And… another chapter!
I love nurses. ^^
Disclaimer: Pokemon belongs to Nintendo and Shogakukan Comics. This non-profit, non-copyright infringing fanfiction belongs to me under international copyright laws and taking it is plagiarism.
Thank you. *Phantomness bows*
Chapter 3
The fighting trainer was a bit surprised to see Ash in his room… the trainer-turned-nurse quickly blustered something about checking on his fighting pokemon and Bruno nodded his complacency.
He snuck a quick peek at the doors and his feelings were confirmed.
They were a dull, earthy brown, heavily marked, odd… but they ought to lead into Agatha’s room.
Wait! Agatha had light hair… kind of gray, but very pale gray… was Agatha sending him these dreams? It would make sense, after all, since Agatha was a ghost master and could probably do Hypnosis and Dream Eater and things like that…
But still. Why wouldn’t she be more direct?
“So how are they?”
He snapped back to reality. “You’re pushing them too hard. Hitmonchan and Hitmonlee – their ligaments haven’t healed yet. Give them another two weeks to recover or else they’ll heal incorrectly.”
Bruno grunted.
“By the way, is Agatha here?”
“Probably. You want to talk to her or something?”
“I was wondering if she’d accompany Lorelei and me to Pokemon Tower to say a few prayers for Jynx.”
Bruno blanched. “Lorelei’s Jynx is dead?”
“Yes, quite unfortunate…”
“All right. I’ll ask her.” The doors swung open.
Both reeled back in horror, as they saw well, nothing. No, it wasn’t anything that they could speak of. Nothingness would be preferable to this.
Oh gods…
Empty. It was completely empty. The old woman was dead – how long they didn’t know, only bones remained. How could they not have noticed?
The eyes still remained though, staring up at the sky…
It was quick work, they sent the body off to the morgue and didn’t tell anyone. No one needed to know that the Elite Four were falling apart. No one…
That took Ash’s mind off the dreams until he dreamed again.
This time, he knew it wasn’t Agatha.
“Please, talk to me.”
The girl shook her head.
“You can’t talk? Or do you not speak English? Is that why you’ve been writing those notes?”
He could see them, glinting lightly, little puddles of words – a scrap of paper and two words in crimson.
Help me.
But he still didn’t know how to help.
He didn’t wake up tired anymore, at least, just uneasy. And sad… He wished he could help her.
He wished he knew who she was, but he couldn’t think…
Two days later, Karen slipped quietly in – Agatha’s granddaughter, and took her place as the third Elite.
Dark.
It was similar to ghost, and no one protested…
But still…
Now that Karen was here, she had white-blonde hair, so he decided to ask her about the dreams, and she just gave him a strange look and said she had a boyfriend already. Not her then.
Who was haunting him?
And then he finally figured it out, or so he thought, so after work one day, he slipped into the last room.
Lance’s….
It was empty – that wasn’t so out of the ordinary, after all, the Champion was never at the Plateau…
But…
Something wrong prickled in his senses, so he depressed the button set into the wall, hidden amidst the paintings…
A doorway slid open.
Lance’s room.
All the Elite had rooms connected to their battling rooms… they needed to sleep and somewhere to live after all…
But… this was different.
“Oh my Maker…”
Ash stared at the figure lying in bed uncomprehendingly. She looked dead, only she was breathing. Faintly, but breathing…
Dear Lugia, what had happened here?
He lifted the blankets carefully, shuddering as he saw what lay exposed. All that dried blood… and all the other things…
He reached into his pocket for his first aid kit, but suddenly, felt something, and fell into dreams again.
This time, he knew.
“Lance?”
The girl nodded, before she met his eyes. Clear, glittering gold…
“You can’t talk, because… someone slit your throat.”
She frowned.
“Well, that’s what your body looks like… and you’re… malnutrition and dehydrated and I can’t believe you’re still alive but-!”
There was an almost imperceptible shake of her head.
“Who did this to you?”
A frown. A scrap of paper floated into his hand.
He choked. “No.”
She nodded.
He felt like vomiting, except one doesn’t vomit in dreams. Abruptly, he found himself back into the room.
Grabbing his first aid kit, he got to work assessing the damage and was violently sick in the bathroom not minutes later.
No wonder she didn’t want to wake up…
Oh Lugia…
How would they explain this?
End Chapter
Completed 8/10/05
Lance: I get abused in all your fics! *GLARE*
Phantomness: Meep! *Hides*