumstances, he did not like his joke. On the bed was a sheet covering a body. Natural in a nightmare. A dead body. Miles assumed he was supposed to inspect it. “I’m not gonna play your games, you know!” He yelled at the ceiling above him. “It takes more than an elaborate dreamscape to fool me! I’m a MacFarlane! I once came out of a coma in seven days! Count ‘em! You surely have my memory somewhere on hand, so put it to use!” He grumbled, “Bastards.”

Inconspicuously, Miles neared the bed, taking care to check his surroundings for anyone watching. He was clear for now, so he took hold of the sheet and pulled it back, revealing--

“Annie…”

Cold and made of flesh-colored stone, it was unmistakably Annie. Needles and tubes ran in and out of her body, her hair had been cut off. All of her beautiful blonde hair...she hardly looked like a person. Miles dropped to his knees and dug for her hand, feeling the lifelessness in the cold. “Ans? I don’t care how logical I can be about a dream, I want you to answer me.”

“You have a weak spot.”

Miles shut his eyes, clutching Annie’s hand tighter. “Please, Ans, talk t’me...tell me you’re okay.”

“It’s quite easy to exploit when your emotions are tied up in this collective nerve cell of a girl.”

Miles jerked his head around, and there stood Annie, hair still chopped off, tubes still hanging from her arms, skin as pale as midnight stars.

“L-leave her out of this,” he demanded. “She’s done nothing to you!”

“Oh, but what fun would there be if I couldn’t have my way with your astute little mind, so sure of yourself, so certain of your focus?!”

Miles rose to his feet, fists clenched. The sheet withdrew over Annie’s face by itself, and he faced the Annie in the doorway. “So tell me what you’re doing! Why are you showing me this nightmare?!”

The girl in the doorway grinned. “Poor boy, this is no nightmare.” She pointed to the calendar. “This is a vision.”

A clap of thunder broke his concentration. The room began to crumble, a miniature earthquake made just for the hospital. Miles shut his eyes and grabbed a hold of the wall as he began to fall, but stopped so suddenly as if suspended in space.

Miles opened his eyes. Art and Matt were standing around him in a world that was made of reds and purples and blacks; clouds moving in all directions. Nearby, Mal was suspended mid-air, a white cloud enveloping his body. “He...he’s still trapped.”

“So were you, until just now,” interjected Art. A Pachirisu sat on his shoulder. Matt had Shedinja beside him. Art commented before he could ask. “Since Shedinja was born of an exoskeleton, she wasn’t really a pokemon that died. More of a residue of evolution. Quite fascinating stuff, really. As for Pachirisu, here, it’s Citrus!”

“Ghosts, alive in this world...in their true bodies.” Miles scratched his head. “That means we’re in the--”

“Shadow Realm.” Mal fell to the floor, a Klink tied to his back.

“Lovely,” mused Miles, “so how do we get out of here?”

Matt pointed down through the gases and clouds towards a small light with a square. “That’s either a doorway or a terrible trap. I say we go there.” He sounded giddy again.

"MILES!"

"MILES!" Annie shrieked.

"No one's--"

"No one'z coming," Eric said through clenched teeth. He had forced himself in front of her as if to shield her from Jasmine's gaze. "We need to run."

"We can't--"

"We can't just leave her!" Annie's larvitar hugged her neck tightly, digging his face further and further into her shirt. She was almost suffocating except she was too afraid to really notice it was him.

Jasmine was still crouched where she was before, never having moved. She continued to predict their words, continued to stare at whoever's dialogue it belonged to. Claude was shaking now, but she still stood in front of Eric as the obedient and loyal pokemon she was.

CLANG!

"OWWWW!"

Annie doubled over, one hand flinging to the shiny new bruise on her head. A metal pot fell to the floor with a much louder CLANG! CLANG!

"Stop--

"Ztop hitting yourzelf!"

"I'm not--"

"I'm not hitting myself!" she yelled at him, still tending to her bump. "It came out of nowhere--DUCK!"

In an instant, Eric looked, grabbed Annie, and proceeded to duck down to their knees as a spatula, ladle, and wooden spoon flew over their heads.

"Okay we can leave--"

"--now," Annie squeaked. Her eyes jumped to Jasmine again, who was now starting even earlier than they were.

"Awww. Time to leave already?"

Annie whined, shivers crawling straight up her spine into her new bruise on her head. She grabbed Eric's arm. Eric put a comforting hand on her white knuckles.

"You heard zat too--"

"--zen?"

Annie only nodded.

They stood there for a silent moment, but there really wasn't much to say as they watched more kitchen supplies hover into the air. Eric's other arm reached over to Annie and led her backward into a wall if not a door.

"Can't we play one more game?"

Annie shook her head, her eyes widened as silverware floated in their direction. Eric leaned into her and whispered,

"Grab zat cookie zeet just in case."

Annie's shaking arm reached over and yanked the cookie sheet from the stove, but as soon as she did, it turned on to the hottest mark. Eric took it from her as she cowered, hiding her own face into Eric's shoulder just as larvitar did with hers. Eric held the cookie sheet up as a shield, watching the silverware float closer.

"Oooh, you want to play peek-a-boo? I love this game."

Two forks suddenly shot straight at them, but Eric threw up the cookie sheet and blocked them. They fell to the floor, leaving tiny dents in the pan.

The bodiless voice cackled. "You're good at this game! This is going to be fun..."

Annie peeked over his shoulder to see a some butcher's knives float toward them as well.

"Ve can't hold zem off forever. Ve must run."

"But what about Jasmine--"

"Ze's not ze one about to be chopped up into caviar!"