Thank you for reading. Hopefully you enjoy. If you REALLY like it, I have a P-a-t-r-e-o-n, under the same name, where you can read 5 chapters ahead.
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The dim light of the strangely dark morning dwindled behind us as we entered the Pokémon Tower, a long stone corridor leading in. Torches blazed on the walls, but did little to combat the cold that set in. Lavender was a chilly place, yet the second I stepped over the threshold to the mausoleum, the temperature plummeted.
What the light did, however, was illuminate the ancient, faded murals carved into the entrance. Slowing down a little, I fished out my flashlight and turned it on, the artificial light revealing etchings of Pokémon and humans alike, each accompanied by the exact crudely drawn figure of a woman clad in a long dress, face shrouded in a veil. A boy with a Nidorino in his arms was gently led by the shoulder as they entered the towering gates. A Machamp with a human cradled in its four arms, following in the footsteps of the swaying kimono. A group of warriors carrying a casket aloft, surrounded by a whole score of veiled women as they ascended the steps.
The sounds of Gary's footsteps growing distant forced me to hurry up, yet there was still time to notice that the drawings continued down the long hallway, every depiction showing the arrivals bent and broken, dragging still bodies along, but always guided by the woman.
So taken in by the art that might've been as old as Indigo itself – if not older – I almost walked into Gary as he stopped at the end of the entrance. Catching myself, I peeked around and couldn't blame him.
Smoke hung like mist – and maybe partly was – filling the room with a haze that extended endlessly in all directions, small balls of blue flame hovering amidst the clouds like tiny suns. The far walls were barely visible, and so was the ceiling, an immense expanse of drifting vapour obscuring everything with a blanket of swirling white, like we'd stepped through a portal to another dimension. Dark spots seemed to move behind the fog, indistinct shapes wavering and dancing in the light. There was a chill in the unnaturally still air, colder than even outside, and the scent of incense, earthy with a hint of spice, lay heavily.
Remembering Fuji's words about even the bottom floor being dangerous, I tensed and looked closer. It took a moment, but as I made out the origins of the shadows, a chill went down my spine that had nothing to do with the temperature or the otherworldly vibe.
Headstones.
A countless number of them. Every time I moved my head, new ones peeked through the smog, an army of reminders for the centuries of fallen lying beneath our feet.
I swallowed thickly, nervous despite having expected exactly that, Eevee mewling in discomfort as Herc and Siren moved out in front of us, Growly and Squirty mirroring them on Gary's side.
Seconds passed as we waited there on edge, the hairs on the back of my neck rising. Neither Rick nor Selene was within sight, but there weren't any Ghost-Types either. In fact, there didn't seem to be anything within sight.
Maybe they took care of the Pokémon and went ahead-
"Your companions have already gone to the second floor."
The speaker didn't flinch as a twisted sword, two jets of water, and a burst of flames passed by right over her head, but the cold intensified for a moment, and my breath hitched. A veil covering the young woman's face fluttered in the slipstream of the attacks, the white, thin fabric hiding her head and hair. A black kimono, adorned with lavender and purple flowers, covered her short, slender form, her bare feet curled under her as she gently ran a cloth over a gravestone. The overly long sleeves dragged along the rough stone floor with her every move, and yet remained pristine, not an ounce of millennia's worth of dust and grime clinging to them.
"Fuck me, where did you come from!?" I couldn't blame Gary for the sentiment, my own heart beating in my chest. Only Hercules remained calm, the Electabuzz barely glancing at the girl he presumably noticed before she spoke.
"I was here long before you. In some ways, I have always been here." It was hard to tell whether her attention was on us or her task – unable to see her eyes – but she paused her cleaning to lift a long piece of paper, the surface covered in ink symbols I didn't recognise, and hung it over the stone. "My name is Miko. I am a Caretaker here." Her voice sounded young, not much older than ours, but it was hard to tell with her deliberately low tone.
I curled an eyebrow at the very Japanese name. They seemed to crop up occasionally – like Bill's last name being Masaki – but the Clans didn't use them, so I didn't understand the custom.
"Yeah, whatever. Have you seen that big-ass Haunter or a pair of cosplaying losers? I presume that's who you meant went upstairs." Miko nodded, not reacting to Gary's inflammatory words.
"To reach the next floor, follow the lights." She indicated to the floating Will-o'-Wisps, and I swore they bobbed gently up and down at her attention.
"Should you be in here by yourself? Heard the Ghost-Types come all the way down here." I asked, staring at the suspicious flames. My sixth sense was screaming that it was not just fire.
"The Old One has only been here for a short amount of time." Lighting the dual incense sticks in her hands, she waved them around for a moment, mumbling words to herself that I couldn't make out. Yet, for a second, I could swear that the mists solidified around her and the phosphorescent blue flames flared up, the unheard words being whispered from all around us as she placed the smoking incense in a small pot. "Eventually, even down here will be dangerous to outsiders, but it has not reached that point yet. The spirits down here are more used to humans, so it takes more to make them actively hostile. Beyond that, we Caretakers have little to worry about."
Gary and I exchanged looks at both her words and the creepy phenomenon she pulled off, before Gary picked the conversation back up.
"Well, if it's that dangerous, you wanna get off your ass and help?" She shook her head, still gently wiping the headstone.
"It is not our place to interfere. The Tower is home to the dead. You would ask me to care for the physical remains and chase away the spiritual ones?"
"Yes. Yeah, that sounds great." I replied, Gary nodding along with me and scowling down at the… priestess? Shrine maiden?
Finally turning from her task, Miko turned her hidden face towards us. I couldn't see her features, but there was a smile in her voice. "I am sure they feel the same way about you." Then she returned to her task, acting like we weren't there. Gary threw his arms out and huffed loudly, storming off between the gravestones in the direction Miko had indicated.
"Thanks," I said to the strange girl. She turned her head one last time, and my mind played a trick on me, a flash of red orbs – crimson, baleful, and familiar – shining through her veil.
"It is our duty to help those who cross the boundary. Pokémon or not, coming or going."
I blinked at her words while she slid along the ground to the next name-engraved stone. I went to ask her what she meant, but a loud shout of 'Peri!' alerted me to Gary being little more than a blurry shadow amongst the smoke, and I had to hurry off.
I'd get her on the way back.
Finding the staircase that led to the second floor was both easier and more complicated than I thought it would be. On one hand, Miko's advice to follow the lights was a little vague, and we ended up walking in a circle twice. It was somewhat awkward when we passed the girl, but she didn't say anything and merely kept tending the graves.
Everything looked the same. The walls were rough and uneven, hundreds of grave stones crammed together in clusters, whole lineages laid to rest side by side. The center was slightly easier to move around in, but the sameness became disorienting swiftly in the haziness.
On the other hand, once we'd thought to have Growly – who, unlike Sol, had actually had some tracking training – stop us from crossing our own trail, it didn't take that long to find the ancient, chipped steps carved into the wall that led upwards. The staircase was narrow and open to one side, forcing us to walk in a single file as the ocean of white wafted around and hid the ground from sight, but we made it eventually.
Stepping out on the second floor of the Pokémon Tower, I really wasn't sure what I expected, but if it was more mist, then I sure got it. Even though the second floor should be smaller than the first – given the somewhat conical nature of the Tower – it didn't feel like it. The sides and roof were shadowed suggestions of enclosure, nearly gone in the haze, and the graves seemed taller and even more cramped. I didn't understand the customs of what floor you were buried on, but I could've sworn there were somehow more on the second floor than the first.
Gazing into the veiled room, I cocked my head. There was something there. The lightest of noises, on the very edge of my senses. It was so low and part of the background that it took me a moment to register. It was difficult to separate into distinct sounds as they all blended together, yet I managed. Voices chanting in a choir, the faintest of laughs, ethereal whisperings.
"You hear that?" There was a bead of sweat on my neck, and I took a step closer to Herc. There was a pressure in the air that had my heart picking up, and for a second, I swore I could see a plume of vapor from my breathing.
"Hear what?" Gary peered around, hands ready to release the rest of his team. Growly whined nervously, eyes darting around and nose twitching constantly, but even she didn't seem to pick up on the muted chanting.
"Never mind, I guess." I took a deep breath and put on my big girl pants. I wasn't going to get scared off just because it was creepy. "Same thing, I suppose? Follow the lights."
"Yeah." There was an extra edge to his voice as we started creeping forwards, picking a row of hovering flames to begin with. Whatever feeling there was on the first floor was much stronger on the second, as if there was a physical pressure to the obscuring fog that increased the gravity, and it had us all paranoid.
Especially when, as we approached the chosen fire at an oddly slow pace that hardly brought us closer, I noticed something.
"It's moving."
The words had barely left my lips before a high-pitched giggle echoed in the mists. The bluebell flame flickered and morphed, splitting into two eyes with yellow pupils. The fog swirled and coalesced into a physical shape, gray fluttering cloth rising to a horn in the middle of the forehead as the leftover material wavered in an imaginary breeze.
The Shuppet laughed at us, closing its eyes and sticking out an overly large, pink tongue to blow a raspberry.
Which meant it never saw Siren's Water Gun coming before it struck it in the center of mass, sending it careening into the mists with a noise not unlike a deflating balloon.
"Fucking asshole ghosts," Gary grumbled.
"At least it wasn't full-blown aggressive yet," I retorted, frowning at our surroundings. Something was… off. The Pokémon Tower had me on edge since the very beginning, yet something changed. The light movement of the fake wind, the near inaudible whispers from all around, it had all just… stopped. "I think we need to hurry, though. They might not appreciate-"
That was as far as I got, as my words proved to be prophetic. A rush of wind and an unearthly screech were my only warning as another Shuppet, bigger than the first, came rushing out from behind a nearby tombstone. The scream gave enough warning that our teams met it with a flurry of elemental energy, but the Ghost-Type dove, slipping into the shadows cast by the Will-O'-Wisps.
The darkness undulated at the presence of the Shuppet and – much quicker than the Pokémon had been moving on its own – the shadow stretched like an eel and rushed across the ground. The Shadow Sneak snuck between the legs of everyone in its wake, emerging right in front of Siren with a ball of crackling, lavenderish-purple forming in front of its wide open maw. The Feebas' eyes grew wide, but she was too slow to get out of the way before the Shadow Ball would be launched.
But I wasn't.
THWACK!
The Ghost-Type howled as my ruined blade swung like a golf club and sent it spiraling off into the distance. Taking the opening, I wasted no time in grabbing Gary by the shoulder and dragging him along.
"What in the-how? You can't hit ghosts with a sword!"
"You said it yourself, it's barely a sword at this point. Turns out, hit enough Ghost-Types with something, it gets pretty good at it." I'd first seen it during our trip to Lavender. The Pokémon had been training while I'd been trying to see if I could salvage the sword, and an errant Shadow Ball had gotten a little too close. On instinct, I'd lashed out and bashed it away from me with the weapon. Soaking something in Distortion enough left an impression. "Now, focus! No way that's the only one."
The ethereal muttering picked back up, only faster. Angrier. Fog and shadowed graves churned aggressively as we passed, hidden eyes following us as we power walked forward. I pulled Gary sideways as he made to follow another dancing flame, saving him from being caught up in the six others that floated up to join the first now that their trap had been ruined, the hypnotic pattern they drew upping the volume of the ominous chanting.
In return, the Oak's swift reaction had a lurking gastly caught in Growly's Bite-enhanced jaws before it could jump me from a corner I'd missed. The void-esque Denial energy of the Dark-type move dug holes into the non-corporeal body of the Ghost/Poison-Type, the Distortion bound to the toxins dissolving on contact as the ghost froze, a pained grimace stuck on the disproportionately large features. The Gastly was thrown aside in our hurry before it got seriously injured, but I imagined it wouldn't hold up long under that type of attack.
As the situation got hairy enough that I released Sol myself – despite the relatively little space he had to move between the headstones – the presence of two Dark-Type moves had the Ghost-Types of the second floor staying back for the most part. Small Shadow Balls came from beyond view or behind cover, but they were pretty easily neutralized with Water Bullets or Embers detonating them prematurely.
A face of bone, shaped into an almost comical representation of a skull, emerged from under our feet as we walked over a patch of extra dark floor we hadn't noticed. The black cloak of the Duskull – with a pair of crossed bones on the back – lacked limbs, much like a Shuppet, but there was a more solid presence to the Pokémon that some of its fellow pure Ghost-Types lacked. The sole crimson eye swung between the eye sockets like a pendulum as it lunged towards me, its edges growing hazy and indistinct as purple energy leaked from it. Hercules instinctively swung a fist towards it, but the ghost passed right through the unenhanced arm of the Electabuzz and past the ring of guards that surrounded us squishy humans. It was closer to Gary, who tripped as he scrambled to back away, but completely ignored the brown-haired boy, eye fixated on me for some reason.
Why did ghosts have such a hard-on for me?
My sword was down, and it would take too long to raise. I had no choice but to turn as best as I could and brace for impact, knowing it was going to hurt.
The Duskull intensified the sustained Shadow Sneak covering it, almost upon me-
-only to get swallowed up by the red light of a PokéBall opening, the light expanding in Duskull's path. The macabre mask of the Ghost-Type twisted into a surprised expression as two massive jaws formed from the energy, and the Requiem Pokémon exploded into a cloud of Distortion as the red leaked from the blue skin, Betty's Bite obliterating the ghost as she released herself from her bonds.
I wasn't sure if Ghost-Types could actually die or how that worked, but if they could, then that Duskull was fucking gone.
Behemoth the Bagon screeched her challenge to the entire tower, ready to take on every single inhabitant. A massive Dragon Breath caused steam to explode and a howl to echo from the background as the fog contracted in an unnatural way. Betty stomped her foot eagerly and lowered her head, ready to charge headfirst into danger-
-and squawked indignantly as her PokéBall once again swallowed her up and sucked her into the containment device.
Sorry, baby, but we really did not have the time – or the strength, if I was being brutally honest with myself in the privacy of my own head – to fight through every floor. She'd get her chance when we either found the Black Fog or got trapped.
Betty's reveal seemed to have drained the last courage of the surrounding ghosts, but I didn't let it fool me, even as we finally found the staircase and made our way up. It hadn't escaped my attention that everything we'd seen so far had been stage 1 evolutions.
I highly doubted that was going to continue. No, things were going to get a lot harder if Fuji's comment about the huge Haunter we were after not liking to fight fair was true. Having to battle through an entire gauntlet before even seeing the boss sounded like an excellent way to stack the deck.
As did the Tower itself, which was definitely unfair.
On the second floor, it felt like gravity had been doubled. On the third, we stumbled briefly as it flipped, and a single step felt like it would send us soaring. I knew that wasn't actually true, but the feeling of familiarity only grew the further up we got.
"The hell is this shit?" Gary mumbled, shifting uncomfortably and rolling his shoulders.
"Distortion. So much of it that it's starting to overtake reality." I ignored the weird look he gave me, taking the lead. "We need to hurry. We don't want to stay for long." I highly doubted it would grind away and change our very nature the way Giratina's world had done – not without lingering in the tower for years – but why take the risk.
My skin tingled as the smoke brushed it, curling around and almost embracing me. A lavender hue of Distortion dyed the previously white haze, the otherworldly nature visible as we progressed further up. The sides were fully gone at that point, the graves more elaborate than ever – statues of Flying-Types with wings spread stood protectively over dozens of names, whole stacks of molten wax still lit with more ghostly blue flame. The background hum of whispers was louder than ever, with distinct tones and pitches emerging.
-oooom!
And in the distance, a muffled explosion. The fog wavered for a moment as the shockwave blasted through, before settling again nearly immediately.
But it was still enough.
"That's them!" Gary called out, Growly rushing ahead, ears standing straight as she headed towards the sound. I followed more slowly, eyes darting around. The third floor was significantly more affected by the Distortion than the earlier floors had been, and yet, there wasn't a single Ghost-Type in sight. Oh, they were definitely there. I felt them in every corner, every shadowed nook and cranny of the towering carvings of stern-faced warriors and fierce Pokémon, heard their voices in the air, and tasted them on my tongue.
But I couldn't see them. There were no attacks, no sneaky Shadow Balls or sudden Shadow Sneaks.
Nothing.
I didn't trust it for a single second.
"Peri, over here! Hey, morons, what the shit are you doing!? This ain't the place for a picnic!" Gary waved me over from up ahead, hurrying over to a group of silhouettes that huddled on the floor. I sped up, only to slow back down and eventually stop, every instinct screaming at me. Yeah, the Ground- and Rock-Types didn't look like they belonged in the Tower, so it was probably 'Mountain Man' Rick and 'Hex Maniac' Selene.
But why were they curled up on the ground, and where were their assailants?
A chunky Onix snaked around the duo and hid most of them from view, the gigantic serpent rumbling like an earthslide as it saw us coming. Standing guard around it, a brown and yellow, hedgehog-like Pokémon slid its enormous front claws together before the Sandslash smoothed down the spiky growths on its back. On the other side, bouncing back and forth on segmented legs that contracted and extended like springs, was a brown, humanoid Pokémon that seemed to lack a head, the torso extending up past the shoulders, and holding a pair of eyes with black sclera and white pupils. The Hitmonlee moved to get in our way, but before it could, a bushy head of more hair than beard popped up over the Onix's body.
Gary was almost there at that point, showing a spectacular lack of care for the large Pokémon staring him down, and I wasn't that far behind.
Which meant I saw the moment Rick laid eyes on us, and the blood drained from his already pale and sweaty face. The untrimmed beard parted, and the first nearly understandable words I'd heard came out of his mouth.
"NA, DN'T! I'S A TRP!"
It wasn't hard to get the sentiment, though.
Especially when, around us, the oddly calm and abandoned mist began swirling in circles, first slowly, then faster and faster. Black and purple bled into the smoke, completely obstructing our vision as we were caught in a tornado of Distortion. Cackles and giggles surrounded us, the large eyes of Gastly's hurling around gleefully, the clawed hands of Haunters briefly forming as they grabbed more of the fog and dragged it with them into the twister-style Ominous Wind. The chanting grew louder than ever, the red jewels of Misdreavus standing out against the dark backdrop as they joined the choir of large, indistinct figures with big hats that lurked on the other side.
We were trapped.
"GET BEHIND THE ONIX!" I screamed over the screams of both the ghosts and the howling wind, grabbing Siren and Eevee and jumping clean over the Rock-Type snake, quickly joined by Sol and Hercules. Reaching back over, I grabbed Gary by his shirt as Growly did her best to push him over and dragged him the last part of the way, throwing him down beside Rick and Selene. The hiker was crouched over the Hex Maniac with a canteen of water and a cloth, the woman lying on the floor in a fetal position. Now that I was close, I could hear nonsensical mumblings falling from her lips, her eyes darting around to things I couldn't see.
"What happened!?"
"I dn kw! Hr Pokm wnt czy an tn se js collp!"
Oh, for fucks sake, why was I stuck with these people?
"Gary, Pidgeotto!" I called out, throwing out Betty's PokéBall to the other side of Onix. The huge avian joined the Bagon as they both materialized with vicious cries, Betty's stream of dragonfire burning a smoldering trail into the congregation of Ghost-Types, and Pidgeotto briefly dispersing a side of the whirlwind with a blast of wind from his massive wings as he took to the air.
"Ey, wake up!" I kicked the downed Selene in the ribs, trying to rouse her to no avail. Cursing, I gave it up quickly and chose to work with what we had.
"Sol, Flame Wheel, Betty, Dragon Breath!" The Growlithe snorted at my words and leapt back over Rick's Onix without hesitation. Mid-air, he curled into a ball as his pelt seemed to come alive, orange flames appearing from his body and coating him in a more standard coloration for a moment, before the fire fully erupted and surrounded him in an inferno. A glowing trail was left on the floor as he bounced a couple of times before rolling towards the tornado-
-and straight through it as the wall of formless Ghost-Types and Distortion energy parted before him with a cacophony of laughter, allowing the canine to pass right through.
Said laughter was quickly silenced, though, as a Sheer Force-empowered Dragon Breath ripped them apart again. Curses and insults in languages that time had forgotten – and had never existed in the first place – spewed at Betty along with a couple of Shadow Balls exploding against her scale-covered hide, but the Titan tanked the blows with little difficulty, throwing herself mouth-first into the fray. She quickly reemerged, spitting and hacking from the toxins, but she could withstand it for a while.
Siren and Squirty had teamed up under Gary's command, the 10 days we'd spent training paying off. Squirty unleashed a wide spray of water in a cone, drenching the ghosts for a moment, before an equally wide blast of Ice-Type energy froze them whole. It wasn't a proper Icy Wind, as Siren still couldn't pull that off even with Vulpix's help, but her experience with temperature was enough.
"Herc, Thunder Gloves! Eevee, back him up!"
The Electabuzz whirred in agreement and pounded his fists together, sparks springing between them as he joined the rest on the other side of the Onix barrier. Lightning jumped up and down his forearms as he held them up and focused, dual Thunder Punches igniting. His tail swung side-to-side with cracks! of thunder as he stepped forward and started swinging, the cloud spasming and sparking as his hands carved through it in a flurry. Plumes of smoke struck out at him, trying to force him back towards the rest of us, but a Shockwave had them retreating in pain. The Thunder Punches faded for a moment, the charge spent on the ranged move, but he swiftly got them back up.
It was far from perfect. He still couldn't hold it while using any other move, not just Electric-Type, so Quick Attack was out of the question for now.
However, evolution had brought more than just larger electric reserves.
Hercules almost blurred with speed in the same way Growly did, hands a flurry of sparks as a barrage was sent and landed in a heartbeat before he footworked himself out of the way of the returning attack.
My heart swelled for my boy. I hadn't known him for long, yet he had come so far. I knew better than to say it out loud, but he could make a decent argument for being my strongest.
Speaking of coming a long way. As good as Hercules was, there was still a long way to go before we were anything close to perfect. A strategic retreat had the Electabuzz following forward into a trap that saw the miasma surround him on all sides, pouring down on him like the Red Sea collapsing on the Egyptians. Lifting his arms to block, Herc found he didn't need to as a swirling ball of Distortion tore through the incoming waves, making them flinch and scream out in pain as the very core of their beings was threatened. Pulling back to the greater whole, it wasn't fast enough to prevent Eevee from focusing twice more, another two Shadow Balls punching holes in the mass.
The Ghost-Type moves were stronger than usual, I noted. The Normal-Type could reliably pull off the move, but some of the surrounding Distortion got pulled in when she formed the attack.
It wasn't that different from how the Ghost-Types had managed the tornado we were stuck in. Using the energy around us to power moves they couldn't pull off alone.
Good to know for when we got out of there.
My fingers touched Vulpix's ball before I removed them. It was tempting, but not only was I not super comfortable directing the Ice/Fairy-Type in battle, but she also wasn't that strong quite yet. Plus, I thought as I eyed the blackish-purple miasma that made up much of the tornado, Poison would rip through her in an instant.
No, shit would really need to be desperate for that.
Though it was getting there.
There were too many of them. For every one we took out – and we'd done enough damage for 50 ghosts at that point – three more took their place, seeming to spawn from the Distortion that hung so heavily over the Tower. At the rate things were going, we'd run out of steam long before they did, even without the poison slowly grinding us down.
So we had to switch strategies. While we were there to fight the Black Fog, retreating to the second, or even first floor, for a moment to regroup and plan might not have been a bad idea.
It was clear that we'd underestimated the Pokémon Tower. How the hell could so many Ghost-Types just be allowed to hang around?
Or was it because of the Black Fog?
"On my mark," I had to still speak pretty loudly to be heard over the chaos, but I tried not to let the ghosts listen in, if they cared enough to, "we're all going to attack the same spot, where Betty is. When there's a hole, we run through and get to the stairs, alright?" I could see Gary's face pinch up and his teeth grinding together at the idea of leaving before we did what we came to do. "Once we get downstairs, we can regroup and replan, fuck, call in some reinforcements, maybe. Gary, this ain't doable like this!" For a moment, I was afraid I wasn't going to get through to him – a feeling I understood – but thankfully, he swallowed his emotions and nodded swiftly.
"Fine!"
"Good!" I sighed as Rick lifted Selene over his shoulders, getting ready to move. "On me. One."
I scanned the swirling darkness as it was ripped into by streams of elemental power and blurring fists of energy.
"Two."
Hitmonlee's hands devoured the light like a pair of black holes as they rent the ghosts apart to great success, Herc teaming up with the Fighting-Type to push deeper than either could alone, though they made sure to never get stuck on the other side. A ring of fire surrounded us as Sol gained enough speed that he couldn't simply be dodged. The flames lingered for a moment as I got his attention and made him stop in front of me, the aftereffects hiding us from view for a brief moment.
"NOW!
"FLAMETHROWER!""ICE BEAM!""SHOCKWAVE!""RCK BRRG! IRN TL!"
I had to shield my eyes as the world lit up with white, a torrent of energy rippling through the air as Onix roared and swung its glowing tail through the trap. The Ominus Wind dispersed for a moment under the combined force, leaving an opening for us to rush through.
"GO, GO, GO!"
We sprinted through the disoriented and injured ghosts as they tried to pull themselves back together enough to stop us. Emerging on the other side, I wanted to cheer at our success, but we weren't out of the woods yet. We still had to get to the stairs and then hope they didn't follow us down-
-wait, why was it so dark?
We slid to a halt as the path forward suddenly darkened, as if it was night time. The Mist swirled as a howling gale tore through the room, the temperature plummeting. The ghosts' screams behind us quieted as the very air itself froze.
Sweat ran down my face as I slowly looked up and up, gulping.
Uh-oh.
Covering the whole horizon, I wouldn't have known that the mass of void-black was a Haunter if I hadn't been told. Blood-red eyes as large as my whole body wavered in and out of reality, arms the size of trees tipped with hands littered with holes. Needle-like teeth as long as people bared in a grotesque smile as the Black Fog hung over us.
There was an air to Ghost-Types that other Types, except for maybe Dark, lacked. A certain sense of wrongness, of something twisted. There was a reason they had a spotted reputation, and it wasn't just because their exact relation to actual ghosts of the departed was unknown. There was something about the inhabitants of the Distorted Realm that simply made humans uneasy, that raised the hairs on the back of their neck and made them uncomfortable. A surety that the being before you was fundamentally 'other'.
Staring into the Black Fog's eyes as the massive ghost leered down at us, I think it was the first time I had seen genuine, actual malice in a ghost.
Ghost-Types wanted to scare you, to affect. They fed on it, the emotion, needed it like humans required air.
The Black Fog would gladly starve. It wasn't about survival, not really. The Haunter would gladly light the world on fire and laugh at the flames.
It was about hate.
For the Black Fog hated every single one of them for daring to exist. It wanted them gone and the whole world with it.
It had spent decades, if not much longer, scouring the sickly solid realm it had found, and it would not rest until everything resembled its true home.
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I wanted to fit the whole fight with the Black Fog into this chapter, but I had too much fun with the Tower, plus I'm sick, so I'll wrap it up next time. Probably.
Thank you for reading. Hopefully you enjoyed. If you REALLY liked it, I have a P-a-t-r-e-o-n, under the same name, where you can read 5 chapters ahead.